the time of the trial. When sentence was pronounced Davis said to the judge, “I would rather be hanged, your honour, than imprisoned for life.” “No matter, what you would rather,” replied the judge, “the sentence of the court is that you be imprisoned for life.” This was all bravado on the part of Davis, who that very morning said to one of the warders he did not care how long he was imprisoned if he but escaped with his life.
29th January, 1863.—After being out the greater part of the night, Captain Battye (inspector of police) succeeded in capturing two bushrangers connected with the Bathurst mail robbery. It was currently reported that Gardiner was in the town, which turned out to be the case. I had a messenger who was for some time employed as ostler on the road between Burrangong and Forbes, at a place frequently visited by Gardiner and his satellites, and who therefore knew him very well by sight. On this evening he came to me and said, “Gardiner and one of his mates are at Deeley’s Hotel. I thought it was he, so went in to see.” He also told me two horses were tied up at the door. I wrote a note which I sent up to Captain Battye, marked “immediate,” but which, in his absence, was opened by the officer next in command, who, on reading it, ordered out four of the foot police; but, instead of going quietly to the hotel, marched into town, making a great fuss, and halting in front of the bank, came to inquire from me as to the whereabouts of Gardiner. Having given them full particulars in the note sent to the camp, I was simply disgusted at their want of tact and told them so. They then went down the street some 200 yards or so away from Deeley’s (by which time the “bush” telegraph was at work), and turning sharply round walked bravely up to the hotel, to find, no doubt much to their satisfaction, that the bird had flown. I may as well explain what I mean by saying the “bush telegraph” was at work. In the billiard-rooms of the bars of the principal hotels of Burrangong might be seen one or two young men dressed in boots and breeches, velvet-edged waistcoats, &c., neat and spruce-looking, but without any visible means of support. For a long time these fellows were a puzzle to me. They were occasionally seen on horseback, and well mounted, too. On inquiry, I found these young gentlemen were working in concert with the bushrangers, and kept them posted up as to the movements of the police, &c. In the case above referred to no doubt they knew of the police being in town, walked quietly up to the hotel, and gave the alarm.
2nd February, 1863,—Dickenson, storekeeper, of Spring Creek, was stuck up by Gardiner, Gilbert, Hall, O’Meally, and Pat Daly.
About sundown Dickenson saw five horsemen pull up at Dalton’s publichouse, which was immediately opposite his store, one of them in police uniform. It was just closing time, but a
