The MAN from the GULF

Evening Star, Issue 22891, 24 February 1938, Page 18

The MAN from the GULF

—Vi. T'. ’ '

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE. THE RAID ON THE CATTLE. The stage was set for the dramatic climax to the work of Barney Summers. Patterson had entered into the spirit of the chase. He had risked his position as a justice of the peace by the attitude he bad taken up; and his own and his wife’s property were subject to serious loss if the thieves succeeded in out-witting Barney and himself. But he wanted, in the first place, to see the murderer of Old Man Patterson hanged; he had a passionate desire, which increased every day as the time for action drew near, to teach the fat Inspector Moggs a sharp lesson; and he wanted above anything to give Welsby a fright that would jolt him from the borders of permanent ruin back into the path of sanity. Barney, more than the reward that had been offered by the Cattlemen’s Association for the capture of the cattle duffers, and the money he was being paid for his work by Patterson, wanted to see the consummation of his efforts materialised in a spectacular rounding up of the most notorious gang on the Four Rivers within the memory of iiv-

be ready, and branding irons heated, and, as fast as the bullocks could be run through a crush, the brands would be faked, the earmarks changed, and the cattle would be to all intents and purposes the lawful possessions of the selectors on. whose country they would bo grazing, if they were ever seen, again by tne owners or the agents. Shorthorns were the foundation of the herds all up and down the Four Rivers, and clever brand-fakers could do wonders, ' while there were places where grass and water were in plenty, but no stranger could ride there without being seen and forestalled by a gang that would hide the cattle, even if they had to tap him on the head from cover, to give themselves plenty of time. When the next mob of fats went from any of the selections down to Adelaide of Wilcannia, or to other towns where there were butchers in a big way ready to buy, pay, kill quickly, and ask no embarrassing questions, there would be a percentage of Patterson’s cattle in the mob, sufficient to ensure a handsome profit for the thieves.

ing cattlemen. From a third night’s spying in the roof of the mined nut on the Old. Man Plain, he had learned that the thieves were hoping to get their big raid over before the arrival of the famous Sub-

Barney noted with pleasure that a half-caste had been engaged by One Horse Gilligan, who was boss of the drovers, the day previously, for he surmised that this was the “ darkey ” who was to put something in the coffee stampede the mob, after the thieves had taken their toll, and lead the station men and drovers away from the scent. Summers arranged that “ Darkey ” should receive a vigorous tap ou the head with a loaded stockwhip handle at the moment before the remnant of the cattle were to be rushed off the camp. A rope and a strong young mulga sapling would hold him until ho was neec]gd again. One thing worried Patterson. He was a justice of the peace, and, knowing what he did, he had not notified the police. But he had tried in vain to get assistance from the local inspector, and had been snubbed for his pains. He decided to risk it and trust to Barney’s organisation, the courage of the Red Ridges men, and his own influence with the Cattlemen’s Association, should there be an outcry at the method he was adopting in refraining to hand over to Inspector Moggs the information Barney had gleaned. He quite expected trouble from the pompous inspector, but he rather relished taking him down a peg, and he thought Barney and he, between them, were about to do it. One thing Barney rubbed in with his instructions. No man in the camp, when the time to act came, must drink or eat anything whatsoever. They were to pretend to help themselves from the coffee dixie, but not a thing must pass their lips before the gang was in their hands and they were back at their own camp.

