CONRAD BAILEY. 
 Old, Rare & Fine Books 
 P.O. Box 85, BLACK ROCK. 
 Victoria. Australia .
 
 TOLD IN 
 THE DORMITORY 
 
 By 
 
 R. G. JENNINGS 
 
 MELBOURNE 
 
 THOMAS C. LOTHIAN 
 1911 
 
 PRINTED IN ENGLAND
 
 Printed by Butler Sc Tanner, Frome and Londoa.
 
 Stac* 
 
 A.-. & 
 
 PR 
 6013 
 
 Preface 
 
 "IT THEN I have been on duty in the Board- 
 ing-House, I have told these stories 
 to the boys in the dormitories. They have 
 asked me to publish them that they may 
 read them for themselves. It is with their 
 kind assurances that I send forth this book, 
 not only to them, but to those hundreds of 
 other boys whom I have the good fortune to 
 know ; and to those whom I do not know, 
 but wish I did.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE ANARCHIST n 
 
 THE RELIC . . . . . -39 
 
 THE RESCUE 57 
 
 THE SPY 75 
 
 THE RISE OF THE SCHOOL . . 95 
 
 THE RING 117 
 
 THE OTHER MAN 135 
 
 KOOKABURRA I5 1 
 
 THE SWAGMAN 169 
 
 THE JUNIOR CLERK 185 
 
 SEELENBERGER'S REVENGE .... 203 
 
 THE CONVICT 223
 
 THE ANARCHIST
 
 The Anarchist 
 
 THE first year of this new century was 
 not only a memorable one for Australia, 
 but for the whole of the British nation. It 
 was then, on a May morning, amid the shouts 
 and cheers of a joyous multitude, that His 
 Royal Highness the Duke of York opened the 
 first Parliament of the Commonwealth of 
 Australia. This great event naturally attrac- 
 ted immense crowds to the city of Melbourne 
 where the brilliant function took place. There 
 were representatives of the great powers, well- 
 wishers and sightseers, and there were others 
 who had different motives for their presence in 
 the city and it is with these that we are 
 chiefly concerned. 
 
 It happened, one evening, as a certain Mr. 
 Joseph Bollen was seated comfortably in an 
 
 armchair in the smoking-room of his club, 
 
 11
 
 12 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 enjoying an after-dinner cigar, that he noted 
 the presence in the room of a stranger of a 
 somewhat foreign appearance. Mr. Bollen 
 was aware that at this time Melbourne was 
 particularly full of visitors, so he did not 
 trouble to inquire into the identity of his com- 
 panion, but buried his good-natured, chubby 
 face behind the pages of his evening paper. 
 He formed a marked contrast to the stranger 
 whose sharp, foreign features and high fore- 
 head were fringed with dense, black hair 
 which stood upright. It was a cynical face, 
 and by reason of its striking appearance of 
 dejection, might have belonged to a man who 
 had championed a lost cause and probably 
 not a good one. It was noticeable that he 
 frequently cast nervous glances towards the 
 door as if he expected some one to enter. 
 
 " Excuse me," he said at length, " but do 
 you expect Mr. Childs to-night ? " 
 
 He spoke with a slightly halting accent, as 
 if he were speaking a strange language, though 
 he spoke it well. 
 
 Mr. Bollen put down his paper and looked 
 across at his companion.
 
 THE ANARCHIST 13 
 
 " Yes, my good sir ; he was to meet me here 
 at eight o'clock. Do you happen to know 
 him?" 
 
 " No, no. At least not exactly. You 
 will pardon me ; but is he not late ? " 
 
 Mr. Bollen pulled out his watch and glanced 
 somewhat curiously at the foreigner. 
 
 " Late ? By Jove, yes ! Never known 
 him to be late before. Must have been 
 detained. Important business in respect to 
 the Duke, no doubt." 
 
 He paused and shook his glasses from his 
 nose, and settled his bulky person in a com- 
 fortable position, which suggested that he 
 intended to enter into a prolonged conversa- 
 tion with the foreigner. 
 
 " Interesting man, this Mr. Childs, is he 
 not ? " he continued, addressing the stranger 
 in quite a confidential manner. Nor did he 
 seem to evince the least curiosity in regard 
 to the presence of this strange individual who 
 had so daringly and impertinently entered 
 the club-house, without the privilege of 
 membership, with the one object of gaining 
 some information about this Mr. Childs, who,
 
 14 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 from his keen interest and frequent questions, 
 seemed to interest him intensely. 
 
 " Yes," went on Mr. Bollen ; " an exceed- 
 ingly interesting personality. A man with 
 a history, I should say a man who will make 
 his mark. He is in Australia, I understand, 
 for the purpose of shadowing his Royal High- 
 ness and generally protecting his person." 
 
 As the foreigner sat there, he drank in every 
 word that his unsuspecting informant uttered. 
 Then he broke the silence himself with a 
 question of such a quaint nature that even 
 the slow-thinking Mr. Bollen was forced to 
 wonder. 
 
 " Has he a scar," he asked, " on the side 
 of his neck ? " 
 
 Mr. Bollen, in fact, was so captivated by 
 the uniqueness of this question and the in- 
 tensity of interest with which it was asked, 
 that he did not reply. The foreigner noticed 
 his uneasiness and was quick to act. 
 
 " You must excuse me," he went on in his 
 halting way. "I see it _is an embarrassing 
 question. Please do not consider it. I hear 
 the clock striking, and I fear I must leave you."
 
 THE ANARCHIST 15 
 
 With these abrupt words, he bowed with 
 a peculiar, foreign gesture and then hurried 
 from the room. 
 
 Mr. Bollen put his cigar back into his mouth 
 and blew a great cloud of smoke into the air 
 and watched it slowly float towards the ceiling. 
 
 " I wonder if the man's mad," he thought. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to discuss the ques- 
 tion as to whether the man was mad or not, 
 but when a stranger enters a club-house 
 without the privilege of membership, it 
 either shows, as has already been suggested, 
 a gross impertinence or, on the other hand, 
 an audacious enterprise. There must obvi- 
 ously be some reason for such an unblushing 
 intrusion, and it was for Carl Matras to decide 
 whether his mission had proved successful. 
 It is true he had not found the man he had 
 hoped to meet, but he had obtained certain 
 information which had helped to a great 
 extent to solve a difficulty that had existed 
 in his mind. His conversation with the 
 chubby old gentleman in the armchair was 
 not of itself of any grave importance, for he 
 had learnt little from that source of this man
 
 16 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 whom people called Mr. Childs. The fact, 
 however, that the famous detective had been 
 absent from the Club that evening, helped to 
 intensify this very unpleasant man's sus- 
 picions. He certainly had hoped to discover 
 whether the detective had a scar on the side 
 of his neck, which might seem to be of minor 
 importance, though it would have satisfied 
 Matras as to the identity of this one man of 
 all others whose presence he so strongly 
 dreaded. The scar had evidently been re- 
 ceived on some previous occasion of which 
 Matras had some knowledge. 
 
 In the road outside the club-house, the 
 electric lights exhibited, through the drizzling 
 rain that was falling, a scene of confused dis- 
 order. Large skeletons of half-completed 
 archways and various devices of decorative 
 art marked the route along which, in a few 
 days, His Royal Highness, the Duke of York, 
 would proceed on his way to open this first 
 Parliament of the new Commonwealth. Surely 
 this city would not be outdone in her tokens 
 of loyalty and welcome. 
 
 It was perhaps with good reason that Carl
 
 THE ANARCHIST 17 
 
 Matras, when he hurried from the club-house, 
 avoided as far as possible the main thorough- 
 fares. After pausing for a moment on the 
 steps and glancing in both directions, he 
 gathered the collar of his coat about his face 
 and walked with a strange, uneven jerk until 
 he came to a long narrow street. It was a 
 dark night, and thinking further precaution 
 unnecessary, or that it would give him an 
 appearance of ease, he lit a cigarette. He 
 made his way for some distance along the 
 narrow street, which was little more than a 
 lane, until he came to a dilapidated terrace. 
 Here he halted before a door, and taking a 
 large key from his pocket, he turned the lock 
 and entered, closing the door behind him. 
 
 A few moments later a man came out 
 from the shadow of a doorway on the opposite 
 side of the street and walked slowly away. 
 It would be as well to remark, perhaps, that 
 he had a scar on the side of his neck. 
 
 Now, it is particularly noticeable, in tracing 
 the great events of history, that they are in 
 reality the outcome of some single individual's 
 ideas. Sometimes it happens that these ideas
 
 18 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 are shallow and misguided and are followed 
 with that blind doggedness which ignorance 
 and false ambitions engender. There are 
 those who desire the equal distribution of 
 wealth and the overthrow of authority, and 
 societies are formed and campaigns organized 
 for the purpose of carrying out these views. 
 There exist, in various parts of the world, 
 sections ol malcontents who employ the foulest 
 means to attain their ends. The business of 
 these extremists or anarchists is a dangerous 
 occupation indeed, and frequently ends in 
 their own death as well as that of the unfor- 
 tunate object of their hatred. In fact, bomb- 
 throwing is a distinctly unpleasant hobby. 
 No doubt Carl Matras had experienced the 
 sensation, and as he sat up through the long 
 night, poring over his plans of the city of 
 Melbourne, he was tempted to speculate as 
 to the possibilities of success. The under- 
 taking demanded an indomitable courage, 
 and yet he feared a single man who had 
 followed him from Europe to Australia. He 
 feared him more than he dreaded the danger 
 of his mission.
 
 THE ANARCHIST 19 
 
 So the great May morning dawned. The 
 long tiers of seats that lined the route were 
 filled at an early hour with a dense, expectant 
 throng. Eager faces gazed from windows 
 and peered from roof tops. The arches and 
 festoons were brilliant in their completeness. 
 Indeed, such a lavish display, supported by 
 genuine, joyous enthusiasm, has seldom been 
 surpassed in the history of the nations. For 
 was not this the birthday of a new nation ? 
 The various officials and representatives, as 
 they passed on their way to the Exhibition 
 Buildings where the great ceremony was to 
 take place, each received his share of welcome, 
 for the heart of the people was one that day. 
 There was no disorder. The dense mass waited 
 in anxious expectancy, and those around the 
 iron gates of the great building, where the 
 crowd was thickest, gazed up at the dome, 
 and saw there, floating gently in the faint 
 breeze, the flag of England, and they felt 
 their hearts stir within them. 
 
 Carl Matras, as he sought out a convenient 
 place outside these gates, also looked up at 
 the flag, and a cruel, desperate expression
 
 20 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 lit up his eyes. His thin, ferret-like face was 
 pale and strained, and as he heard in the 
 distance the growing cheers of the happy 
 populace, he knew that the Governor-General's 
 escort, which was to precede the royal pro- 
 cession by a few minutes, was approaching. 
 The swaying of the crowd and waving of 
 handkerchiefs, and the now deafening shouts 
 told that the popular young Governor-General 
 was indeed being greeted with real enthusiasm. 
 Nearer they approached the gates, till at 
 length the outsiders came into view, followed 
 by a body of mounted rangers who were in 
 immediate advance of the postilions of the 
 vice-regal carriage. The almost boyish face 
 of the Governor-General smiled in response 
 to the cheers which greeted him on all sides, 
 and as he saluted with gracious dignity, it 
 was easy, in spite of his smiles, to notice the 
 drawn, worried expression of his handsome 
 countenance. Suddenly the escort drew up. 
 There was a block somewhere, and as the 
 carriage came to a standstill immediately in 
 front of Matras, the Governor-General leant 
 forward and beckoned one of his equerries
 
 THE ANARCHIST 21 
 
 to him. It was whispered in some circles, 
 that the responsibility of the safety of the 
 Duke was weighing heavily upon him. It 
 was known that he had received several 
 anonymous letters warning him of the presence 
 in the city of men of suspected character, 
 whose aim was the overthrow of royalty. The 
 Governor-General gave some hurried instruc- 
 tions and the equerry rode away to have 
 them carried out, and in another few moments 
 an order was shouted along the lines guard- 
 ing the entrance to the grounds. With one 
 accord they moved back two paces on each 
 side, and thereby widened the roadway. 
 Then the great gates were thrown open, and 
 the strains of the National Anthem announced 
 the arrival of the first procession. 
 
 The crowd now waited in anxious expect- 
 ancy for the arrival of the royal party, and 
 indeed the cheers could already be heard in 
 the far distance. Of the tens of thousands 
 that lined the streets that day, thousands 
 had never seen a member of the Royal Family. 
 They were now to greet in person the heir to 
 their own throne in their island home twelve
 
 22 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 thousand miles away. Only a few months 
 ago, they had received with mournful resig- 
 nation, the news of the death of their beloved 
 Queen Victoria, whose name their state bore. 
 They had heard, too, with the same feeling 
 of concern, of the delayed coronation of King 
 Edward VII, and the heir to the throne had 
 not yet assumed the title of Prince of Wales. 
 The ^expectancy increased as the cheers grew 
 clearer, and Carl Matras experienced a sensa- 
 tion of cold uneasiness as he thrust his thin 
 hand deep into his coat pocket to make sure 
 that the concealed bomb was ready to do its 
 infernal work. Nearer and clearer came the 
 shouts and cheers, and the great crowd began 
 to sway to and fro as each individual craned 
 his neck to catch a first glimpse of the Duke 
 who sat there in the foremost carriage, appar- 
 ently unmoved, only recognizing with a slow, 
 methodical movement, the wild, spontaneous 
 outburst of enthusiasm, while the Duchess, 
 who was seated beside him, bowed in dignified 
 response. 
 
 The carriage was nearly opposite Matras. 
 In another moment it would reach the nearest
 
 THE ANARCHIST 23 
 
 point to him. His hands twitched nervously 
 as he fingered the bomb. He had indeed been 
 concerned in similar business before, but 
 this meant death to him. He knew that, 
 and his face was ghastly in its intensity of 
 hidden purpose. Slowly his hand rose. In 
 one second it would all be over the wild 
 cheers would be turned to groans. The hand 
 was lifted from his pocket, the distance was 
 calculated, he could feel himself swaying with 
 the shouting throng. His hand rose a little 
 higher, and then 
 
 Something firm had taken hold of his out- 
 stretched arm. He looked up and saw a face 
 peering into his. It was to him the most 
 dreaded face in all the world and he heard, 
 even above the wild, deafening cheers, the calm, 
 clear voice of Mr. Childs : "A thousand par- 
 dons," it said. " I fear I have interrupted you." 
 
