A LINDSAY 0' THE DALE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIV, Issue 13598, 18 November 1907, Page 3

A LINDSAY 0' THE DALE.

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

BY A. G. HALES, Author of " Tho Watcher on the Tower," " Driscoll, King of Scouts," " McGlnaky,"' " Jair tho Apostate," etc.; etc. COPYRIGHT. CHAPTER Vl.—(Continued.) They forgot that Red Michael knew of this place as well as themselves, and wore not so careful as usual, possibly because they knew that they were so much better mounted than tho police. ' All at once a bullet whistled past Basil McAllister's ear, and cut a slice out of the bark of a tree just behind him. Hello! ho shouted, "the Philistines are upon us," and ho threw up his handsome head and looked round for the enemy. Father lifted his rifie and glanced about him but Davie, ever cool in peril, called out : "This way, in among tho scrub," and rode off. The rest followed; and then out of the timber, right ahead, came the police, snapping their rifles as thoy rode. Father was the first to halt-, and, wheeling his horse, looked for Vernon; but the inspector was in the middle 01 ?, bunch of Ins men. He was too wily to ride in the lead, for ho knew that he was bitterly hated by a man who thirsted for his life. Dodging in and out amongst the timber, the gang had little to fear from the hunters. They were far and away better riders amongst the trees than any of the pursuers,they were better mounted, and they wero : better shots. It takes a lot of practice to know how to ride and shoot amongst; timber, and tho police were getting the worst of it, when, in crossing a patch of open country at- a. flying gallop, in order to take cover in the timber on the opposite side, Bryan's blood mare put her off foro-hoof into a wombat hole and came crashing down. Ho was not hurt, but. by the time ho had got the mare on her legs again, and had got into the saddle, tho police were close upon him. Vernon leapt from the saddle ; and, kneeling down, took deliberate aim at the back of pool Bryan's head. Father saw it all in the turn of an eye. Gathering his reins up, and dashing the spurs with heavy force into his horses flanks, he thundered at full speed across the lino of fire, and fairly hurled his body between Bryan and tho levelled rifle. At that momeut Vernon touched the trigger, and father swayed in the saddle and laughed, and the blood that welled up from his chest dyed his iron-grey beard with crimson streaks. It was Davie who dashed to tho big horse's side, and, snatching the reins from father's unnerved hand, wheeled the horso and rode for the timber, whilst Basil and Bryan covered his retreat-, shooting at any man who pressed too close, whether white or black. Davie made for a lonely camp, owned by a couple of- splitters; and there father was lifted from the. saddle and laid ,on a rude bunk. "I'm sped, Davie, dear lad," he murmured, "I'm sped." Then, after a while, the tears brimmed over his stem old eyes. "It is bitter, Davie, never to see your mother again, and Kate and wee Kenneth. I would have given my life for any of ioeih, an<f it's bitter hard to go the long journey without a parting word." Davie sat on the side of the rude bunk and laid a caressing hand on the iron-grey-hair. i "Bide "till," he whispered. " I'll take you to mother- if it can be done." Father lay very still after that, thinking —always thinking—with wide-open eyes. At- last there came tho sound of horse's hoofs, and, going to the door of tho hut-, Davie saw the same boundary rider who had given the gang the warning close to Frazer's station. " This is a bad business/' said ho, shaking his head. " That cursed Vernon seems to havo all tho luck in the end, don't he?" "Ho won't like his luck at the finish, if ! ,1 ..Jive,", answered ~Davi<3,... ..tlirougk--. his-> teeth." ' '. " "" "" """ " Your brother and that wild lieggar, Basil McAllister, have drawn the police right away from here. McAllister fell off his horse, pretending to bo wounded, and your brother helped him to, get to horse again and ride away, holding McAllister in the saddle. Tho police are following them towards Crawford's Ranges. They seem to think you and your father liavo made off there also. I'll forgive the police if they catch those two in the kind ?f country they are now in. Those hills are as steep 'as the sides of a church, and timbered from top to bottom. Tho gullies arc dark even in broad daylight, because they are so narrow, and the tmibcr is so dense. If Vernon goes in there after them he will lose a lot of his men, and he has dropped a few today as it is." * "Did you manage to speak with Bryan?" asked Davie. : "Yes; -ho said you wero to get your father home to your mother, somehow, , as that is the last place where Vernon wili look for him. Ho said, 'Tell Davie I'll keep Vernon's gang so busy that they won't havo any spare time to look for wounded men.'" " 1 will get lather home if it's to be done. How*? Well, I'll stick up the mail-coach tonight, and make Jimmy drive father to our home. He won't tell