sick of saying it; but no, you must have the police and a public fuss, and our own men jeering at us and cheering Stingaree! Very well, my fine friend; I know a stubborn man when I meet one, and I give in. But if anybody goes for the police it shall be myself; only I don't come back till they've been and gone!"
The listeners heard a match struck, and smelt tobacco; but see they could not, without searching for a cranny wider than its fellows; and not a muscle had they moved as yet.
"You wouldn't know the way," they heard Young answer. "Which way did you come?"
"I believe through a howling desert you call the horse-paddock."
"Well, when you get out of that you take the right-hand track; not the left—that takes you to the Seven-mile. Follow the track to the right till you strike the stock-route and telegraph posts. Five miles along the stock-route—this time to the left,