 Then the gates were thrown open and the 
 strains of " God Save the King," floated like 
 an answered prayer above the din. The gates 
 swung back again and their Royal Highnesses, 
 the Duke and Duchess of York, passed on 
 their way.
 
 24 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 When Matras had sufficiently recovered 
 from his profound surprise, he looked around 
 expecting to meet again the piercing eyes of 
 his captor, but to his utter astonishment, the 
 detective had disappeared. Such extraor- 
 dinary conduct on the part of the man who 
 had dogged his steps ever since he had come 
 to Melbourne, perplexed the anarchist con- 
 siderably. Apparently the little episode had 
 passed unnoticed, and no one had even sus- 
 pected his motive. He turned, and in dazed 
 wonderment made his way hurriedly through 
 the crowd until he reached a side street 
 which led away from the dense multitude. 
 On he went, scarcely daring to look round 
 lest he might see the detective following him ; 
 but there was no fear of that. Mr. Childs' 
 extraordinary plan lay in quite another direc- 
 tion. It seemed almost beyond common 
 reason to believe that he had allowed this dan- 
 gerous anarchist to go free. Yet he had done 
 so. The man had been in his very grasp, and 
 now, to all intents and purposes, he was a free 
 man. The detective had surely never had such 
 an opportunity in his life of having his name
 
 THE ANARCHIST 25 
 
 on all lips and of making himself famous. Yet 
 no one that day even so much as guessed 
 what an awful calamity had been averted. 
 No one could possibly have explained, if he 
 had known, the detective's perplexing purpose. 
 Yet, late that night, when Mr. Childs re- 
 turned to his rooms somewhat tired from the 
 perpetual strain that had been so unconsci- 
 ously laid upon him, he did not seek rest. 
 He merely drew a big armchair up to the fire, 
 and replacing his heavy coat with a dressing- 
 gown, he quietly lit a cigar and lay back in 
 his chair. It is true, however, that his right 
 hand did find its way to his vest pocket, where 
 lay concealed a little revolver that might 
 prove useful in an emergency. He drew it 
 out, and in a leisurely fashion brightened up 
 the jewelled handle with a little piece of 
 chamois and then replaced it in his pocket 
 with a genuine expression of pride, for it was 
 the gift of a king. While engaged in this 
 trivial occupation, it was easy to perceive 
 that he was engrossed in thought. He sud- 
 denly rose from his seat as if something had 
 suggested itself to him, and going over to the
 
 26 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 sideboard, he lifted a decanter containing 
 port wine and placed it on the table in the 
 middle of the room. Beside it he put two 
 glasses, and then, standing beside the table 
 in various attitudes, he endeavoured to adjust 
 it in such a way that the decanter and glasses 
 were clearly reflected in the mirror of the 
 sideboard. Having satisfied himself that the 
 position was convenient for his purpose, he 
 returned to his seat and in a few minutes 
 appeared to be in a deep sleep. But a few 
 minutes later he opened his eyes and sat up, 
 then leaning over, he touched the electric bell 
 at his side, and in a moment his man-servant 
 entered. He gave him some hurried instruc- 
 tions and then looked up at the clock on the 
 mantelpiece. It was nearly midnight. Just 
 as the clock struck the hour there was a ring 
 of the door-bell and the servant returned, 
 announcing that a man wished to see him 
 privately. The detective rose from his seat 
 and instructed the servant to admit the visitor. 
 " So far, so good," he thought, as he awaited 
 the entrance of the man. He cast a hurried 
 look around the room to satisfy himself that
 
 THE ANARCHIST 27 
 
 all was in readiness. " So far, so good," he 
 repeated, as if his little plan had so far worked 
 according to his desires, and there was appar- 
 ently high hope of the plan continuing as he 
 would wish it. It was like the spider and 
 the fly business. He had lured his man into 
 his den. His object, whatever it might be, 
 would undoubtedly make itself clear very 
 soon. 
 
 The door at length opened and Carl Matras 
 entered. The fly came into the web. 
 
 The detective bowed as if he were receiving 
 a distinguished guest, and appeared to betray 
 no surprise at this midnight visit, which he 
 had so clearly expected. 
 
 " Pray sit down," he said, motioning to- 
 wards a chair. " I presume you do not object 
 to smoking. May I offer you a cigar ? " 
 
 " No, I thank you. I do not desire to 
 smoke. I prefer also that I stand. But may 
 we proceed to business at once ? Why did 
 you not arrest me to-day ? That is why I 
 am here. I want to know." 
 
 " Well, my friend, you have your answer 
 in your own words. I did not arrest you,
 
 28 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 because I desired you to come here to inquire 
 the reason." 
 
 if 
 
 " But how did you know I would come ? " 
 
 " My good man, anarchists are, much as 
 they might disguise it, merely human beings. 
 At least I believe so. It is my purpose to 
 discover that to-night." 
 
 Matras looked round the room, but did not 
 reply. He noted the quiet taste with which 
 everything was arranged, and the many photo- 
 graphs of celebrated men. In the corner he 
 noticed a large engraving of the Duke, signed 
 by himself. 
 
 " I wanted you to come here to-night," 
 the detective went on, " to talk to you as one 
 man might talk to another. If there is one 
 thing I admire in a man, it is pluck. You are 
 an anarchist, but " 
 
 " Then why did you save my life to-day ? >] 
 
 " You admit I saved it ? " 
 
 " You saved a score of lives, including that 
 cursed Duke of yours, who " 
 
 " Enough ! Not a word about him. It 
 is not your fault that he is not dead." 
 
 "It is your fault that he is alive. Curse
 
 THE ANARCHIST 29 
 
 him and all his kind. I suppose you expect 
 me to come cringing to you to ask you to hush 
 up the matter and to thank you for saving 
 my life." 
 
 " Matras that is your name, is it not ? 
 I would like to inform you that yonder door 
 is locked. It will be wise for you to submit 
 quietly to what I intend to do. I am going 
 to make a man of you, but before I begin, 
 it might be as well to tell you who I am. I 
 am known in this part of the world as plain 
 Mr. Childs. That is good enough for my 
 purpose. My name is " 
 
 " You need not tell me, I know." 
 
 " How do you know ? " 
 
 The anarchist came a step closer and pointed 
 at the detective's neck. 
 
 " That," he said, " that scar." 
 
 Mr. Childs, in spite of the occasion, laughed. 
 
 r< Then you remember me. It is not the first 
 time we have met. But look here, man. The 
 hour is late and I am beastly tired. I said 
 just now that I like you because of your pluck, 
 but I hate your poor, misguided mission. 
 You fellows, who undertake this business,
 
 30 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 think you are doing a jolly good work. You 
 kill a king, and you think that you are going 
 to overthrow the monarchy. Not a bit of it. 
 Now mind you : Socialism is a splendid thing 
 and all men desire it, but you don't know what 
 Socialism is. You think it is the dragging of 
 people down to your own scurvy level. You 
 talk of the equal distribution of wealth, but 
 you are as ignorant of the meaning of wealth 
 as you are of royalty. Now it is too late to 
 preach to you to-night, and what I have to 
 say to you is far too important to consider in 
 so short a time, but you will not leave this 
 room until you have promised to give up this 
 infernal business. You are a powerful man 
 in your own sphere and could probably cham- 
 pion whatever cause you desired to under- 
 take. Come back to me in the morning and I 
 shall explain what I want, and why I want it. 
 You will then understand why I have given 
 you your liberty." 
 
 Carl Matras looked towards the door. He 
 was in the presence of a man whom he dreaded. 
 He was in the presence of a man who was 
 going to force him to promise to give up his
 
 THE ANARCHIST 31 
 
 life's work. He turned towards the detective. 
 
 " And if I gave you my promise and also 
 consented to return to these rooms to-morrow, 
 would you take my word ? " 
 
 " I would not take your word. It is worth 
 nothing, but you will come." 
 
 " How do you know ? " 
 
 Mr. Childs did not reply at once, but gazed 
 for some moments into the face of his captive. 
 
 " You will come," he said slowly, with 
 measured accents, " because you know that 
 you are in my power. One word from me 
 and your whole career will be over. It is late. 
 I cannot skirmish about any longer. Do you 
 promise ? " 
 
 " But my promise, you say, is worth 
 nothing." 
 
 " To-night it is worth nothing. To-morrow 
 I shall take your word and believe it." 
 
 The anarchist looked vacantly at the detec- 
 tive. Why was it that he felt so insignificant 
 in this man's presence ? He did not know. 
 Yet he knew that this man possessed a power 
 far beyond his own. He looked towards the 
 door again and shrugged his shoulders.
 
 32 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 " Well," he said, with a despairing gesture, 
 " I promise what you ask and I shall be here 
 in the morning to listen to your sermon." 
 
 Mr. Childs sighed as if the answer gave him 
 great relief. He had gained a promise that 
 he did not value. So far there seemed a 
 want of method in his procedure. But let us 
 wait. 
 
 " Now," said the great man, still speaking 
 in slow, steady accents. " We have had quite 
 a pleasant interview, far pleasanter than I 
 had anticipated, and you have remained 
 remarkably quiet for an anarchist. There 
 is just one little courtesy I would like to 
 perform before we depart." 
 
 As he spoke he walked to the table and 
 began to fill the glasses. 
 
 " I want you before you go," he proceeded, 
 " to drink to the fulfilment of your promise." 
 
 He looked again at Matras, who now stood 
 beside the table. He noticed the nervous 
 tension of his features. Would his plan suc- 
 ceed ? The great moment was approaching 
 which would decide whether his extraordinary 
 method was to win. Even Mr. Childs himself,
 
 THE ANARCHIST 33 
 
 with all his apparent indifference, felt the 
 extreme nervous strain. He was endeavour- 
 ing, as in a game of cards, to force his oppo- 
 nent's hand. Everything depended on the 
 next few moments. Would the plan fail ! 
 But with a sudden flash of thought, Matras 
 realized that his chance had come. He was 
 prepared for this emergency, little guessing 
 that the opportunity would so enticingly 
 present itself. 
 
 1 Yes," said the detective, " let us drink 
 success to your promise." 
 
 So saying, he turned and walked towards 
 the sideboard and returned the decanter to 
 its place. Suddenly a thrill, strangely like 
 joy, ran through his whole being. It was 
 only the act of a second, yet he saw it reflected 
 in the mirror. He saw what he had almost 
 against reason desired to see. It had hap- 
 pened as he had hoped it would. In that 
 one second the anarchist had noiselessly and 
 with the quickness of a trained hand, dropped 
 a small tabloid into the glass from which the 
 detective would drink. 
 
 " Now," he said, slowly turning and showing 
 
 c
 
 34 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 no indication that the action had been ob- 
 served, " let us drink not to the success of 
 your promise, after all, but another toast which 
 you will propose. What will it be ? " 
 
 He leant across the table and perceived 
 again the nervous twitching of Matras' face. 
 
 " Look," he continued. " Let us drink 
 the health of His Royal Highness. See his 
 picture there in the place of honour." 
 
 Matras, with the object of assuming an easy 
 demeanour rather than of conforming with 
 the detective's suggestion, turned to note the 
 engraving. He looked into the quiet, digni- 
 fied features of the man he had endeavoured to 
 kill. A strange sensation passed through his 
 mind, and while it was passing Mr. Childs 
 changed the positions of the two glasses. 
 
 " No ! " said Matras turning again. " To- 
 morrow I might drink that toast, but not to- 
 night." 
 
 " Then I shall drink it alone," replied the 
 detective, raising his glass to his lips. " I 
 drink to the health of George, Duke of 
 York." 
 
 Matras stood like one stupefied and watched
 
 THE ANARCHIST 35 
 
 his captor drink what he fully believed to be 
 the poisoned wine. 
 
 Then followed a scene which none but a born 
 actor could have performed. It was enacted 
 with wonderful effect. Perhaps it was not 
 altogether in accordance with the accepted 
 laws of medical experience, but for the next 
 few moments the detective acted the poisoned 
 man with such dramatic reality that the very 
 eyes of the anarchist glowed as in the hour of 
 triumph. He watched his companion slowly 
 sink back into the recess of his armchair. He 
 watched, with bated breath, the limbs as they 
 slowly contracted. Then when all the strength 
 of the man seemed to have gone from him, the 
 anarchist stood before him with a cruel glow 
 of victory. 
 
 " Ah ! " he said, dramatically holding his 
 own glass before his lips, " what is my promise 
 worth now ? Who is the better man this 
 time ? I drink to the success of anarchism." 
 
 With a quick, gurgling laugh and a flourish 
 of his hand, he lifted his glass towards his lips. 
 In one moment all would have been over, but 
 the detective, watching for this moment
 
 36 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 through his half-closed eyes, darted from his 
 seat like a serpent from its coil. 
 
 " Don't drink it, man, it's poison," he 
 shouted, and with one quick sweep of his out- 
 stretched hand, he struck the poisoned glass 
 from the grasp of the anarchist, and it met 
 the wall with a sharp click like a trigger on 
 an empty barrel. 
 
 The anarchist stood there, how long he knew 
 not, but he gazed, like one half-stunned, into 
 the placid countenance of his conqueror, who 
 now stood above him like some overwhelming 
 power. Then suddenly, not knowing why he 
 did it, he thrust out his hand and grasped the 
 detective's in a firm, determined grip. 
 
 " I promise," he said, " I promise." 
 
 And he kept his word.
 
 THE RELIC
 
 The Relic 
 
 WE always called him the Duke. I don't 
 quite know why, but the name seemed 
 to suit him exactly, and there had been a 
 rumour that he was something of the kind, 
 but as dukes don't usually dabble in school- 
 mastering, I rather discredited the idea. 
 Anyhow, if he wasn't a duke, he certainly 
 would have been if he had had half a chance. 
 But for Chops and the Duke, I believe 
 I would have had quite a dreary time at 
 school. I don't even know how Chops got his 
 name, for he wasn't an ugly fellow, in fact, 
 he was very much the reverse, though he 
 always had" a mischievous look in his eye. 
 His chief claim to fame lay in the fact that 
 on a certain occasion he had placed an alarm 
 clock under the bed of a junior master. As 
 the clock was set to ring at the awkward hour
 
 40 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 of three in the morning, it was quite reason- 
 able to suppose that the crash, which for a 
 moment drowned the peal of the bell, was 
 due to his contact with the water jug as he 
 sprang from his bed. The fact remained 
 that the junior master made no report of the 
 affair, with the sole purpose of making the 
 fellows imagine that he had slept through 
 the din. So you see what a delightful fellow 
 Chops was. 
 
