NEITHER of the McKnights nor Parrot came to the boys on the Sunday morning, and Dick and Billy, whose larder had run short, were compelled to make a raid on Wilson's garden--which yielded little in the way of fruit, but carrots and turnips were not despised.

At about eleven o'clock, from an outlook amongst some scrub on the Red hand tip, Dick and his mate could see that something unusual was going on in Waddy.

They saw a crowd gathering near the Drovers' Arms, and could catch the glitter of the accoutrements of a couple of troopers.

A little later a mounted policeman actually came cantering into the paddock and forced them to creep stealthily to their safe retreat at the bottom of the mine.

Here they sat and talked, prey to the most torturing curiosity.