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"Why don't they appoint him Governor, then?"
"Well, my dear old chap, if you had a friend who was in trouble financially, or otherwise, you would do him a good turn, would you not?
Well, English political leaders do the same."
"I see, there is a big salary attached to it. But, now, how about Wyck?"
"If he has returned to Adelaide we must find him. He may have seen the cable addressed to me, or he might have seen our names in the pa.s.senger list wired from Albany," said Hal, musingly.
"Then we had better continue our search, for he cannot now have much start on us," answered Reg, and they prepared to renew their enquiries at the hotels. Walking down Rundle Street, they called at the "Globe,"
and other places, without result, till dinner time caused them to adjourn.
"Let's have another nip of Mount Gambier whiskey," said Hal, "and after dinner we'll try Hindley Street."
While walking along King William Street continuing their search, Reg, who had continued closely observant, remarked:
"Is there anything exceptional about our appearance, Hal?"
"Why?"
"I was judging by the number of people who stare at us closely, and then turn round for a second look."
"That's one of the characteristics of Adelaide--curiosity. They do love to know who's who and, if they see a stranger, they like to know all about him," answered Hal, as a well-dressed lady pa.s.sing them stared hard. "Now, come round this way, old chap. We must explore Hindley Street. It's a peculiar street, fas.h.i.+onable at one end, and----"
"Not fas.h.i.+onable at the other," added Reg.
"Exactly; there is a tribe of Mongolians and Asiatics inhabiting the lower quarters, but let's ask here where Mick Tier lives."
"What, Mick Tier, Slavin's friend when he was in England?"
"The same. Here he is," and a stout gentleman, who could turn the scale at eighteen stone, appeared.
They had half-an-hour's chat with their genial host, without being able to procure any additional information, and went on to the "Melbourne Hotel." They entered the saloon, and were smilingly greeted by a good-looking young lady.
"Good evening, Miss Wallace; how are you, this evening?" said Hal, leaning familiarly over the bar.
"Very well, thank you."
"Have you seen Wyck lately?"
"No, do you know him?" answered she, with a slight start.
"Oh, yes, I know him well. He told me to call and give you his best love, Gussy."
"That's very kind of him, and did he tell you my name?"
"Certainly. When did you see him last?"
"I don't remember. Why?" she asked, curiously. "But really I forget your name, though I remember your face."
"Thompson is my name. It is very unkind of you to forget me so soon."
"I don't remember the name."
"I saw Wyck at Port Pirie. He said he thought he was going on to Melbourne."
"But he did not go," said the girl, quickly, and Hal gave Reg a gentle touch with his foot.
"Where did he go to?"
"Come on, let us look round and see all the pretty girls," said a familiar voice behind them, and turning they saw Tickell and an elderly gentleman.
"Hullo, Morris and Winter. I've found you out," shouted Tickell.
Hal made a movement of annoyance, for he had seen the girl start at their names, and now felt sure she was in league with Wyck, and knew of his whereabouts.
"Will you join me, gentlemen?" said Tickell, between his smiles and smirks at the barmaid.
"No, thanks," said Hal, as he sat at a small table, with Reg alongside him.
"Confound that old fool, he's spoilt my game," said he, in a low tone, to Reg.
"How did you know her name, Hal!"
"My dear boy, if a girl leaves a letter on the shelves behind, addressed to Miss Wallace--"
"I see, but where did the Gussy come in?"
"Look at her brooch, and you will find that."
"Well, good-bye, my dear; awfully sorry I must go. Good-bye, gentlemen,"
and Tickell and his friend retired.
"You'll excuse me for a moment, sirs," said the barmaid, leaving her post, with a bow. Quick as lightning, Hal leant across and examined the envelope--
"Melbourne stamp, dated two days ago."
"And that's his writing, Hal," said Reg, excitedly.
They had scarcely time to settle themselves when the lady returned, carrying a sheet of blotting-paper, which she carelessly threw on the shelf under the counter.
"Same again, please, Gussy," said Hal, trying to be pleasant.
"My name is Miss Wallace, sir," said she, indignantly.
"I beg your pardon, madam."
"I don't believe you saw Mr. Wyckliffe at all. I know what you are after, but you won't see him again, for he has left for Western Australia."
"Is that so?" queried Hal, cynically. "Then he did not go to Melbourne, Miss Wallace?"