 But the great episode which caused both 
 the Duke and Chops to be brought into pro- 
 minence happened in rather a peculiar way. 
 
 We were nearing the end of the History 
 lesson, and the Duke was dealing at some 
 length with the various types of English 
 Admirals, which was quite his pet topic. He 
 kept our attention that day, I remember, in 
 a most marvellous manner, for he had on the 
 table beside him a small box. What it con- 
 tained none of us knew, but he promised to 
 show us the contents when the lesson was 
 over, if we showed enough intelligence in 
 answering. You might be quite sure our 
 answers were phenomenal. No one missed
 
 THE RELIC 41 
 
 a question, and the Duke was delighted. He 
 put his hand on the mysterious box, and while 
 he fingered it with the express purpose, appar- 
 ently, of holding us in further suspense, he 
 worked us up for the climax. " So I have 
 here," he said, " a relic of considerable value. 
 It was once the property, I might mention, 
 of a great admiral. Perhaps some of you 
 would not only like to see it, but might desire 
 to go further, and handle it, for I think it 
 adds reality to history to be able to say that 
 we have actually touched some famous relic. 
 You no doubt recall that instance when Sir 
 Roger de Coverley experienced the same 
 feelings, when he expressed a desire to sit on 
 the Coronation Chair in King Edward the 
 Confessor's Chapel in the famous " 
 
 At this stage Chops began to flick his 
 fingers, and the Duke, naturally supposing 
 that he had some further information to add, 
 paused for a moment. 
 
 " Well ? " he said. 
 
 Chops got out of his seat and went up to 
 the table. He had something in his hand 
 which he (juietly placed on the Duke's book.
 
 42 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 It was a large moth which he had found dead 
 in the corner of his desk. 
 
 " Will this be any good for the specimen 
 case, sir ? " he innocently asked. 
 
 The Duke did not answer for a few moments. 
 It was indeed hard to conceive what a moth 
 could have to do with the old admirals of 
 England. He simply closed the lid of the 
 box, made an entry in his imposition book, 
 and quietly invited Chops to call upon him 
 later in the day. 
 
 It was a fine piece of self-restraint, and I 
 am afraid we did not exercise the same con- 
 sideration when we cornered Chops soon after 
 the lesson. He made the most lidiculous 
 excuses, and said the moth was a valuable 
 specimen of its kind and was quite worth 
 preserving. Well, we let him off with a 
 severe warning on condition that he promised 
 not to disturb the next History lesson, for 
 we were most fearfully keen about seeing 
 what was inside that box. There were num- 
 erous speculations, and we all agreed that if 
 it had once belonged to a great admiral and 
 now belonged to the Duke, the only likely
 
 THE RELIC 43 
 
 way he could possess such a relic was by inheri- 
 tance, so we were more convinced than ever 
 that the Duke was some big person who had 
 taken to teaching for the purpose of hiding 
 his identity and getting away from the many 
 responsibilities which such a position would 
 entail. We all felt that the device of the 
 box had been so encouraging to him from 
 the manner in which it had kept our atten- 
 tion, that he would not fail to bring it in next 
 time. It was an unusual thing, perhaps, 
 for a master to show a class of boys some 
 family treasure, but we felt sure that the 
 Duke's intention was merely to awaken in 
 us an interest in our subject, and there was 
 no idea of conceit. In fact, he always gave 
 us the impression of being very sensitive about 
 speaking of things which concerned himself. 
 We were perfectly right in our supposi- 
 tion. He placed the box containing the 
 mysterious relic on the table, and after ex- 
 plaining that he did not wish to disappoint 
 us because of one boy, he began the lesson, 
 which was even more successful than the 
 previous one,
 
 44 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 Then the time arrived when our curiosity 
 was to be satisfied. I looked at Chops, 
 fearing that he might introduce some discon- 
 certing innovation, but he appeared to be 
 absorbed in the lesson and was intently 
 watching the box. 
 
 " I need not explain any further," the 
 Duke went on, as he lifted the lid, " but merely 
 show you this relic which has been handed 
 down through all these generations." 
 
 He looked down into the box, but drew back 
 with a sudden exclamation. 
 
 " Good Heavens ! " he exclaimed. "It is 
 gone." 
 
 I shall never forget his expression of utter 
 horror as he realized the obvious truth. For 
 whatever the relic might have been, it was 
 to him the most precious possession in all 
 the world. 
 
 " You must excuse me," he said in a hur- 
 ried way. " I must make inquiries." 
 
 Then, without further hesitation, he hurried 
 from the room and left us staring vacantly 
 at each other. 
 
 We were naturally a bit cut up, besides
 
 THE RELIC 45 
 
 being rather disappointed. Some of the 
 boys began to speculate as to the possibili- 
 ties to which such an unfortunate discovery 
 might lead. Chops was the only one who 
 didn't volunteer to offer any opinion. In 
 fact, he seemed a little disturbed. So when 
 the bell went, we filed out quite solemnly, 
 and it was not long before the Duke and his 
 relic was the chief topic of conversation. 
 
 I happened to pass quite close to the head- 
 master's study, and I caught a glimpse of the 
 Duke as he came out. He appeared to be 
 most horribly cut up, and half a minute later 
 we saw him hurry away towards the gate. 
 The affair was assuming serious proportions, 
 and several groups of boys were scattered 
 about the grounds discussing the incident. 
 
 When afternoon school was over, I got 
 permission to go out of bounds with Chops, 
 who had invited me to go for a stroll, as he 
 wanted to talk over the affair. He seemed 
 to be quite upset, and I wondered for the 
 moment if he could be connected in any way 
 with the box and its extraordinary contents. 
 He was very quiet as we walked along, which
 
 46 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 was quite contrary to his usual disposition. 
 I made a few irrelevant remarks, which did 
 not produce much response. We went on 
 for some distance until we came to a large 
 sheet of water ; and we sat down on the grass 
 beside it. Somehow or other I felt distinctly 
 depressed, for I knew perfectly well now that 
 Chops was going to unburden his sorrow to 
 
 me. 
 ft 
 
 Unfortunate business," he at length said. 
 " I wonder where he was going when he 
 hurried away." 
 
 I ventured to suggest that he was on his 
 way to the detective station to report the 
 matter. 
 
 Chops did not answer, but threw a few 
 pebbles into the still water, but I could easily 
 see that he was decidedly concerned at my 
 reply. 
 
 We sat there for a long time absorbed in 
 our own thoughts. I looked across at him 
 once or twice, and noticed the firm, set expres- 
 sion of his face as he gazed vacantly into the 
 water. He at length broke the silence with a 
 rather astonishing question.
 
 THE RELIC 47 
 
 " Would you like to see something ? " 
 he asked quietly. At the same time he put 
 his hand into his inside pocket, and drew out 
 some small article wrapped in long folds of 
 tissue paper. I gazed eagerly as he slowly 
 unfolded it. A sudden thought flashed across 
 my mind that perhaps it was the relic. 
 
 " Look here," he said ; and he held up to 
 my gaze a small gold trinket shaped in the 
 form of an old Spanish galleon. It was a 
 perfect piece of work, and there was an in- 
 scription in tiny writing at the bottom and 
 the name of a great English admiral, which I 
 shall not mention for reasons which will be 
 understood before this story is ended. We 
 gazed at the relic silently and almost rever- 
 ently for a considerable time, when I sud- 
 denly realized that Chops had stolen it. I 
 suppose my utter surprise prevented me from 
 forming any clear idea of how to act. 
 
 ' Wrap it up again," I at length suggested. 
 
 " Yes, better do that," he slowly replied, 
 but at the same time I noticed that his voice 
 was not quite steady, " and then I shall toss 
 it in there."
 
 48 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 He motioned towards the water, while I 
 felt a strange sensation which was extremely 
 like fear, though there scarcely seemed any 
 real reason for that, but I pulled myself 
 together and tried to appear calm. 
 
 "Don't be a jolly ass," I said. "You 
 must take it back at once. Why on earth did 
 you take it ? " 
 
 " I didn't take it. I I " 
 
 And then, what do you think happened ? 
 I had never seen Chops do it before, but he 
 suddenly buried his face in his hands and 
 began to cry like a child. It was a horribly 
 awkward situation, and I scarcely knew what 
 to do. I thought of picking up the relic 
 and rushing back to school with it, but some- 
 how a feeling of pity overcame me, and I put 
 my hand on his shoulder. 
 
 " I say, cheer up ! Tell me why you did it, 
 old fellow," I said. 
 
 He didn't reply, but went on weeping and 
 shaking like an aspen leaf until I thought he 
 would never stop. 
 
 " Look here," I continued, for I suppose I 
 felt roused up owing to the seriousness of the
 
 THE RELIC 49 
 
 affair, and the idea of the detective further 
 suggested itself. " The only way to fix up 
 this style of business is to pull yourself to- 
 gether and put matters right at once." 
 
 This remark, much to my relief, had the 
 effect of bringing forth a response. 
 
 " I didn't m-mean to take it," he stuttered. 
 " I m-meant to hide it in the room, but I 
 heard him coming and I put it in my pocket 
 with the moth which I meant to put in its 
 place, but I hadn't time." 
 
 " Well," I answered, relieved beyond ex- 
 pression by this explanation, " let's find the 
 Duke at once, before anything else happens. 
 It's the only way." 
 
 Now Chops was a really fine fellow, but 
 to realize this it was quite necessary to under- 
 stand him. I must admit that I was scarcely 
 able to appreciate the humour of his action, 
 nor could I understand what satisfaction he 
 could possibly gain from committing the 
 unpardonable offence of entering a master's 
 study for such a nonsensical purpose, but no 
 doubt it was his insatiable appetite for mis- 
 chief, which was with him almost a passion.
 
 50 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 But, in spite of evidence to the contrary, he 
 had the saving grace of common sense, which 
 allowed him to listen to reason, and that is 
 exactly why he didn't throw the relic into 
 the water, but immediately pulled himself 
 together, as I had suggested, and went back 
 with me to find the Duke. 
 
 He had fortunately returned to his study 
 in our absence, and though I must admit I 
 felt in a bit of a funk, my feelings, I am sure, 
 could not be compared with those experienced 
 by Chops as he knocked at the study-door. 
 
 We entered and approached the table where 
 the Duke was hurriedly writing. He seemed 
 so intent upon what he was doing that he 
 didn't even look up, but merely said, " Well ? " 
 
 Chops put the relic on the table beside him, 
 but he still continued to write as if his very 
 existence depended upon it. After a short 
 interval he repeated his former question by a 
 somewhat louder, " Well ? " 
 
 " I have brought you this," began Chops, 
 in a fairly steady voice, considering the 
 circumstances. " I took it with the inten- 
 tion "
 
 THE RELIC 51 
 
 i 
 
 . I suppose the Duke was too engrossed upon 
 what he was doing to pay any attention to 
 outside details, for he still continued to write 
 with a rapidity which was perfectly astound- 
 ing. I noticed on the piece of paper before 
 him a sketch of the relic, and I was quite 
 sure then that he was drawing up a full des- 
 cription of his lost treasure for the detective 
 office. 
 
 " Sir," continued Chops, for it was quite 
 clear that the situation was becoming ex- 
 tremely embarrassing ; "I have brought you 
 the relic." 
 
 "Great Heavens!" exclaimed the Duke, 
 with the same overwhelming emphasis that he 
 had expressed in class. " My boy ! " he said, 
 clasping, at the same time, the treasure in one 
 hand and Chops' arm in the other. " My boy, 
 this is beyond my gratitude." 
 
 I thought Chops would begin his weeping 
 again, for it was a horrid strain even for me. 
 In fact, he did take out his handkerchief and 
 sniffle a bit ; but simply, I suppose, because 
 he was different from anybody else, he drew 
 closer to the Duke, who, of course, thought he
 
 52 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 was trying to sympathize with him, and went 
 on thanking him without cessation, while 
 Chops, at the same time, endeavoured to ex- 
 plain the whole affair. It was quite a long 
 time before the Duke understood, and then 
 he listened with a blank astonishment. It 
 seemed quite contrary to human nature, but 
 when the explanation was finished, he leant 
 back in his chair and heaved a sigh of relief. 
 Then as he looked from one to the other, he 
 told us the whole story of the relic and made 
 us promise that we would never repeat what 
 he told us ; for there were reasons, he said, 
 which concerned himself. 
 
 There was no mention of punishment, for 
 perhaps he knew already what Chops had 
 been through, or it may be that he was able 
 to admire a manly admission of guilt. 
 
 As we went towards the door, I turned and 
 saw that he was gazing intently at the relic, 
 as if to him it was the most cherished posses- 
 sion in all the world. 
 
 We stood for some minutes in the corridor, 
 and Chops said something about feeling 
 jolly ashamed of himself. Then the bell
 
 THE RELIC 53 
 
 went for call-over, and we moved away to- 
 gether. 
 
 " Strange/' said Chops, " that we should 
 have called him the Duke!"
 
 The Rescue 
 
 THE men drew their horses under the 
 cover of the trees and watched the two 
 mounted troopers pass. The policemen were 
 both young men new chums in the Aus- 
 tralian service, and were on their way to the 
 Wolong gaol to relieve the men in charge. 
 The country was new to them, as was their 
 occupation, which, from their light-hearted 
 joking, seemed to appeal to them rather as a 
 novelty than otherwise. It was also their 
 first experience of relief work, and the mono- 
 tonous routine of a small country gaol would 
 no doubt serve to sober their spirits. It only 
 meant a month, but most of the police gener- 
 ally found that period of enforced idleness, 
 with the uninviting surroundings, rather 
 longer than they desired.
 