tales." " YouH need some help." <! Yes." - " Well, I've never done any real bushranging ' before-/ though I've lifted • a fewhead of cattle and sonic horses, but I won't see you stuck now you arc in a tight place." He held out his "hard, brown hand, and Davie shook it heartily. . "I'm off now." said tho boundary rider. "A word has been sent round for all of. chaps to meet at Red Michael's sawpits this afternoon." : "Hold on," cried Davie. " Do you know that it was Red Michael who led the police on our track? Do you know be sold us?" " Yes; you bet I do. Red Michael won't betray any more men." Davie nodded. He knew the custom that existed amongst the "ticket-." In. that terrible freemasonry of crime, death was tho certain reward of treachery when discovered. Davie went to sit bv father and watch him lovingly, whilst the hardy rider cantered away to the trysting-place. When ho arrived there he found about forty men -of all ages-assembled. Nearly all were criminals. All were hardened, desperate men. Without a word the boundary rider hobbled his horse, and sat down' near the sawpits. Someone handed him a , pannikin of raw, coarse ram. Ho drank it, and lit his pipe. After a while the doomed man came warily wit of the bush. , When he saw the assembly he would Lave fled, but it was too late. They fell upon him as wolves fall upon a wounded beast. He did not ask for pity, for lie knew that it would bo useless. They did not wa«te any time on tho mockery of a -trial. They knew he was guilty, and that tc men of their type was enough. A rope was run over the limb of a gum tree, one end was fastened round his neck, tho other end was grasped by a dozen terrible hands. . He was hoisted up on to the end of his own waggon—poor, ill-fated father's free gift to him. The leader of tho assemblv, a white-haired felon with a hideous record, cried, with a harsh laugh, "Give the cur -the rogue's sacrament-." A pannikin of rum was handed to him. which he tried to drink, but unsuccessfully. " Now, jump," cried the fierce old man. Red Michael's knees bentunder, him, he tried to jump, but his heart failed him, he uttered one wild cry for mercy, and then someone pushed him off the waggon, and the grim tragedy was at an end. CHAPTER VII. THE BLACK TERROR. It was almost dusk when Davie heard hoofs outside the splitters' hut once more, and going to the door he saw the boundary rider and tfhree, or four other mounted men. He gave them a welcome, and they dismounted and strode silently into the hut. and looked down upon father's pallid .face. "Are you easier, Captain Killowen?" asked the boundary rider. " I'm sped, my man, I'm sped," answered father. "I wish that I had sent Vernon out of the world before this had happened; but it's fate, and a man must not whimper. j " We've -settled Red Jlidhael's account," put Jo one of the men. " Ho- betrayed you

and your boys, captain, but. ho won't betray any more." Father looked up from under his shaggy brows, and nodded his head feebly. "Ho was a traitor, and deserved his fate," he whispered hoarsely. "Do as much foi' Vernon it' ever you lay hands on him." ' V- •' A low, .r hoarse, snarling cry broke from the group of men. "Host easy in yonr grave on that score, Kulowen," cried one man, " Veraon has had a long rope, but sooner or later he will fall . into the hands of some of the bush brigade, and when that happens he will pay. a big price for his misdeeds. There are plenty of others, besides you and your sons, whom he has driven desperate, and someone is sure to get him gome day." 'Then they all eureed Vernon in dreadful fashion, all excepting Davio, who sat by father and held his hand, and said never a word; but they all knew that ho would follow Vernon to the end of the world. After about an hour, Davio whispered to father to remain quiet with the two splitters, and then lie took his horse Honeyball and, followed by the men who had come to help him, rode away to stick up the Royal Mail. This did not turn out to.be such an easy matter as it had been on other occasions. There were three or four Australian golddiggers on tho coach, who were going home with tho wealth they had won by hard work and good fortune, and as soon as they heard the cry "Bail up!" they opened lire on the bushrangers, and a very wicked light commenced. At the arst volley from the coach two of the highwaymen fell from their horses, one shot through the brain; tho other got a mortal wound, from which ho died in a few minutes. Someone shot one of the leading horses in tho coach, and "Jimmy," the driver, | leapt down and stood by his team, taking ino part in the fray. It was quite a little : time before the melee was at an end, for I the diggers were bold,, resolute fellows, ; and well armed. But the bushrangers were desperate men, who cared little if they were killed or not ; and knowing that they fought with ropes round their necks, they did not dream of allowing themselves to bo defeated. When the fight was over, the bushrangers looted tho coach and made prisoners of all who were not past help. Then a saddle-hack