Twitter will come.

That'll be five.
Five is a fine gang; sides, we don't want fellers what ain't got billies.
Bushrangers ain't no account on foot.

My men must be all mounted.

So I propose we meet on the toll-bar road just when it's gettin' dark, all riding our billy-goats an' armed to the teeth; an' we'll stick up all the Cow Flat people goin' home from Yarraman.' 'My word!' cried Phil ecstatically.

'We owe it to that lot.' 'Couldn't we start now ?' said Peterson, who had been sitting with wide eyes and open mouth, and was consumed with impatience.
'Oh, no,' said Dick; 'we gotter prepare our arms an' ammunition an' things.