 58 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 The Wolong gaol was scarcely worthy of the 
 name, since it possessed only half-a-dozen cells, 
 a few wooden apartments, and an exercise 
 yard. It had only been built, in the first 
 place, as a temporary residence for enter- 
 prising bushrangers, but the responsible 
 officials were evidently of a conservative 
 temperament, for they had allowed the prison 
 to assume some pretence of permanence. 
 This was no doubt owing to the fact that it 
 lay in a locality convenient for bushranging, 
 and therefore often saved time. Anyhow, at 
 this particular period, it harboured a member 
 of a well-known gang of bushrangers who 
 had fairly recently disturbed the tranquillity 
 of the district. It was not far from the main 
 gold route, which was naturally an attractive 
 place for these alert people, who were, in these 
 early gold-digging days, at the height of their 
 prosperity. 
 
 So it may have been gathered that the two 
 men, who, on the approach of the troopers, 
 had concealed themselves in a place of van- 
 tage,* were followers of this risky, though 
 profitable, occupation. One^of them, indeed,
 
 THE RESCUE 59 
 
 was the most noteworthy bushranger of his 
 day, and his companion was generally to be 
 found in fairly close attendance. 
 
 " I say," said the elder man, after the 
 troopers were out of sight. " They look 
 pretty raw, don't they ? I fancy we won't 
 have much trouble in getting Harry out of 
 that gaol within twenty-four hours." 
 
 The younger man did not reply. In fact, 
 he rarely did in the presence of this man 
 whose word was law, and whose law was 
 generally according to his own convenience. 
 It was not worth any man attempting to 
 point out the error of his judgments, which 
 were strict and sometimes even cruel. It 
 was hard to conceive why he had taken to 
 bushranging, for he was one of those men who 
 would have forced himself to the front in 
 whatever sphere he might have chosen. This 
 man the Chief, as he was called was a 
 born leader. The pity was that he had not 
 directed his talents in a more reputable 
 direction. The other members of the gang 
 had put forward various opinions as regarded 
 his past life ; but the truth was, that none of
 
 60 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 them knew very much about him, since he 
 only associated with them when there was 
 some big business on hand, and when that 
 was complete, he disappeared into obscurity 
 until the next escapade. He communicated 
 with them, in their hiding place among the 
 mountain gullies, by means of the man who 
 now bore him company. 
 
 " How far is the hut from here ? " he asked, 
 turning to his companion. 
 
 " About five miles," was the reply. 
 
 " You say they will sleep there to-night ? " 
 
 " That is the usual custom," answered the 
 man. "It is too far to reach the Wolong 
 gaol to-night, and it is nearly dark already, so 
 they won't go further than the hut." 
 
 " Did you notice anything odd about those 
 young cubs, as they passed ? n asked the 
 Chief. 
 
 " They looked a bit raw. They might have 
 been a bit groggy too." 
 
 " Ah ! exactly," replied the Chief, as if he 
 had expected this answer. " They have 
 evidently been drinking fairly heavily. That 
 will suit our purpose admirably. I have got
 
 THE RESCUE 61 
 
 a little rum here, with an excellent drug added, 
 which will fix up our friends properly." 
 
 The bushranger nodded, as if he clearly 
 understood his chief's plan of campaign. 
 
 So they came out from among the trees and 
 rode on slowly after the two troopers. There 
 was little risk of their identity being dis- 
 covered, since it was not only almost dark, 
 but their persons were carefully disguised. 
 The Chief represented a somewhat dapper 
 squatter, while his companion was a very 
 unassuming labourer. They were both cer- 
 tainly mounted on excellent animals, but that 
 would not lead to suspicion. 
 
 They went on silently for some miles at a 
 walking pace, for they evidently did not wish 
 to reach the hut too soon. In fact, it was 
 quite two hours after the arrival of the troopers 
 that they rode up to the door and asked direc- 
 tions to some remote township which they 
 knew far better than the troopers, but it 
 served their purpose, and they were invited to 
 join the new chums in a game of cards and 
 to spend the night as their guests. After a 
 certain amount of assumed opposition, they
 
 62 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 consented to accept their hosts' meagre 
 hospitality. 
 
 It need not be described how the guests 
 very soon succeeded in captivating the hearts 
 of these raw policemen, who were so thor- 
 oughly entertained by the Chiefs conversa- 
 tion and anecdotes that they drank his health 
 with a flagrant disregard of moderation, and 
 at length found themselves in a state of torpor 
 which very soon grew into a resigned uncon- 
 sciousness. The rest of the proceedings were 
 quickly carried through. They simply com- 
 prised the handcuffing of the two troopers 
 with their own handcuffs, and the removal of 
 their revolvers. Before these little formalities 
 were performed, the outer clothing of the 
 unfortunate defenders of the law had been 
 removed, and the two bushrangers were now 
 engaged in donning themselves in the garb 
 of police officials, which was soon completed 
 to their satisfaction, and with a last look at 
 the slumbering new chums, they mounted 
 their horses, and leading their own, they set 
 out on their way to relieve the guard at the 
 Wolong gaol.
 
 THE RESCUE 63 
 
 Perhaps it is open to discussion whether it 
 
 was altogether a wise policy for those in 
 
 authority to depute young policemen to serve 
 
 their apprenticeship in relief work of such a 
 
 monotonous nature as the forming of a guard 
 
 at a very uninteresting place like the Wolong 
 
 gaol. There was certainly very little scope 
 
 for a man to show any aptitude or enterprise. 
 
 It was also a distinctly lazy existence, and was 
 
 therefore liable to r ;damp the ardour of the 
 
 more ambitious among their numbers. The 
 
 two men in charge naturally awaited the 
 
 relieving guard with a feeling of anticipation. 
 
 A month of this solitary routine work had 
 
 been quite long enough for them. So when 
 
 the morning dawned on which the guard 
 
 was due to arrive, they gazed at intervals 
 
 along the road to catch a first glimpse of 
 
 the troopers. When they at length made out, 
 
 in the far distance, the outline of the two 
 
 approaching horsemen, they heaved a sigh of 
 
 genuine satisfaction. It only remained for 
 
 them to hand over their papers, go through a 
 
 few preliminary formalities, and then they 
 
 would be free to report themselves at head-
 
 64 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 quarters with a successful record of one 
 month without disaster. Not that they feared 
 any disaster. The affairs of the gaol had 
 never been known to provide anything half so 
 exciting. That was quite outside the realms 
 of likelihood, and they were convinced in 
 their minds that a calamity was practically an 
 impossibility. But such things have been 
 known to occur when least expected, and 
 many a man's reputation has been ruined 
 because he has been slack and has not recog- 
 nized the perpetual necessity for vigilance. 
 Now these two troopers had counted upon 
 being replaced by two new men in the service, 
 and they were naturally somewhat surprised 
 to note that, though the newcomers were 
 dressed in the uniform of ordinary troopers, 
 the elder was apparently a man of some 
 authority. They listened to his explanation, 
 and they read with bitter disappointment the 
 counterfeit order, which, in perfectly clear 
 language, instructed them to remain at their 
 posts for two days longer, and that further 
 they were to hand over the young bushranger 
 in their charge to the safe keeping of the
 
 THE RESCUE 65 
 
 accompanying troopers, who were to escort 
 him to the headquarters of the district, where 
 he was to be tried on a further charge of 
 cattle duffing. Then followed the forged 
 signature of the Commissioner of Police. 
 
 The whole thing was quite clear and con- 
 clusive, and no shadow of suspicion in respect 
 to the authenticity of the instructions occurred 
 to the minds of these deeply disappointed 
 men. They took their bad fortune with 
 praiseworthy resignation, and after providing 
 their guests with a fairly sumptuous break- 
 fast, and having treated their horses in a 
 similar way, they made preparations for 
 handling over their charge to the care of 
 his escort. The prisoner was wise enough to 
 protest very forcibly against the infernal 
 laws which would not allow him to remain 
 longer in such comfortable residential quartets 
 as the Wolong gaol. 
 
 Of course the affair took some time to carry 
 through, and though there was no time to 
 waste, there was also the deep necessity of 
 showing no undue haste. The dejected 
 troopers quite naturally cursed their luck, 
 
 E
 
 66 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 and though they failed to understand clearly 
 why they could not have formed the escort, 
 the arguments of the senior trooper were 
 beyond dispute. In fact, he expressed such 
 genuine sympathy for them, and appeared to 
 be so thoroughly concerned about their hard 
 luck, that they were forced to conclude that 
 the lot of a trooper was not altogether enviable. 
 They listened, with deep interest, to the 
 description of similar unfortunate predica- 
 ments which the senior trooper had himself 
 experienced. He persuaded them it was a 
 dog's life not worth the candle, and he advised 
 them to complain to headquarters of their 
 treatment. In short, he had quite decided, 
 he explained, to make a .formal complaint 
 himself. He asked a few questions in an 
 undertone in reference to the character of the 
 prisoner, and after consoling them with the 
 fact that they were sure to be relieved in two 
 or three days, he mounted his horse. 
 
 So their drooping spirits gradually revived 
 as they stood at the door of their office, and 
 watched the escort, with the prisoner in the 
 middle, slowly vanish over the brow of the hill.
 
 THE RESCUE 67 
 
 As the elated bushrangers made their way 
 to their hiding place, they restrained their 
 natural inclination to crow over the success 
 that had so far attended their efforts. They 
 merely went through the details of their 
 future movements, and drew up in outline 
 the plans for their next undertaking. Then 
 the rescued man was quickly dressed in the 
 discarded clothes of the younger bushranger, 
 and after receiving instructions to join the 
 gang a month later, he made off, with the 
 intention of reaching, as soon as possible, 
 some place of safety, for they considered it 
 unwise for him to accompany them, especially 
 as they were still dressed as troopers. 
 
 They made their way for some hours along 
 the road, then turned sharply off across the 
 heavily timbered country, making a short 
 track for their distant hiding place, which 
 was still two days' journey. They had little 
 fear now of being discovered, for there were no 
 telephones to molest them, and they had a 
 start of at least two days. 
 
 They were riding exceptionally good horses, 
 but they had undergone a particularly severe
 
 test and it was advisable to rest for some 
 hours before proceeding any further. 
 
 When they had made themselves as com- 
 fortable as possible, and had lit their pipes, 
 they went over the eventsjof the last few hours. 
 They laughed long and loudly as they tried to 
 imagine the sensations which the two men at 
 the Wolong gaol would experience when they 
 discovered their mistake. But it is doubtful 
 whether their feelings would be as distressing 
 as those which were no doubt being felt by 
 the unfortunate occupants of the hut. By 
 this time they must have awakened from their 
 slumbers, and sufficiently recovered themselves 
 to take a more intelligent view of their sur- 
 roundings. It was most entertaining to specu- 
 late as to the degree of perplexity with which 
 they were regarding their predicament, for it 
 has been explained that they were only 
 partially dressed, and they also had the mis- 
 fortune to be attached to each other at the 
 wrists. Their horses had gone, and so had 
 nearly everything else, including their reputa- 
 tions. 
 
 The whole affair would naturally create a
 
 THE RESCUE 69 
 
 certain amount of excitement, and the police 
 would come in for their usual share of ridicule, 
 for this gang had many strange exploits to 
 their credit, and a big sum was offered for the 
 capture of the Chief, either dead or alive. He 
 was a highwayman certainly, but he was as 
 brave a man in his own dare-devil way as ever 
 bailed up Her jMajesty's mail. He was 
 meant for better things, it is true, but that is 
 another story. 
 
 It was a remote, almost inaccessible, place 
 to which these evasive people resorted. There 
 was only one approach, which was down a 
 long gorge with almost precipitous sides, along 
 which an old waterway had once traced its 
 course from the hazy mountains in the back- 
 ground. There was little risk of discovery 
 here, though they always kept a sharp look-out 
 in case of accidents. The large granite 
 boulders that almost barred their way could 
 only be passed by horses trained to the 
 work, and owing to the rocky formation, there 
 was little chance of tracks being followed. 
 
 The life within this retreat was as strict 
 and regular as that inside a military barracks.
 
 70 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 The watch was changed at regular intervals, 
 and the whole place was organized with the 
 closest observance of detail. Here they had 
 lived at various times under the "constant 
 
 k 
 
 martial law of the Chief, whom they feared 
 and honoured. It was a strange existence, 
 governed by their own special code of laws. 
 
 So it happened one evening it was just 
 dark that there was a sudden stir among 
 them, for they had heard horses coming down 
 the gorge. Each man ran to his allotted place, 
 from excessive care rather than the expecta- 
 tion of danger, for they expected the return 
 of the Chief at any time. They were men of 
 action, all of them men who generally 
 acted first and thought afterwards. So when 
 they caught sight, through the dusk, of two 
 peaked caps of mounted troopers appearing 
 above the boulders, there was only one thing 
 for them to do. 
 
 They waited in silent suspense for the right 
 moment. A man shouted something through 
 the dim light. It seemed a familiar voice, 
 but it was drowned by a loud report. 
 
 A^ain they heard it,
 
 THE RESCUE 71 
 
 " Don't shoot, men ; for Heaven's sake, 
 don't " 
 
 But the words were cut short by a full 
 volley, and for some seconds a white smoke 
 hung over them and hid the foremost horse, 
 as it reared and fell back with the rider be- 
 neath it, while the other galloped up the gorge 
 dragging the man by the stirrup. They 
 could hear the clatter of its hoofs gradually 
 dying away. Then they went forward and 
 knelt down beside the man, who was half 
 hidden beneath his dead horse. His cap had 
 fallen off, and lay on the ground beside him. 
 
 They gazed in dumb amazement. Then 
 one of them dragged him from beneath the 
 horse and supported his head. 
 
 " Harry's safe," they heard him mutter. 
 
 Then as the Chief felt back into their arms 
 they realized what they had done.
 
 THE SPY
 
 The Spy 
 
 COLONEL and Mrs. Halliday were sitting 
 together after dinner. It was a warm 
 evening, and a faint breeze was blowing 
 through the open window. The Colonel leant 
 back in his chair, and listened to his wife's 
 rapid flow of conversation. As he looked into 
 her foreign features, he wondered why it was 
 he had never learnt to trust her. She was 
 regarded by her friends as a clever woman, 
 but in spite of this fact, there was always that 
 suggestion that she was veiling her real 
 opinions and only exposing those which best 
 suited her purpose. She was a good talker 
 and amusing, and naturally had many 
 friends. 
 
