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Rh They had reached the Humpey. It was only ten o'clock. They had scarcely been an hour at the corroboree and so much had happened. The four troopers were drawn up in the back verandah, apparently waiting. They touched their caps to Elsie, and Hallett asked them when they were to start.

"Twelve o'clock sharp, sir. We turn in for an hour's sleep first. We shall be as fresh as larks, and at Goondi by breakfast time, and we're off again to-morrow, a Moonlight trail, I believe," the sergeant added mysteriously. "Government orders. That's why we are doing this job tonight."

Lord Waveryng came out with Captain Macpherson and Lord Horace. He had some sealed packets in his hand. Lord Horace beckoned to the sergeant, and they all went into the verandah room, known as "The Boss's office," where Lord Horace transacted the business of his property. "Where's Mr. Blake?" asked Captain Macpherson, putting out his head.

"He has a bad headache and has gone to bed," replied Hallett, "and he is starting the first thing in the morning back to Baròlin Gorge. Do you want to speak to him?"

"Oh, no. it doesn't matter. I won't disturb him now. He wishes me to go over and see him to-morrow at the Gorge. I had intended going to Goondi at once, but I believe there is some official matter about which Mr. Blake wishes to consult me."

Captain Macpherson's wiry little frame dilated with importance. He liked being consulted on an official matter by the Colonial Secretary. He went back to the office. Elsie walked away to the sitting-room where the other ladies were yawning and waiting till the troopers had been dismissed. After a little while the sergeant came out of the office, his big square frame looking the thicker because of the sealed packets which were securely fastened into his breast pockets, and his inner man made glad physically and spiritually by Lord Horace's valedictory "nobbler" and Lord Waveryng's bank note. The sergeant