Australia Revenged Part 34

Wyck reached the station safely, and asking how far the train went, was told "Roma."

"First, Rome," said he to the porter, without thinking.

"Roma, you mean, boss. Besides there ain't no first cla.s.s on a goods train," said the porter, with a grin.

"You know what I mean," replied Wyck, annoyed.

"All right, here you are, boss," he answered, handing him a ticket, and noting his white hands and the c.h.i.n.k of gold in his pocket.

"Hullo, mate! how far are you going?" asked a genuine tramp, as he joined him in the van.

"I beg your pardon," said Wyck, forgetting his character and disgusted with the fellow's familiarity.

"Hoity toity! here's a joke," said the old tramp, much to the porter's amus.e.m.e.nt, as the train moved slowly off, bearing Wyck to the bush.

The boys were not long in following Wyck out of their train, but as they thought he might get in at Toowoomba they kept a close watch on all pa.s.sengers travelling North and South. Reg tipped the conductors of both boudoir cars, in order to look through them, and when both trains started again, they felt satisfied he must be still in Toowoomba, unless he had left previous to their arrival. Off they went to the nearest hotel, and engaged a double-bedded room, in which they locked themselves.

"What's the programme now, Hal?" said Reg.

"If he's here we must nab him. When does the first train start to-morrow?"

"The guide says, 10.30 South, and 1.50 West."

"We'd better get up early and go round the town. You can put on your rig and appear as a stranger looking round, while I'll put on my bush rig and go amongst the swaggies and loafers in the bars. They generally have their eyes open and my idea is that our man will have got hold of one of them for information," said Hal, pulling out his bush togs.

"What shall I do, then?"

"Just knock around and keep your eyes open. He may drive away. Of course he may have got away by now, but it's our only chance."

The next morning by half-past six both had left their room to commence their search. Hal did not need any coaching in the manners or ways of a bushman. He had seen too many of that fraternity during his travels.

With a slouch hat, a grisly beard, a crimson s.h.i.+rt, a clean pair of moles with straps fastened below the knees, and a rough pair of boots, he looked the typical bushman in search of work. His hands were stained and looked sunburnt and dirty. He walked with a slow, long stride, first into one public-house, then another, calling invariably for a quid of tobacco in preference to liquor. He struck into conversation with several of his own kidney, and interviewed boots and barmen, without finding out anything of service to him, but still he kept on patiently until he came to the "Royal," where he found an old man sweeping the bar.

"Good-day, boss," said the sweeper.

"Good-day. Have a drink?"

"Don't mind if I do have a pint," said he, readily.

"I'll have rum," said Hal.

After a little desultory conversation and the drinks had disappeared the sweeper, whom the barman addressed as Bill, returned the compliment, and put down a sovereign in payment.

"Hallo, Bill, where did you make this?" called out the barman, considerably astonished to find Bill with a sovereign in his possession.

"Never you mind. Give us a drink and have one yourself," he answered.

The drinks were served and Bill received his change, but still the barman seemed curious.

"Where did you get it, Bill?" he asked again, coming from behind the bar, which gave Hal an opportunity of getting rid of his rum.

"Never mind," said Bill, huffily. "Can't a fellow have a sovereign without you troubling yourself?"

Hal now became decidedly interested, and ordered another round of drinks, this time including the barman. The barman returned the compliment, and Bill, having four pints of beer inside him, began to talk volubly on his strong point--thoroughbreds. Still the barman seemed to think he ought to have a share of that sovereign, and again plied Bill with questions.

"Tell us, Bill. Did you prig it?"

"Prig it! You go to the devil. Come on, mate, let's have another drink,"

and Bill began to show signs of intoxication.

"Rather, Bill," answered Hal, pretending to be similarly affected. So far, he had succeeded in throwing his liquor down a hole in the floor.

The landlord now appeared on the scene and began to rate Bill for neglecting his work.

"I ain't a-going to chop your wood, I ain't; eh, mate? We ain't a-going to chop wood."

"No, that we ain't," said Hal, with a lurch.

The barman stopped the retort rising to the landlord's lips by whispering, "plenty of stuff," in his ear. Thereupon the latter asked where Mr. Wyckliffe had gone.

"Who?" said Bill. "He's No. 5, ain't he?"

"Yes."

"Well, he give me two bob, and went away early."

"Where did he go to, Bill?" asked the barman.

"Don't know, and don't care. Give us another drink." After which he staggered away, followed by Hal, to the back, in the direction of the stables.

"I'm going to sleep," he said, entering a small house attached to the coach-house, where a lot of bags were strewn about.

Hal staggered after him, and noticed a portmanteau and a rug in the corner. Bill tottered to a rude bunk, on which he fell, and was soon fast asleep and snoring loudly.

Hal hearing him mutter, leant over him and managed to make out the following:

"Get up--six o'clock train West--Go to 'ell--two yellow boys," from which he drew his own deductions. Then he proceeded to examine the portmanteau, which he found unlocked. He could hardly restrain his joy when he found lying underneath the things Wyck's famous ebony stick. It was beautifully mounted and polished and its numerous notches were carefully cut. The temptation was too great to resist and Hal calmly appropriated it, slipping it down the leg of his trousers, then he staggered out of the yard down a lane towards the creek. When he was well out of sight he carefully pulled off his old coat, and took from the pocket a silk coat and pair of overalls. These were quickly donned, the wig and beard disappeared, and he straightened himself out and walked back through the yard into the street, looking like an ordinary tradesman.

Reg was waiting for him when he got back.

"He left by this morning's train for West," said Hal.

"I thought so. I enquired at the station, and they told me a goods train ran twice a week at that hour, and one had gone this morning, but the man who was on duty then had gone home."

"What's the next train, Reg?"

"1.50."

"Well, we'll go by that. But, come here, I have something to show you,"