 The Colonel, on the other hand, was a man 
 of few words, and when he did speak, he 
 
 Tf
 
 76 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 expressed his thoughts with such slow deliber- 
 ation that people in general had got the idea 
 that he was exceedingly dull. The fact 
 remained that he was a colonel, and occupied a 
 position of vast importance in the Australian 
 military forces, and probably possessed a 
 greater knowledge of the secrets of the defence 
 of the country than any other man. Further- 
 more, the authorities who had placed him in 
 this position of grave responsibility knew 
 exactly what they were doing. 
 
 Some anxious people had been bold enough 
 to suggest to the Colonel that it would not be 
 wise of him to confide any of these military 
 secrets to his wife, for they pointed out that 
 if she returned to her own country, such 
 information would be of great value in case 
 of hostilities. But the Colonel generally 
 yawned in the very faces of these people and 
 appeared duller than ever, and they fell to 
 wondering how he could possibly be looked 
 upon as such a valuable officer. 
 
 He appeared, on this particular evening, 
 to be, as usual, quite charmed with his wife's 
 remarks, and she was unable to detect the
 
 THE SPY 77 
 
 slightest sign/ of "suspicion or anything else 
 except real affection. She at length arose 
 and walked across to the open window, for at 
 that moment the strains of a string band 
 floated through the still air. It was the 
 custom of these musicians to play outside the 
 window each evening at this hour. 
 
 Mrs. Halliday held back the curtain and sat 
 on the ledge of the window and gently beat 
 time with her foot, while the Colonel looked 
 across at her with that same remote, admiring 
 glance. 
 
 As she sat there apparently absorbed in the 
 music, she too was gazing intently at one of the 
 musicians, whose features, so strangely like 
 her own, suggested that he was of the same 
 nationality. 
 
 At length the foreigner came forward and 
 held out his hat. 
 
 " Any money for the musician ? ; * he 
 asked. 
 
 She held a coin above the hat, pausing 
 for a moment before she dropped it. She 
 uttered a few hurried words under her 
 breath.
 
 78 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 " You play very well," she continued aloud. 
 " You ought to play the dance music at the 
 Government House ball to-night." 
 
 " Ah ! " he replied in his peculiar foreign 
 way. " Will my lady be there ? " 
 
 She remained seated for a few minutes 
 watching the musicians walk down the drive. 
 Then she turned and resumed her seat and 
 took a few sips of her coffee. 
 
 " You know," she said at length, " I believe 
 I have seen that man before ; but where or 
 when I cannot think." 
 
 Her words, apparently so carelessly uttered, 
 were in reality a means of testing whether her 
 husband suspected her. But the Colonel did 
 not answer at once. To tell the truth, he was 
 somewhat amazed at the extraordinary ease 
 with which his wife juggled with her problem. 
 He knew perfectly well that she held no 
 doubt in her mind as to the identity of this 
 foreigner. Yet it would not do to allow her 
 to suspect that he doubted her. 
 
 " Yes, my dear," he began in his slow, 
 methodical way, as if he were endeavouring 
 to recall past events, " he's the chappie, you
 
 THE SPY 79 
 
 know, to whom you were so attentive when 
 I was stationed at the forts." 
 
 Mrs. Halliday gave a sudden start. The 
 answer was so unexpectedly exact that she 
 was unable to quite withhold her utter sur- 
 prise. She endeavoured, as well as she could, 
 to hide her genuine agitation. She won- 
 dered, in her momentary confusion, whether 
 she was quite right in not sharing the opinion 
 of her husband's fellow officers. 
 
 The Colonel leant back in his chair and 
 watched the smoke wreaths from his cigar 
 circle above him. 
 
 " Yes," he drawled, " he's that same chappie 
 that ran away with your affections. You 
 got my permission, you remember, to show 
 him every corner of the forts." 
 
 " Then he is indeed Monsieur Lesage, as 
 I suspected ? " 
 
 " He is the man who calls himself Monsieur 
 Lesage ; but his name, like a serpent's skin, 
 has a quaint way of changing but," he 
 added as an afterthought, " the serpent is 
 still there." 
 
 "He is disguised, then, you think ? "
 
 8o TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 " Exactly. On one occasion he is an 
 apparently innocent globe-trotter in a check 
 suit, a panama hat with a fly-net and a pair 
 of inevitable binoculars, and a guide-book, 
 looking as silly as the rest of them. Next 
 you find him as a musician. You will no 
 doubt discover him in another guise before 
 very long." 
 
 Mrs. Halliday remained silent. A con- 
 fused succession of thoughts flashed across 
 her mind. Her husband had known all the 
 time that this foreigner had appeared in these 
 disguises for the sole purpose of gaining from 
 her the latest information concerning the de- 
 fences of the country. He knew that this 
 man was a spy in the pay of his country. In 
 spite of this, he had withheld nothing from 
 her, knowing that all his confidences were 
 passed on to this man. Was he quite in- 
 different or was he merely dull ? Some- 
 times she thought he was both. Sometimes 
 she thought he was neither. 
 
 The Colonel at length looked at his watch. 
 
 " Come," he said, " we must get ready for 
 this deuced ball or we shall be late."
 
 THE SPY 81 
 
 They both rose. 
 
 " Why/' she asked as a final question, 
 " why do you not have him arrested if you 
 suspect him of being a spy ? ' 
 
 " That," he replied, " is a matter which 
 concerns me in my official capacity. Besides, 
 I think it is of infinite importance that for the 
 present this gentleman who has so persist- 
 ently drawn from you my little confidences 
 should remain at large." 
 
 Then it was that Mrs. Halliday first realized 
 that her countryman must be warned of the 
 risk he was running, for it was clear he was 
 suspected by her very bewildering husband 
 of being a spy. But why the Colonel acted 
 with such apparent disregard of his respon- 
 sibilities was quite beyond her conception. 
 It was only during the ^excitement and 
 gaiety of the ball that she was able, for a 
 short period, to draw her mind away to other 
 thoughts. 
 
 It was a dazzling sight, for all the various 
 dignitaries attended in their official uniforms 
 the heads of the various departments, both 
 military and civil, the various consuls and 
 
 F
 
 82 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 such representatives as happened to be in 
 the country at the time. The Admiral of 
 the squadron was also present, together with 
 many officers. 
 
 Mrs. Halliday stood in an alcove of the ball- 
 room talking to an aide-de-camp. She had 
 just been dancing the lancers in the first set 
 and was now watching the various guests. 
 As they passed out of the room, she would 
 occasionally bow in response to her friends. 
 Whenever she recognized any stranger of 
 some distinction, she immediately asked her 
 companion for all particulars concerning the 
 person in question, and as it happened, the 
 aide-de-camp did not fail to be a very 
 fountain of information. 
 
 " And that funny little official over there ? " 
 she asked laughingly, indicating at the same 
 time a somewhat small man attired in the 
 dress of a foreign consul and appearing at 
 the same time to be embarrassed by a par- 
 ticularly large pair of spectacles. 
 
 " That man ? " Her informant hesitated 
 for the first time. " Must be a foreigner, 
 just arrived, I fancy. But never mind, he
 
 THE SPY 83 
 
 is alone and looks rather lost. Let me intro- 
 duce you. He will think I know who he is 
 and feel quite flattered." 
 
 So when this form of introduction was 
 successfully performed, the aide-de-camp 
 asked to be excused and left Mrs. Halliday 
 and the consul together. 
 
 " You know," he began, looking strangely 
 through his large glasses and endeavouring 
 to pay a feeble compliment, " as soon as I 
 perceived you, I desired to receive this happy 
 introduction." 
 
 It was perhaps not exactly a polite thing 
 to do, but Mrs. Halliday so far forgot herself 
 that she laughed outright. 
 
 " How excellent," she said, still laugh- 
 ing as she spoke ; " but my dear Monsieur 
 Lesage, do take off those horrid specta- 
 cles." 
 
 The spy shrugged his shoulders and ex- 
 tended his hands in a manner so typical of 
 his country. He tried to laugh, but only for a 
 moment. Then his features assumed a hard, 
 cunning expression which had the effect 
 of changing her frivolous attitude and of
 
 84 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 recalling the unpleasant sensations which 
 she had just dispelled. 
 
 " I have not much time to lose," he began, 
 speaking now in quick, somewhat excited 
 accents. " I have come here to-night at 
 great risk to speak with you for the last time, 
 for I shall leave this country at daybreak. I 
 must quit this building in a few minutes or 
 I shall be observed, for'you know I have no 
 business here. Let us move over to that 
 recess, for there is less fear of being ob- 
 served." 
 
 The ball-room was almost empty at the 
 moment, and as they went across together the 
 spy continued his hurried conversation. 
 
 " Tell me quickly," he demanded ; " that 
 infernal reserve ammunition where is it 
 kept ? I was unable to find out. The whole 
 success of my mission depends on that know- 
 ledge and think of what it means to our 
 country. Where do they keep it ? Quick ? >J 
 
 Mrs. Halliday tried to remain calm, to 
 collect her thoughts, for the subdued, but 
 intense, nervous excitement had confused her. 
 She realized the great significance of his
 
 THE SPY 85 
 
 persistent question ; the answer might, as 
 far as she knew, be the cause of the downfall 
 of her husband's country. Yet it was not 
 her country. Did she not belong to the same 
 nation as this man who so earnestly craved 
 for this information, which she could so 
 readily give him ? Was she not also to share 
 with him the reward which his country 
 offered ? 
 
 " Yes," continued the spy, noticing her 
 hesitation. " Some day I shall be famous, 
 and you will remember the part which you 
 played in our country's success and you will 
 have good reason to be well satisfied. But 
 quick that powder ? " 
 
 Then the woman, whose husband had been 
 so confiding, without knowing what she did, 
 poured out her information in every detail, 
 just as she had received it from her husband. 
 And all the time the spy drank in every word 
 she uttered with a feverish joy. 
 
 Then she stopped suddenly, realizing what 
 she had done. 
 
 The music broke out again and the dancers 
 returned in pairs to the ball-room. The spy,
 
 86 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 without any further word, bowed slightly and 
 with a smile of triumph, half-hidden behind 
 his dark spectacles, hurried from the room. 
 
 When Mrs. HaUiday found her husband, 
 perhaps ' it was only natural that she should 
 explain that she felt unwell and desired to 
 return home. The closed brougham, that 
 carried them at such an early hour on their 
 return journey, was a particularly snug 
 conveyance. The Colonel, noticing the pale- 
 ness of his wife's face, arranged the cushions 
 behind her head with the same finished care 
 that he had always exhibited towards her. 
 At ' frequent intervals he asked her with 
 anxious concern whether her head was better. 
 The excitement, he explained, must have 
 tired her. 
 
 " Well, my dear," he drawled, when she 
 had assured him that she felt better, " you 
 looked smarter than anybody, and I'm really 
 proud of you. But, I say, what a very ani- 
 mated conversation you had with that foreign 
 chappie who looked all the world like a birth- 
 day cracker. I mean that tourist, musician 
 chappie who stole your heart away and ab-
 
 THE SPY 87 
 
 sorbed all the little confidences that I so openly 
 reposed in you. What a deuced fine spy he 
 is!" 
 
 Mrs. Halliday looked round. She had 
 been somewhat startled, it is true, on several 
 occasions during the last few hours and had 
 almost ceased to evince much surprise in any- 
 thing. It was perfectly clear that this con- 
 fusing man had not only recognized the spy, 
 but had even seen her talking to him when she 
 had been quite sure that she was unobserved. 
 
 " My head is confused," she said. "'I 
 do not understand. I do not know what I 
 said." 
 
 " Ah ! You must not worry about it to- 
 night. You are not well. I can only guess 
 what you said." 
 
 Mrs. Halliday had never been guilty of 
 any extreme exhibition of feeling, for in her 
 husband's presence she always felt the 
 strange necessity of keeping calm . He seemed, 
 through all his apparent dullness, to be so 
 immensely quiet and strong. As the carriage 
 rattled on, she was able to gather her thoughts 
 together. On the one side, she had been
 
 88 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 false to the country of her adoption the 
 young nation that had scarcely put aside 
 its infant strength. Yet, on the other hand, 
 she had been loyal and brave on behalf of her 
 native home. But she could not go on with 
 this deception for ever. There was only one 
 man to whom she could possibly explain 
 her conduct. But this man her husband 
 how perplexing he always was ! She could 
 not help feeling, in spite of her own position, 
 a sensation of pity at the misplaced confidence 
 of this man whose almost childish trust she 
 had betrayed. There was, mingled with it all, 
 a weight of shame that prompted her at 
 length to decide to tell him the whole truth. 
 Perhaps she would be able to regain his con- 
 fidence. But there was just one more ques- 
 tion. 
 
 " How do you know," she asked, " that I 
 spoke with him to-night ? " 
 
 " Because I watched you all the evening. 
 I knew, and so did you, that our friend would 
 be at the ball." 
 
 " How was that ? " 
 
 " Because you practically invited him
 
 THE SPY 89 
 
 when he was playing in that string band 
 outside our window." 
 
 She did not reply. A former remark of the 
 Colonel's recurred to her mind " It is of 
 infinite importance that he should for the 
 present remain at large." What did that 
 mean ? Was there after all some hidden 
 method in her husband's procedure. 
 
 " So you have told him everything," went 
 on the Colonel at last, as if he had suddenly 
 been recalled to the subject under discussion. 
 
 " Yes, everything. And he leaves at day- 
 break to-morrow." 
 
 The Colonel whistled in apparent surprise. 
 
 " Then, my dear, you cannot alter what 
 you have said ? You cannot see him before 
 he leaves ? " 
 
 " I cannot see him again." And then she 
 added, as if the thought had thrust itself 
 forward " It was for my native country." 
 
 As she spoke there was a subdued emotion 
 in her voice. The Colonel was quick to 
 notice it. 
 
 " But do you not love my country ? the 
 land of your adoption."
 
 90 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 She looked round again and met the placid, 
 dull gaze of her husband whose secrets she 
 had sold. 
 
 " And you are sure it is too late to call him 
 back ? " he pleaded. 
 
 " I cannot call him back. It is too late. 
 He is gone with your secrets.".'- 
 
 " Then/' drawled the Colonel in his old 
 way, " what a deuced mess there will be ! 
 Those secrets which your amusing little 
 countryman has run away with, are, unfor- 
 tunately for his land, exactly the opposite to 
 the real truth." 
 
