d unkempt, but here on
the hill the Commissioner reigned, and law and order ruled supreme.

There was a blaze of light from the Miners' Arms--the tumbledown shanty,
half of bark and half of canvas, where the diggers assembled every
night--and a crowd of men were at the door lustily shouting the chorus
of a sea-song. Here was help in plenty, but she dared not trust them,
and galloped on across the creek, dry now in the middle of summer, and
up the hill again towards the tents of the police camp, which gleamed
white against the dark hillside. A sentry started up and challenged her
as she passed the gold tent, but she paid no heed, and the next moment
she had slipped off her horse and was standing panting and breathless in
the open door of the Commissioner's tent. The light from the colza-oil
lamps fell full on her white face, on her golden hair streaming over her
shoulders, and on her dainty pink gown, somewhat torn and soiled now.
Three young men were seated at the dinner-table, two of them in the
uniform of Gold Commissioners--the braided undress coat of a cavalry
officer--and all three sprang to their feet.

"Oh, Captain Cartwright," she panted, "they have--'stuck up' Warwingie,
and they're going to shoot Tom Hollis."

"What?"

But before she had time to explain, one man--she recognized him as the
Commissioner from the Indigo Valley on the other side of the ranges--had
forced on her a glass of wine, and while Captain Cartwright was shouting
orders to his troopers, he drew from her the whole story.

"We 'll have to be careful, Cartwright," he said, when five minutes
later they were riding over the ranges at the head of ten stalwart
troopers. "It appears Hollis is surety for the lot, but he insisted on
Bessie Warner making her escape at all risks. He is a plucky fellow,
Hollis, but it was the only thing to do. If they 'd been let alone all
night--well, when they're sober I wouldn't trust 'em, and when they 've
drunk they 're fiends incarnate. Close up, men, close up a little to the
right, sergeant, and we 'll dismount before we come to the stockyards."

They rode across the ranges, and it was not long before the house came
into view, ablaze with light, and the troopers crept round it. Then,
when they were all assembled, Captain Cartwright with his revolver in
his hand stepped on to the verandah and pushed open the door, while
Bright, the Commissioner from the Indigo, entered at the other side.

"Bail up, throw up