was pressed into tho coach team in place of the horso that had been shot, and father was carried on a rude stretcher from the splitters' hut to th 6 coach, and Dave, mounting 'his horse, bade Jimmy, the driver, pick up his ribbons and drive to our old home. One of tho gang rode inside. the coach to attend to father on that last journey, and the coach moved off slowly. In the usual course of its journey it had to pass close to our hut; and when" it drew up, mother and Ken and I ran out, foi wo all knew Davio at a glance. One look at his white, drawn faco told us that evil had happened. In a moment mother was inside the coach, kneeeling by father's side. Ho knew her, and his rugged face'lit up with great joy; for no matter what his faults may have been, he loved mother as few women arc ever loved ir this world. Wo got him inside our homo after a 'it-tie trouble, and as wo laid him on the bed ho gave a great sigh of relief. Mother and I and Ken gathered round him in those last solemn moments, and did'all thai could be done for him. Good old Davie, on his big horse, did tireless scout duty in tho adjoining bush; every now and again ho would ride up and, dismounting, como to father's side for a few moments; and it- was pitiful to N see tho love that existed between tho so two. They j did not say much to each other, but when their eyes met, there was an eloquence in each glance chat convoyed more than words could have done. Yet every now and again father's eyes roamed towards the door, and at such times there was such a world.,of yearning in his poor, dear eyes, that I could almost have cried out with the pain it gave mo to sit helpless and watch him. We 'all knew that, ho was longing for a sight of Bryan's handsome face before he died. Once Davie, laying his hand on the grey head, said soothingly, " Bide patient, Dad; bide patient for a little while. Boy Bryan will come to you in spite of all tho police in Australia," , , "He'll come if ho can, Davie: T know that," was the low reply. " But Vernon is an unforgiving hound; and ho is clever," though ho is a villain and a coward." "He'll need to be clever," was Davie's answer, "to keep Bryan Kiflowen from his father's deathbed. Bryan and his chum Basil McAllister are a match for any two men living in the hush, Dad." Father smiled a little at 'this, and after a' while he said, "Basil McAllister is a grand laddie, Davie; he's as true, as- Steel. I'd trust him with a hundred ' lives-if I had them."' The words wero- scarcely . out of father's lips ere. we heard a sound outside the hut, and.Davie, picking up his rifle',, leapt like a young lion to meet the danger. But when the door opened, in marched old Mr. McAllister and his bonny daughter, Mary, and when I saw the look that 'swept into Dayio's faco as his eyes fell upon her, I learnt a secret tTiat thrilled my heart with pain, for in that moment I knew that both my bravo brothers were in love with Bonny Mary o' the Glenas she was called thereabouts. They both,loved her, and neither knew the 11ate of the other's heart, for they wero not the kind of lads to prate about a lass who was dear to them. Mr. McAllister was a sternly religions man, and he ad long with father and tallied to him about the life beyond the grave j whilst .Davie and I talked to Mary, until I Davio said it was time he went scouting j agafn. , * ! So tho hours passed, until we heard the rush 1 of galloping feet, and Davie,. with Bryan and Basil McAllister, came thunder- ; ing up to our door. Bryan sprung to earth, j and let his beautiful mare stand untothercd. "Am I in-time?" said he, in his curt, commanding way. I nodded dumbly, for my heart was too full for words; and Bryan passed me with a step that rang, as his spurred heels struck the doorstep, and in a moment ho was kneeling ,by father's side and had pillowed the grey head ih his arms. Ken stood by sobbing bitterly, hut mother knelt and did not- cry—sorrow had 'ted the fountains of her heart. Out in tho other room Mary McAllister had met her brother Basil, and was petting him and making much of him ; but he, in his wilful, dcvil-may-caro fashion, made light of it all. . .. When she introduced me to him he looked at me in a way that made my blood tingle; - I cannot explain the mystery of it —I would not if I could I knew that I was looking at the one man m all tho world for me. ! Both erf my brothers were fine-looking young men;, Bryan was dark, and fiercely,; haughtily handsome, with a etern, - overmastering look about him. Davie was fair, with a gentle, courteous graciousness that was wonderful in one so young. Bui this young man, who held my hand, and leaked fearlessly into my eyes, had a reckleassess in his bearing that made mo think of the, tales my mother had told mo of the' gay; cavaliers who rode with Prince Rupert. He did not swagger, but there was that; about him that made you know that he; would as soon fight against odds as walk a mile, and yet there was something so winning hi his manner that I wonder anyone had the heart to seek his life. (To bo continued daily.)