 " But," continued the Colonel, " pausing 
 to see the effect of his words, " we shall be 
 friends, won't we ? " 
 
 There was a long silence, broken only by the 
 rumbling of the wheels as the carriage entered 
 the drive. Mrs. Halliday at length spoke, 
 and as the Colonel took her hand in his, 
 he noticed that there were tears in her 
 eyes. 
 
 " Forgive me," she said, " I am so stupid. 
 I did not understand." 
 
 " My dear, you must not worry. You
 
 THE SPY 91 
 
 have been an immense assistance to me more 
 than you can imagine." 
 
 Then he lifted her hand to his lips and 
 kissed it.
 
 THE RISE OF THE SCHOOL
 
 The Rise of the School 
 
 VILNEY had been at the school for about 
 two years. At first he had made few 
 friends, for he appeared to regard everything 
 with such extreme seriousness, that most of 
 the fellows concluded that he was surly, and 
 it was some time before they discovered his 
 real worth. 
 
 To say the least of it, he was disappointed 
 with his school. Perhaps he had gained a 
 mistaken idea of school life from his father, 
 who was a soldier and had drilled into his son 
 the idea of the utmost necessity of being 
 efficient in all things. The school certainly 
 had a great reputation for work, but there 
 was no life outside the class-room. They 
 played cricket in a mild sort of way, but none 
 of the fellows knew much about the game and 
 most of them looked upjn it as a bore and
 
 96 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 generally managed to spend their spare time 
 swimming or making aeroplanes. So when 
 at length Vilney was elected captain of the 
 cricket eleven, he stammered through a kind 
 of speech in which he tried to make it clear 
 that he intended to lead them to victory 
 against the Spiders. 
 
 Now the Spiders, who had derived their 
 name from the extraordinary crest on their 
 cap, were their keen rivals and always beat 
 them badly in the annual match. They were 
 particularly noted for the number of good 
 cricketers they had produced, and they had 
 also managed to secure a Rhodes Scholar- 
 ship, which of course was a great distinction. 
 So Vilney's statement had the effect of draw- 
 ing forth a few cheers, and Linford, who was 
 the real swell of the school, condescended to 
 say " hear, hear " in a sort of ironical fashion, 
 for it seemed almost absurd to contemplate 
 victory against a team that was so absolutely 
 superior in all departments of the game. 
 
 Now Linford had up till now been regarded 
 as the leading light, and when Vilney was 
 elected captain over his head the fellows
 
 THE RISE OF THE SCHOOL 97 
 
 began to speculate as to the result of such a 
 choice. They knew of Vilney's keenness and 
 enthusiasm on behalf of the school and they 
 recognized in him a leader worth follow- 
 ing. 
 
 Perhaps it was only natural that Linford 
 should endeavour in an indirect manner to 
 draw away some of the leading boys who 
 showed some desire to fall in with Vilney's 
 plans of organization. As Linford was a good 
 fast bowler, he was invaluable to the team, 
 and he had generally managed to take most of 
 the wickets and he knew perfectly well that 
 he was a great strength to his side, though he 
 had never succeeded in proving very disas- 
 trous to the Spiders, who had been carefully 
 taught by an enthusiastic master to treat 
 fast bowling with a certain amount of con- 
 tempt. 
 
 Of course it was a fairly disheartening task, 
 especially as Vilney knew that Linford was 
 working against him. It was clear, however, 
 that he was making some headway and Lin- 
 ford noticed, with some envy, that the cricket 
 field was beginning to be patronized by boys
 
 98 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 who had previously regarded the state of dis- 
 organization with disgust, and they clearly 
 recognized the evidences of system which 
 were creeping in. In fact, Vilney had ar- 
 ranged a series of form matches as well as 
 regular net practice, and it really seemed that 
 some genuine enthusiasm was beginning to 
 awaken. But unfortunately the masters did 
 not display much interest in the school sport. 
 They were essentially men of work and con- 
 fined their attention to the class-rooms, where 
 their success was undoubted. So the games, 
 to a certain extent, had been allowed to run 
 wild. 
 
 There was, however, one master Mr. 
 Eldridge who might have been expected to 
 identify himself with the cricket. He was 
 a foremost cricketer himself, but he always 
 went off, directly after school, to practise 
 with his club. Some authorities had pro- 
 phesied a great future for him, for he was 
 quite young and had already established a 
 great reputation. The boys liked him and he 
 gave them the impression that he was parti- 
 cularly keen about the school's success, yet,
 
 THE RISE OF THE SCHOOL 99 
 
 in spite of this, he did not attempt to assist 
 where he was so competent to do so. 
 
 Now Vilney saw clearly that it was quite 
 impossible to gain very much success without 
 some good coaching, and the Spiders, with 
 their usual thoroughness, would continue to 
 inflict their regular overwhelming defeat. 
 
 It was the week before the match, and the 
 most surprising fact was that Linf ord appeared 
 quite keen and enthusiastic, as did several of 
 his followers who happened to be in the team. 
 They turned up to the final practice and 
 Vilney had visions of making a good fight 
 against the Spiders, when to his utter disgust, 
 Linford suddenly announced that he thought 
 the whole game was jolly rot, and that he 
 intended to go for a swim. He immediately 
 picked up his blazer, and was followed in this 
 action by the four other members of his suite, 
 who strolled off with him, leaving only half- 
 a-dozen to practise. 
 
 Most of the fellows thought that Vilney 
 would take some action. In fact, this ruse 
 had been arranged with the object of arousing 
 the captain's indignation, and when he merely
 
 ioo TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 ignored them and proceeded with the practice, 
 there was a feeling of surprise, for Vilney was 
 known to be ready to assert his authority 
 when the occasion demanded it. 
 
 But the surprise awaited the worthy quintet 
 the next day, when their names were found 
 to be omitted from the team to play against 
 the Spiders. 
 
 Of course there was a mild excitement over 
 the matter, and it was generally thought that 
 it would be ridiculous to meet the Spiders 
 without Linford, to say nothing of the other 
 four boys, who had been replaced by mere out- 
 siders. The Headmaster was informed of the 
 state of affairs, and he insisted upon their 
 inclusion, whereupon the remaining members 
 of the team refused to take part in the game. 
 There was an open defiance of authority, and 
 Vilney was regarded by the Headmaster as 
 being the cause of the unpleasant state of 
 affairs. He ordered the match to be can- 
 celled, and Linford had good reason to con- 
 sider that his object had been fairly satis- 
 factorily attained. 
 
 The Spiders were naturally rather indignant
 
 THE RISE OF THE SCHOOL 101 
 
 and attributed the refusal to play as a direct 
 indication of fear, and for weeks they hurled 
 rather unpleasant epithets at those who had 
 withdrawn in such an unsportmanlike man- 
 ner. 
 
 It was distinctly disappointing. It was 
 Vilney's first term as captain, and what had 
 promised to be so successful had turned out a 
 bitter failure, and all the time he was aware of 
 the satisfaction of Linford and his minions. 
 Yet there was a full year before the next 
 match. He would beat the Spiders some- 
 how, for it was his last chance of pulling the 
 School out of the position of reproach which 
 they seemed to him to occupy. He decided 
 to embark on a bold venture. He made his 
 way to Mr. Eldridge's room, where he found 
 the master enjoying his pipe. He was greeted 
 with the usual happy good-humour of the 
 sportsman, who assured him that his visit was 
 a genuine compliment. It was not long 
 before they were talking of cricket, and Mr. 
 Eldridge appeared quite interested. But he 
 always did appear interested, though that was 
 as far as he went. If Vilney could only per-
 
 102 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 suade him to come out to the nets regularly ! 
 But it would be hardly fair to ask that, since 
 it would interfere with his own chances of 
 success. Yet that was the school's only chance. 
 They might beat the Spiders after all. It 
 seemed, as Vilney spoke, that the master 
 caught something of his glow of enthusiasm. 
 
 " I tell you what," he said, " I would like 
 to beat these Spider people. I like your 
 enthusiasm, Vilney, and what you have done 
 for the school. You acted well over that un- 
 pleasant affair. Would you " then he 
 hesitated as if he were considering some great 
 matter, some matter which was perhaps far 
 greater than the boy was able to realize. 
 Yet this boy's sole interest was that of his 
 school an interest unselfish, and if it could 
 only be realized, an interest savouring of 
 grandness. " Would you," the master went 
 on, " like me to help you ? I think we could 
 beat the Spiders." 
 
 It seemed for a moment as if Vilney would 
 cry out with delight, then he suddenly 
 checked himself. 
 
 " But, sir, you have your own cricket, and
 
 THE RISE OF THE SCHOOL 103 
 
 that is more important to you. People 
 say that you have a chance " 
 
 " I think I would rather beat the Spiders," 
 interrupted the cricketer. " We shall start 
 to-morrow." 
 
 It is easy to understand that the interest 
 which Vilney had succeeded in arousing 
 had prepared the school for a further exhibi- 
 tion of activity when Mr. Eldridge took his 
 place as one of them in the field. The keen- 
 ness spread right through the school. At 
 first his time was spent in sorting out the 
 boys into sets according to their strength. 
 He chose out those who had previously been 
 regarded as duffers, and drafted them on to 
 his special coaching net. Every day he 
 was there. Every branch of the game was 
 taken in turn. At first few runs were made 
 in the practice games, but the team was 
 gradually showing a new strength, and one 
 day the master turned to Vilney, and, with 
 that quiet determination that had lately so 
 strongly asserted itself, he hinted that the 
 Spiders would sit up this time. 
 
 There was certainly a great awakening
 
 104 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 of enthusiasm on behalf of the old school, 
 and during the winter months which followed, 
 Vilney and Mr. Eldridge were often together. 
 In fact, a firm friendship had sprung up 
 between them, for were they not working 
 together with the one definite object of 
 placing the school on top where it had never 
 been before ? It was Vilney's last year, 
 and often he looked up at the support below 
 the cornice on the wall that had been made 
 years before to hold the cup that had never 
 rested there. Around the great room were 
 the names of past boys who had done honour 
 to the school in Scholarship. Yet that was 
 not all. They were not, as Vilney's father 
 had put it, " efficient in all things." They 
 had no Rhodes scholar a boy who was 
 both a scholar and a leader. In fact, after 
 their refusal to play, some of the Spiders 
 had called them " human tadpoles." Vilney 
 was broadminded enough to secretly acknow- 
 ledge the justice of this taunt, for he inwardly 
 admired the grand enthusiasm and affection 
 which their rivals had always shown for 
 their school. They at least seemed " eifici-
 
 THE RISE OF THE SCHOOL 105 
 
 ent in all things," and their pride in their 
 school was like the pride of an Englishman 
 in his country. It was not a mere hollow 
 loyalty that is so often aroused by outward 
 show, but it was the affection resulting 
 from hard discipline in work and play. In 
 regard to a country it goes by the name of 
 patriotism, but as applied to schools, it is 
 referred to by that quaint and often misused 
 name of esprit de corps. 
 
 So the time passed, and there were but a 
 few days again before the big match. Vilney 
 had informed the possible members of the 
 team that no one would be chosen who did 
 not carefully observe his instructions in 
 regard to regular practice. Perhaps it was 
 rather an indiscreet order, for it immediately 
 had the effect of causing Linford to absent 
 himself from practice the very next day. 
 He did not like this unnecessary authority, 
 and did not mean to conform to it. Now 
 this was a state of affairs much to be regretted, 
 for under Mr. Eldridge's coaching, Linford 
 had developed into a dangerous bowler. 
 The Spiders had previously played him
 
 106 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 without much difficulty, but he was a different 
 bowler now, and Mr. Eldridge had based his 
 chief hopes upon his bowling. Yet, on the 
 previous occasion, the master had supported 
 the captain's authority and he would surely 
 not fail to do so on this occasion, even though 
 it meant another defeat to the school, for 
 games were regarded by him as a means 
 towards an end, and not an end in themselves. 
 The other four boys who had previously 
 stood by Linford had not the opportunity 
 of disregarding these instructions, since their 
 qualifications were not now considered good 
 enough for a place in the team, so they had 
 merely satisfied themselves in using their 
 influence to persuade Linford to take this 
 step, for they knew his great value to the 
 side. 
 
 So when the list appeared and the name 
 of Linford was missing, there were faint 
 rumours of another break. In fact, a few 
 malcontents called a meeting in the sixth 
 form room and decided to signify their dis- 
 approval to the Headmaster, but on this 
 occasion they failed to meet with any response,
 
 THE RISE OF THE SCHOOL 107 
 
 for they had not considered the real power 
 behind the scenes, and apart from this, the 
 feeling of the school on such matters had 
 changed. 
 
 It is not necessary to describe the match 
 in detail. ' It need only be recorded that 
 for the first time in its history the School 
 went mad. It seemed that all that enthu- 
 siasm that lies stored up in every decent 
 boy's mind burst forth in all its full joy. 
 The game was close painfully close but 
 the Spiders' coach had made his first mis- 
 take ; he had counted upon playing against 
 the fast bowling of Linford, whereas, much 
 to his astonishment, he had been replaced 
 by a slow break bowler. There were six 
 wickets to fall and only fifty runs to make 
 when he went on to bowl. The Spiders 
 were capable of making four or five times 
 that number, and they had no fears. It was 
 during this short hour that the_School went 
 mad. Mr. Eldridge stood aside and watched. 
 Five runs to make and one wicket to fall. 
 The last batsman was in. The slow bowler 
 took up the ball. The first and second
 
 io8 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 were played, quietly. Then there was a 
 loud " o-oh," for the next ball had just 
 missed the off stump, but the subdued murmur 
 of excitement had just died away when 
 there was a great shout from the Spiders 
 a mighty hit and the ball flew into the 
 long field. Surely it would clear the boun- 
 dary on the full, and the Spiders would win 
 the match. On it flew as if borne on wings, 
 then it seemed to hang back. A fieldsman 
 dashed along within a few yards of the 
 boundary. It was Vilney. Could he reach 
 it ? He jumped with outstretched arm. 
 The whole school rose to its feet. A wild 
 roar broke out. The school had won its 
 first match. 
 
 It was a great game and a grand win, 
 and when the excitement had somewhat 
 moderated and the Spiders were driving 
 away, they stood up in their drag and gave 
 three ringing cheers for the school. 
 