inspector Hawhe, from the Criminal Investigation Branch at Townsville. The gang had discovered that Hawke had been out on a visit from the North Coast, to spy out the land, and the gang, from cover, had carefully inspected the famous thieftaker, while he was in Mulga, West, making inquiries. A scout had discovered that the inspector had decided to return to the north and finish a job he had in hand there, before concentrating his energies on the cleaning up or the Night Riders, in a few weeks. He anticipated that the new job would take him some months, at least, and he wished to have nothing interrupt his work. He was coming hack to Mulga, West, when he was ready, carefully disguised, and expected to earn the reward. “ I’m darned sorry for that subinspector,” chuckled Barney, in the office at the homestead, on the day preceding the night on which Patterson’s cattle were to be stolen. “ They say he’s a really smart young fellow, cleaned up everything they have put him on, an’ got to be sub-inspector about 10 years quicker’n anybody else in the force. College man, they tell me, though that ain’t any crime. But 1 was here first, an’ I got a right to clean up the reward, if I can swing it bfefore he gets here. One thing, if everything goes right to-night, Mr Sub-inspector Hawke won’t have to waste none of his valuable time down hero for no result. We’ll save him a lot of trouble, boss though it will land him a nasty bump. It’ll be a hell of a goodwill gift for a deservin’ man.” Behind the locked doors of Patterson’s private office the Man from the Gulf directed, described, and plotted out his scheme on paperj minutely, so there could he no mistake. The thousand head of fat cattle were to ho camped on a small plain, just outside the Red Ridges boundary, when the drovers had taken them over and signed for them. Originally Summers was to have been in charge of the drovers, but he had changed his plans, and now had four members of Number Four mustering camp, with One Horse Gilligan in charge, and the cook, Babbler. These men had been carefully tested in secret to prove their dependability and had been let into the scheme to a limited extent.' They were to repel a raid on the cattle, capture the gang, and share the reward, but they must act strictly to orders and carry out the programme laid down. Departure from it might mean failure. They were well armed, and they were to receive extra pay for the risk they, took. Discussing the affair, One Horse Gilligan said to the others who were locked in the office with Patterson and Summers: “She’s a real picnic. We’re dead lucky to be_ in on it, fellers. _ I wouldn’t miss this for a bush christenin’.” “Yeah, that’s right,” said Greenhide Harry, hitching his belt and, spitting tobacco juice jn the waste-paper basket. “ Betchcr w© get ’em first try,” put in Stiff Fingered Jimmy. One thing, as Summers remarked, with a suppressed chuckle, was in their favour, they knew all about what the thieves were going to do, but the thieves did not know that they knew it. On the fateful night the cattle were duly “ rung up ” on the small plain on the rich river pastures. A couple of miles away there was a treble line of low, rocky hills, part of the range that gave Red Ridges its name. Through a hidden entrance to a shallow gorge in those hills it was the thieves’ inten- i tion to rush the cattle, when they had got them, and over a narrow valley, to the Black Swamp. Here, fires would

Barney remembered the startling suggestion of Fay, in front of the hut one night, that those who drank the durgged coffee might never wake again. The cutting out had been finished, the mob handed over to the head drover, the official paper pouched with Rilligan’s spare shirt in a valise in the cook’s cart, and the thousand head carefully heeded through the boundary gate and “ rung-up ” ou the small plain for the night. Very few of the cattle lay down at the usual hour. It would require some time for them to settle to the routine of the road. They stood, heads hanging. A few of them lay down as the night progressed, while one of the drovers rode constantly round and round on a softly stepping night horse, singing music hall ballads to soothe them. The riders off duty played poker beside the camp fire till 10 o’clock and

then turned in, after pretending to take a big drink of coffee from the dixie at the fire.

They noticed that “ Darkey ” was away at the moment of their drinking, and each man smiled to himself. Presently all were lying about the fire rolled in their blankets. Soon afterwards talk ceased, pipes and cigarettes were extinguished, -and steady breathing suggested that the camp was asleep. As a matter of fact, every man was watching the one man on duty, “Darky,” from the shelter of his blankets, when he gave the coffee an extra stir before mounting the nighthorse that, was tied to a bush, and riding out under the softly-shining stars to relieve the second watch. The second watch happened to be Gilligan, and he, too, it seemed, took a long drink of coffee before he lay, down in his blankets. Gilligan’s timepiece, a bulging, golden affair like an ornate door knob, had a small bell in the back of it, which chimed the hours and quarters, a type that was much in favour with cattle drovers, because it relieved them of the trouble of getting out of their blankets in the night to see the time. When it struck one, four horsemen emerged from the scrub at the further side of the plain as' the man riding round the cattle ceased singing suddenly and

[Author of ‘The Vanishing Horsemen/ -‘The Valley of Lagoons/ etc. All rights reserved.]

