ined his horse back several paces, and
shouted,--

"Ready with your carbines, men!--we have fallen upon a gang of
bushrangers."

I heard the ominous click of the locks of the guns, and cleared the
blood from my eyes to get a view of our assailants.

"We are no bushrangers," shouted Smith, starting forward and fronting
the officer. "You should know my face, lieutenant," he continued, to the
man in command.

"Ah, Smith, is it you?" the lieutenant said, in a sort of patronizing
way, and riding forward. "Put up your guns, men; we are not among
bushrangers, I think." And in obedience to his command, the men slung
the carbines at their backs, and rode forward.

"What is the matter with that fellow?" the officer of police asked,
pointing to me.

"He was just injured by a knife, sir, in the hands of this woman, who
has lost her reason," answered Smith, in the most obsequious manner.

"Lost her reason, hey," said the lieutenant, carelessly. "Then she has
no business here; or rather I should say that no persons of sense would
be here if they could help it."

The mounted troop laughed, as in duty bound, and even Smith suffered his
features to relax in token of appreciation of the officer's
facetiousness.

"Where are you two fellows from?" inquired the lieutenant, turning
towards Fred and myself abruptly.

By this time I had bound up my head with a handkerchief, and wiped some
of the blood from my face. The wound had nearly ceased bleeding, thanks
to some lint which I always carried about me.

"Are you talking to me?" asked Fred, in a careless tone.

"To whom else?--speak!" cried the officer, impatiently.

"Perhaps you would not know where the place is located, even if I told
you its name," replied Fred, with provoking indifference.

"I am the best judge of that," answered the lieutenant, turning red in
the face.

"O, you are?" Fred laughed.

Smith, who had acted in a nervous manner ever since the conversation
commenced, approached and whispered in Fred's ear,--

"Speak civilly to him, or he may take you to Melbourne."

This, instead of having the desired effect on Fred, only rendered him
the more impudent; for he didn't relish being called "fellow," even if
he had on a flannel shirt.

"Will you tell me where you belong?" demanded the officer, angrily.

"O, certainly."

"Well, where?"

"Have you ever heard of such a place as Boston?" Fred asked.

"Yes--it is in England."

"Not the Boston that I mean