 At muster next day, the Headmaster, 
 who had grown old in the service of the 
 school, made some reference to the match. 
 He said that he was unable to quite appre-
 
 THE RISE OF THE SCHOOL 109 
 
 date the wild scene of the previous day, 
 but he supposed it was a good thing, and 
 he imagined they would regain their normal 
 state of mind in the course of time, and 
 realize that they came to school to work. 
 
 Without any further ceremony he asked 
 the captain of the eleven to come forward 
 and place the cup on the support which 
 was apparently intended for its reception. 
 
 As Vilney walked forward, the senior 
 prefect called for three cheers for the school. 
 It was the first time that a prefect had taken 
 such a bold step, yet the old building shook 
 with the swinging response, and as Vilney 
 put the cup in position the cheers broke out 
 again, for some one had called for three 
 cheers for Vilney, and the voice that had 
 called for them was the same one that two 
 years before had called " hear, hear," when 
 Vilney had promised to beat the Spiders 
 it was the voice of Linford and as the cheers 
 rang through the building and among the 
 rafters overhead, Vilney knew for the first 
 time the sensation of triumph. As he made 
 his way out of the room, his hand was clasped
 
 no TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 by many, but a longer grasp and a firmer 
 one was the hand-clasp of Linford. For a 
 moment they stood together, and several of 
 the senior boys knew the significance of the 
 action. 
 
 " Good old School," said Linford, as they 
 passed out together. 
 
 That evening it was almost the last 
 night of the term Vilney sat alone in the 
 big school-room. Somehow he wanted to 
 be there alone, for in a few days he would 
 have to leave it all. His eyes scanned the 
 long line of scholarships that the school had 
 won it was a grand record but he wished 
 his name had been there. Then his eyes 
 wandered to the cup, and he knew he had 
 done something for his school. He wished 
 he could come back for another year and 
 win one of those scholarships, for he was 
 still young. Then a sudden thought came 
 into his mind that for a moment seemed to 
 blot out his own feelings of regret. Was 
 it he alone who had put that cup up there, 
 and roused the dormant spirit of the school 
 and made them one in pride and loyalty ?
 
 THE RISE OF THE SCHOOL in 
 
 He rose, and made his way to Mr. Eldridge's 
 room. He was sitting there reading a sport- 
 ing paper. There was a list of names in 
 front of him, and his was not among them. 
 
 He looked up when Vilney entered. The 
 captain approached his chair. 
 
 " I want to thank you, sir, for what you 
 have done." 
 
 The master rose and put out his hand, 
 and merely laughed in his good-humoured 
 way. 
 
 " It wasn't much," he said. " It was 
 you who did it all. But there is a change in 
 the old school, isn't there ? >: 
 
 The master paused and quietly filled his 
 pipe. 
 
 " I wish I wasn't leaving," said Vilney. 
 " I would like to come back and help to 
 prevent the Spiders from winning back that 
 cup besides, I would like to have my name 
 on the honour list." 
 
 Mr. Eldridge looked across at the boy 
 who had done so much for his school, and 
 noted his genuine tone of regret. 
 
 " I say," he began, apparently ignoring
 
 H2 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 the boy's depression, " I want to tell you 
 something, but you must not mention it 
 yet, for it is of grave importance to the 
 school. The Headmaster, owing to his old 
 age, has resigned, and we shall feel his loss 
 immensely." 
 
 Vilney did not make any remark. His 
 mind went back over the years he had spent 
 under his tuition, and he knew the great 
 ability of the man and the loss he would be ; 
 but he knew, too, as all the boys did, that 
 he had never really entered into the real 
 life of the school, and they had not thoroughly 
 understood him. 
 
 " I am sorry," said Vilney at length ; 
 " I think the fellows will miss him." 
 
 Mr. Eldridge, contrary to his usual manner, 
 looked almost serious. 
 
 " You will not mind," he began, ''if I 
 surprise you still further. I believe the 
 announcement that I have been appointed 
 to succeed him will be made to-morrow." 
 
 With a sudden, impulsive delight, Vilney 
 expressed his congratulations. 
 
 " I wish I could be with you," he ended.
 
 THE RISE OF THE SCHOOL 113 
 
 " I have seen your father, and he wants 
 you to come back to work for an entrance 
 to the military college. I want you to be 
 my senior prefect. We have a great work 
 before us, for our standard must not drop." 
 
 Then he laughed in his old way. " And 
 there are the Spiders, too you know."
 
 THE RING
 
 The Ring 
 
 THE " young boss/* as the station hands 
 called him, was perhaps hardly old 
 enough for the position. He was also rather 
 delicate, but he seemed to overcome this 
 by a stubborn courage. His father had 
 died a year before and left him sole owner 
 of this large cattle station in the far north- 
 east. It was a wild, thickly- wooded country, 
 and had been in its earlier days a retreat 
 a kind of trysting-place of several gangs of 
 bushrangers. In fact, it was altogether a 
 romantic place, as far as romance goes in 
 this young land, and the jagged range in 
 the background had not only harboured 
 those who had wished to evade the grip of 
 the law, but others who had wandered into 
 the recesses of its dark gulHes and been lost. 
 In this long, jagged outline of mountain, 
 
 117
 
 n8 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 there is one peak that towers above all 
 others, andj bears to this day the peculiar 
 name of " The Ring." 
 
 This peak had become famous far and 
 wide, through the daring exploit of the 
 boy's father, who had sworn that he would 
 climb to the summit of that peak, simply 
 because some man had been fool enough to 
 dare him to do it. As a proof of his attain- 
 ment, he had left there his young wife's 
 wedding ring fastened to the uppermost 
 tree by her golden necklace. There it had 
 rested, undisturbed by the hand of man, 
 and the towering heights threw out their 
 silent challenge across the wild country-side 
 to any man whose foolhardiness might be 
 as great as his daring. And ever since that 
 day the peak had been known as " The 
 Ring," and no man had sought to reach it. 
 
 The " young boss," as he was riding on 
 the outskirts of the run, drew rein and gazed 
 for a long time, as he had often done before, 
 at the far peak. His delicate, handsome 
 face was set with a determined, though 
 despairing, expression. Determined because
 
 THE RING 119 
 
 of his decided purpose, and despairing because 
 he knew that his bodily strength was scarcely 
 great enough to undertake the duties that 
 had so early fallen to his lot. 
 
 As he sat there in his saddle, contemplating 
 the peak, he went over the story of his 
 father's daring exploit, and the solemn 
 mountains seemed only to taunt him with 
 their challenge. Surely he was the person 
 of all others who was especially counted 
 upon to regain that ring and thereby save 
 the reputation of the district and perpetuate 
 the memory of his father. Why were his 
 limbs not firm and massive like his father's ? 
 Yet he had courage and a great will. He 
 knew of men in history who had performed 
 great deeds of valour under circumstances 
 which demanded a physical endurance which 
 had seemed at first beyond their power. 
 But this was not a deed of valour. It was 
 a senseless folly that no sane man should 
 contemplate. Yet his father had done it, 
 why shouldn't he do it ? But, after all, 
 what would be the good of it ? Such like 
 conflicting thoughts passed rapidly through
 
 120 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 his mind, and with a sigh he turned his 
 horse's head towards home. 
 
 He had not gone far when, to his surprise, 
 he heard the sound of a horse approaching 
 through the trees. He was many miles 
 from the homestead, on a part of the station 
 which was rarely visited owing to the rough 
 nature of the country. Perhaps it was the 
 boundary-rider, he thought, who had gone 
 further than usual from his path. There 
 would be no reason, surely, for any other 
 person to ride so far from home, and little 
 reason indeed for a boundary-rider, since 
 no cattle ever roamed in these corners. In 
 a few moments the horse came into view, 
 and seated in the saddle was, not the boun- 
 dary rider, but a girl about his own age. 
 She was the daughter of the neighbouring 
 squatter, and was one of those girls, so fre- 
 quently found in the far-away places of the 
 Australian bush, who spend the greater part 
 of their existence in the saddle. The two 
 had practically grown up together and were 
 free from all embarrassment which so fre- 
 quently attends a slight acquaintance. The
 
 THE RING 121 
 
 girl waved her whip as she caught sight of 
 her friend, and in a short time was riding 
 beside him. 
 
 " Why on earth are you riding out here ? " 
 asked the boy, somewhat roughly. " Don't 
 you know that men have been lost in these 
 parts ? " 
 
 The girl laughed, as she always did when 
 he spoke that way. 
 
 " Yes, I know. Men have been lost, but 
 girls haven't." 
 
 " That is simply because no girl but you 
 has ever been here. But, Gladys," he said, 
 speaking in a quieter tone, " why did you 
 come here ! " 
 
 " I came to find you. I was afraid 
 that " 
 
 The girl hesitated. 
 
 " Well ? " said the boy, noticing the pause. 
 " What were you afraid of ? " 
 
 " 1 thought that perhaps you might have 
 tried to go up there." 
 
 And she pointed with her whip to " The 
 Ring." 
 
 " And why not ? My father did,"
 
 122 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 " Yes, but you are different. You have 
 his pluck, I know. Everybody says that. 
 But you you are not strong enough." 
 
 The " young boss " did not answer. A 
 faint suggestion of disappointment came 
 into his face. Surely it was not a reproach 
 to be delicate, and yet people had said that 
 he possessed the pluck. 
 
 They rode on silently for some distance, 
 the boy aimlessly flicking off the sprays of 
 young gum with his stock-whip. 
 
 " Yes," continued the girl at length, not 
 knowing how keenly her companion felt the 
 meaning of her words. " Your father was 
 strong and full of courage. But the story 
 of ' The Ring ' must stay as it is, in memory 
 of him." 
 
 They fell back into silence again until 
 they reached the slip-rails where their ways 
 parted. The boy jumped down from his 
 horse and held the rails as the girl passed 
 through. Then he mounted his horse again. 
 
 " Good-bye," he said, " You mustn't ride 
 so far from home again. It is not safe. 
 You might be lost."
 
 THE RING 123 
 
 " And you ? " asked the girl. 
 
 He did not reply, but faced his horse's head 
 towards home, and turning in his saddle, 
 waved a farewell. 
 
 The days passed as usual on the station 
 with their perpetual monotony. The men 
 went about their tasks unhampered by any 
 thought for the morrow, as is the custom 
 in these far-away, wild corners of the land, 
 where the subdued silence of the surroundings 
 finds response in the hearts of these people, 
 who care for little else save whether the 
 scudding clouds bring wind or rain. These 
 hard-handed labourers, whose pleasures are 
 few, live out their days in peaceful seclusion. 
 Day by day the stock-whip echoes down the 
 valleys as the men round up the colts or 
 belabour the thick-skinned bullock team 
 which has taught them patience. It is 
 altogether a strange, yet a grand existence. 
 It holds a secret fascination which these 
 lonely, silent men can never quite shake off, 
 even if they desired to do so. Some of them, 
 it is true, pay their yearly visit to the city 
 and spend all they have earned, and then
 
 124 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 return only to repeat the same thing year 
 by year. Some of them fall victims to the 
 vices of the city, and some to the confidence 
 men whose regular harvest they are. Yet 
 they return, having had their little fling, 
 and resume their daily routine, which never 
 seems to change. If, however, anything 
 unusual does occur, it is enlarged and magni- 
 fied to make gossip for the fireside. 
 
 So when it was mentioned in the men's 
 hut, that the young boss had not been seen 
 for two days, it only evoked a casual remark ; 
 but when on the third day the boundary- 
 rider announced that he had seen him making 
 towards the river about ten miles away, a 
 little speculation was gradually aroused, 
 which grew quite general when the men's 
 cook ventured the opinion that the " young 
 boss " had looked "a bit cut up " recently. 
 He thought the river might suggest an alter- 
 native to those who happened to be unfortu- 
 nate enough to be "a bit cut up." This 
 stout cook was looked upon by the others 
 as an authority on all matters upon which 
 he not infrequently expressed his opinion,
 
 THE RING 125 
 
 and he was consulted on all topics of impor- 
 tance as if he were a Greek oracle. He 
 quite succeeded in convincing his hearers, 
 after an intelligent contemplation of the 
 facts, that the " young boss " might quite 
 easily have been swept away, while endeavour- 
 ing to cross the river, which was in flood. 
 It was therefore decided that a search party 
 should be organized on the following day. 
 
 So it happened quite naturally that the 
 boundary-rider and the other station hands 
 ceased for some days to observe the elements 
 of the sky and joined in the search, and even 
 the speculative cook, unobserved by others, 
 mounted his hack and made off in the direc- 
 tion of the river, to endeavour to satisfy his 
 suspicions. 
 
 At evening the men returned to the hut 
 and compared notes, but nothing had been 
 discovered that would assist matters. They 
 sat round the fire to a late hour, trying to 
 realize the seriousness of the affair. There 
 certainly did seem one spark of hope, for 
 the boundary-rider had not yet returned ; 
 but when it was pointed out that he had
 
 126 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 taken provision for two days, their hopes 
 again fell, when they suddenly heard the 
 sound of two horses approaching. They 
 hurried outside to investigate, for the second 
 horse suggested possibilities. The moon had 
 risen, and they could distinguish the outline 
 of the approaching horses. There were two 
 of them certainly, but one was riderless. 
 As they came closer, the men recognized 
 that it was the " young boss's " horse which 
 the boundary rider was leading, and they 
 gathered round to hear the latest develop- 
 ment. The horse had been found wandering 
 about outside the bounds of the run, appar- 
 ently endeavouring to make its way back 
 to the homestead. 
 
 " So it weren't near the stream ? " inquired 
 the disappointed cook, whose speculations 
 up till now had been held in most favour. 
 
 "About two miles from the spring," the 
 wearied man answered. 
 
 The cook thrust his hands deep into his 
 pockets, and remained for some moments in 
 serious thought ; then he shrugged his shoul- 
 ders and led the way into the hut.
 
 THE RING 127 
 
 The boundary rider, as he devoured his meal 
 with a permissible sign of hunger, answered 
 in turn the questions that were hurriedly 
 asked. When at length he had fully satis- 
 fied his appetite, he put down his knife and 
 fork and somewhat startled his hearers with 
 a casual remark which he had up till now 
 withheld. 
 
 " But what do you think I saw ? " he 
 asked, as he slowly filled his pipe, waiting 
 before he proceeded until the curiosity of the 
 men was fully aroused. 
 