• began to whistle. It was the sign that I all was ready. Gilligan waited till he saw a party of riders carefully dividing the big mob into two as they moved them off the camp at a walk, and then he said to the others: “ Byebuck, you coves.” The five drovers ran with their saddles and bridles on their arms to the hollow where their thirty or forty horses were hobbled out for the night. There they found Midnight, who was the horsetailer with the cattle, waiting in the darkness with six horses. In a trice every mount was saddled, and the cavalcade moved off in the opposite direction to that taken by the slowlymoving cattle. Not a word passed as they rode in single file through the scrub by a (roundabout way to the hidden yards where the thieves were _to do their brand faking. There, in a tiny slab hut, jammed up against the cattle yards and surrounded on every side but one with dense scrub they found Barney Summers and John Patterson with two others. They concealed their horses. Every man was armed with a rifle or a revolver. “ How’s things?” asked Barney. “ Right as ninepence,” chuckled Gilligan. “ They’ll be here any minute. They’re goin’ slow, so as not to make the cattle excited. That’ll make it easier when they get them to the yards, they think.” “ Get set, then,” whispered Summers, “an’ no man speak till I tell him. Pass the word around. Keep your eye on them fires near the gate. They’ve been lit for the brands.” In the little hut there were eight men, each armed and each cool and determined. The thieves would have the cattle in the yards safely before they entered the hut. And then they would find a sharp surprise waiting for them. The best part of the whole thing to Barney was the fact that the hidden position, grown about as the hut was .with lignum scrub right up to the walls, gave Summers and his men complete concealment at point-blank range. The lignum grew ten feet high up to the rails of the yards, and the entrance for the cattle was grown across by a thin screen of the same scrub cut away on the inner side to provide a path once they had been forced through . the screen. “ The moonlighters have certainly picked out a fine place to pet caught in,” Summers could not refrain from whispering to Patterson, who lay next to him. “Did you warn Clarence?” the squatter whispered back anxiously. “ Time enough for that. He ain’t with the gang,” said Summers. “Too soon, an’ he might put the others wise. I’ll see that he slips away all right. I’ve got one of your niggers nearby with a horse an’ a note for him.” The next minute the lowing of cattle approaching the dry swamp cut short all further talk.

Crashing through the timber presently came half the big mob of a thousand _ head of Shorthorns. Softvoiced riders urged them onwards through the screen of lignum at the entrance to the yards, and the next moment the leaders were at the crude gates, fastened open for them to pass through. Six and eight abreast they jammed each other, to throng between the great boxwood posts, and the thieves _ whacked them liberally with hats, sticks, and whip handles to hurry them on their way. The big, bearded leader was well in evidence. He took up a position on top of one of the posts of the yards and gave orders like a head stockman. His big booming voice shouted orders and in a remarkably short space of tinm all the cattle were packed in the holding yard and the heavy gates were dragged to. Then the leader called the others to him to give them final instructions. He climbed down from the post and began to talk to them about the need for speed and thoroughness. Summers and his men waited and watched, tense as watch springs, in the shadows, for the next move. This ■ should be to the hut, where the branding irons were. Each of the eight men had a clear view of the thieves in the moonlight, for there were two openings in the hut to serve as glassless windows. Presently, to the amazement of Summers and his assistants, four uniformed police troopers stepped out of the scrub behind the thieves into the moonlight and jammed rifles under their noses. “ Up with your hands and no funny business. If they wink an eyelash blow holes in them, men,” commanded a sharp, authoritative, familiar voice. “On with the bracelets, Hogan; I’ll mind your bird. Right! Cover that hut and shoot any man that tries to get away. Surrender, in the name of the law!” (To be continued.) Next issue: “The Mystery Man Unmasked.”