 " It was a strange sight in such a lonely 
 part," he continued, drawling out his words 
 as much as possible, in order to hold his 
 listeners in further suspense. " I saw that 
 young girl from yonder station. She was 
 alone outside the gully slip-rails, riding that 
 fierce black colt. She asked me where I had 
 found the ' young boss's ' horse, and pretty 
 nigh before I had time to touch my brim and 
 answer, she had whipped round like a flash 
 and careered off at a hand gallop. I watched 
 the young colt take the boulders like a stag, 
 and'all the tune she sat like a picture."
 
 128 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 In fact, the boundary rider had full reason 
 to admire the riding of the girl whom he 
 had found in that far corner of the run. He 
 would have had further reason to become 
 enthusiastic over her pluck, had he known 
 that for two full days she had searched the 
 gullies, and had even tethered her horse to 
 a young sapling, and made her way on foot 
 up the mountain side until a dizzy fear had 
 driven her back. When she met the boundary 
 rider a new idea occurred to her, and she rode 
 off as the admiring man had so graphically 
 described. 
 
 It was a lonely occupation for a solitary 
 girl to search for two full days and a night 
 with little to sustain her except her stubborn 
 pluck, which never faltered as she continued 
 to follow her firm resolution, in spite of 
 failure. Though her hopes had nearly left 
 her, she pushed on with a strength of purpose 
 that led her, as a kind of last resource, to 
 hurry along the gully. Now that she had 
 gained some clue, she felt more hopeful of 
 discovering the fate of her lifelong com- 
 panion. It was becoming dark, and she
 
 THE RING 129 
 
 knew that it would be necessary to give up 
 the search for the night and return home as 
 she had promised, when suddenly her despair 
 was first turned into joy, then as suddenly 
 changed to dread, for there before her, lying 
 beneath a tree with his head supported on the 
 trunk of a fallen fern, was the " young boss." 
 
 She drew rein as quickly as possible and 
 gazed at the prostrate figure, not daring for 
 the moment to venture further, lest she 
 should learn what she had till now only 
 feared. At length she dismounted, and let 
 the reins hang loosely on the horse's neck. 
 She walked quickly up to the boy, and knelt 
 down beside him. Was he only asleep ? 
 He was breathing quite steadily, though his 
 face was drawn through suffering and ex- 
 haustion. She put her hand on his shoulder 
 and tried to rouse him. 
 
 " Wake up," she cried. "I've been look- 
 ing for you for days." 
 
 The boy opened his eyes and looked around, 
 then he put out his hand to the empty flask 
 that lay beside him. 
 
 " Gladys," he began, speaking just as he
 
 130 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 had done some days before when he had met 
 her in these wild parts, " what are you doing 
 here ? Don't you know men have " 
 
 He stopped speaking, unable to recall the 
 events which had passed, for through sheer 
 weakness his mind was wandering and he 
 passed his hand across his forehead as if he 
 were trying to get rid of some dream. 
 
 " Get my horse, Gladys ; he's over there. 
 But no, my leg. It must be broken. I re- 
 member I tried to get up just now, and the 
 pain was dreadful. It made me feel dizzy. 
 But, Gladys," he went on, after a pause, 
 " what are you doing here ? " 
 
 The girl explained briefly, for she knew 
 that she must hurry back to the homestead 
 and summon help. She hurriedly took off 
 her rain-cloak, and made a support for his 
 injured leg. Then she produced from her 
 pocket some biscuits and a small bottle con- 
 taining tea, for she had come prepared for 
 emergencies. 
 
 After he had partaken of this refreshment, 
 he seemed to revive considerably, and listened 
 to the girl as she tried to reassure him and
 
 THEiRING 131 
 
 fortify his courage ; but he soon responded 
 so cheerfully that he directed her how to act. 
 He instructed her to hurry to the home station 
 and send out a buggy to convey him back. 
 
 " Go quickly, Gladys, for it is late, and it 
 is a long way. I shall be all right until the 
 morning." 
 
 It was already dark, and the girl realized 
 that it was necessary to carry out the instruc- 
 tions without delay. There was no sign of 
 distress on her part, for these girls of the 
 bush are used to hardship and think little of 
 it, though certainly this girl had been through 
 a time of great anxiety and strain. Yet her 
 courage was just the same, and she knew 
 how to act. 
 
 So the " young boss " lay there alone 
 through the long night, with the moon and 
 the stars flickering through the gum leaves 
 and casting weird shadows around him. 
 Sometimes he fell into a kind of faint, but 
 woke again with a sudden start. It was a 
 long wait and a painful one, but his courage 
 did not forsake him. Once when the pain 
 was less severe and his head was clearer, he
 
 132 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 put his hand into his pocket and drew out an 
 old weather-stained ring and a thin golden 
 chain. He looked at them steadily for a 
 few moments. 
 
 " It was my father's challenge," he said ; 
 " and Gladys will wear them on her wedding 
 day." 
 
 Then as the stars faded away and the mag- 
 pies warbled a welcome to the sun, he fell 
 into a light sleep. At length he opened his 
 eyes, for he heard the rumble of wheels.
 
 THE OTHER MAN
 
 The Other Man 
 
 THE doctor spent most of his time travel- 
 ling about the country districts of 
 Australia delivering public lectures upon his 
 experiences among the aborigines. He had 
 accompanied several expeditions into the 
 remote parts of North- Western Australia, 
 and had written a valuable book on the cus- 
 toms of the natives who still exist in that 
 part of the land in a fairly wild state. He 
 had received a good deal of notice owing to 
 his important work in this field of investiga- 
 tion, and his lectures had brought him into 
 some prominence. He generally met with a 
 public welcome from the hands of these good 
 country people, most of whom, it might be 
 mentioned, knew strangely little about the 
 original inhabitants of the land which they 
 have now appropriated ; so they received the 
 lectures with much appreciation, and no 
 
 135
 
 136 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 doubt the doctor appeared to them a most 
 important personage. In fact, the mayor 
 and councillors usually greeted him at the 
 station and drove him to the Town Hall, 
 where his health was drunk and his achieve- 
 ments greatly magnified by the loquacious 
 chairman. Of course, this was a very excel- 
 lent thing inasmuch as it drew attention to 
 him, and consequently enticed people to his 
 lectures. He could not help feeling, on these 
 ceremonious occasions, that he was scarcely 
 worthy of so much attention, but being 
 worldly wise he did not object. 
 
 Now it might be imagined that he fre- 
 quently met with some strange experiences 
 in these country towns. Though he had 
 been in some awkward situations among the 
 blacks, he had never been in quite such an 
 embarrassing position as that in which he 
 found himself on the occasion of one of these 
 visits. The fact is that he found himself in 
 gaol. It was really his own fault, but in case 
 he might be suspected of having committed 
 some crime, it would be as well to explain the 
 whole affair.
 
 THE OTHER MAN 137 
 
 He was engaged to give one of these lec- 
 tures in a fairly large mining centre which 
 he had not previously visited, and was there- 
 fore personally unknown. In order to reach 
 this township it was necessary for him to 
 travel nearly all day by train, and change 
 three times. At the last change he was 
 forced to travel on a narrow-gauge line in a 
 kind of miniature train consisting of two car- 
 riages and an engine which whistled at the 
 slightest provocation. As there was only one 
 passenger beside himself, they naturally chum- 
 med up. It happened that this new acquaint- 
 ance was an exceedingly unpleasant-looking 
 person, with a most uninviting mould of 
 countenance. He wore a heavy oilskin over- 
 coat and a dilapidated slouch hat, and ap- 
 parently carried no luggage. He spent most 
 of his time puffing bad tobacco smoke into 
 the doctor's face, and narrating to him his 
 whole history, as is the custom of these non- 
 descript people. He explained in a very 
 pathetic way, that he was returning to his 
 native town after an absence of several years. 
 During that time he had lost all his money,
 
 138 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 and his whole worldly belongings merely 
 consisted of the clothes in which he sat. He 
 was ashamed, he explained, to come among 
 his own people in such mean attire, for he 
 had left them a rich man. His story, which 
 was a very long one, so thoroughly impressed 
 the doctor, that he offered to allow him to 
 arrive in his overcoat and hat. The man 
 agreed to this, on condition that his good 
 Samaritan would don his musty oilskin and 
 hat. The doctor at first demurred, but his 
 companion was so emphatic that this ex- 
 change should be made, that he consented 
 to fall in with the idea. The man was pro- 
 fuse in his thanks, and promised to return the 
 property in the morning. He looked quite 
 decent in his new attire, while the doctor 
 suggested an impecunious tramp. At first 
 he regarded the affair as a joke, and was only 
 too pleased to help this fellow, whose story 
 he'believed to be perfectly genuine. He did 
 not suspect that he was assisting him to 
 assume a disguise in order to avoid recogni- 
 tion. For his part, he thought he would be 
 able to slip away unobserved to his hotel, for
 
 THE OTHER MAN 139 
 
 on this occasion he did not anticipate any 
 reception as it was late in the evening. 
 
 They chatted away, and time after time 
 the man expressed his extreme gratitude, 
 until the doctor was aware that they were 
 near their destination. He put his head out 
 of the window in order to examine the size 
 of the town, which he noticed was fairly 
 large. At the same time his companion 
 observed his benefactor's handbag in the 
 rack, and by way of acknowledgment he 
 quickly snatched it up and dropped it from 
 the window on the other side of the compart- 
 ment, intending, no doubt, to recover it 
 during the night. The doctor, much to his 
 concern, saw that quite a large number of 
 people were on the platform awaiting the 
 arrival of the train. His first desire was to 
 ask his companion to return his coat and hat, 
 but he recognized that the man's need was 
 greater than his own, so he decided, in the 
 few remaining minutes at his disposal, to 
 endeavour to avoid his welcomers. The train 
 drew slowly into the platform. He looked 
 round for his bag, but not seeing it, he ima-
 
 140 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 gined for the moment that he had left it in 
 the van with his other luggage, and before 
 the train had quite stopped he had bid a 
 hurried farewell to his grateful friend and 
 jumped from the carriage. He pulled his 
 dilapidated hat over his eyes and lounged 
 through the crowd. Much to his relief, they 
 took no notice of him ; for all their eyes were 
 fixed on the compartment where he had left 
 the man who was so unconsciously to play 
 his part. He noticed several of the leading 
 men make a move towards the door, and he 
 tried to imagine the blank astonishment 
 which his friend was no doubt experiencing. 
 The doctor, however, did not wish to wait ; 
 and he had not gone far on his way to the 
 hotel, when he heard three hearty cheers, 
 and looking round he could distinguish, 
 through the dim light, the figure of his late 
 companion seated in an open vehicle beside 
 the mayor. He was solemnly raising his 
 hat in response to the plaudits, and no doubt 
 wondering whether the whole thing was a 
 vast dream. He was at least sure that this 
 sudden elevation to fame was not due to any
 
 THE OTHER MAN 141 
 
 distinguished behaviour on his part, for he 
 knew that his success as a professional thief 
 and swindler, though it demanded much 
 knowledge and ability, was not the cause of 
 this outburst of approval. In fact, such is 
 the worth of fame, that he had received this 
 recognition merely because he wore the other 
 man's hat and coat. It was only natural in 
 this trying position that he should feel at 
 first a little embarrassment, and out of sheer 
 force of habit rather than of necessity his 
 hand sought his side pocket where he gener- 
 ally kept a revolver in case of accidents, but 
 he suddenly realized that he had left it in the 
 oilskin. 
 
 It was also a matter of some surprise to 
 the doctor when he accidentally discovered 
 this weapon in the depths of the coat. He 
 fingered it curiously for a few moments, and 
 then whistled, for the thing suggested numer- 
 ous possibilities. It was also at this time 
 that he began to have some suspicions in 
 regard to his bag, and for the first time he 
 doubted the respectability of his new ac- 
 quaintance. Observing that the vehicle was
 
 142 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 about to pass him, he drew back into the 
 shadow of a building from where he could 
 gain a clear view of the man's face, which 
 was set with a half-ludicrous, though deter- 
 mined expression, as if he intended to act his 
 part thoroughly, for he realized that some 
 unusual mistake had been made. The mayor 
 was talking volubly to him, and he was 
 nodding in response. In spite of the doctor's 
 own predicament, he could not help giving 
 way to a suppressed fit of laughter, for it was 
 decidedly entertaining to speculate as to 
 how the affair might develop. He saw the 
 vehicle, which was followed by others, turn 
 the corner, and then he decided to make his 
 way as unobtrusively as possible to his 
 hotel, where he would await developments. 
 He was still handling the revolver, when 
 to his utter astonishment he was suddenly 
 accosted by two policemen, one of whom 
 grasped the revolver. They said something 
 about arresting him in the name of the King, 
 and without heeding any protestations, they 
 insisted upon his accompanying them to the 
 police station, and threatened that they
 
 THE OTHER MAN 143 
 
 would place the handcuffs on him if he showed 
 any further resistance. Whenever he uttered 
 a word of explanation, they calmly informed 
 him that it would be as well to remain quiet, 
 as anything he said would be taken down as 
 evidence against him. He replied that he 
 didn't care a jot what they took down, and 
 he expressed some fairly strong sentiments 
 of protest. At length he realized his stupidity 
 in not understanding that it was a case of 
 mistaken identity, and he thenceforth sub- 
 mitted to the attentions of the over-zealous 
 constables and decided to enjoy the humour 
 of the situation. His thoughts naturally 
 wandered back to his companion of the rail- 
 way carriage, who was no doubt having his 
 health drunk by the mayor and councillors. 
 He wondered what this versatile individual 
 would say in returning thanks, and he could 
 not help regretting that the nature of his 
 own position would not permit of his hearing 
 that speech. He now knew fairly well why 
 the man had desired to hide his identity, and 
 as it was fairly dark, the constables could 
 scarcely be expected to recognize their mis-
 
 144 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 take. Their information was certainly rather 
 scanty, for they had merely received a wire 
 from another station with meagre particulars 
 of description, explaining that the swindler 
 was in the train. 
 
 The doctor was taken into the office of the 
 police station, where he underwent the indig- 
 nity of being searched for any incriminating 
 documents. They found an old clay pipe 
 which had been smelling in the fellow's 
 pocket. There was also half a plug of to- 
 bacco and a rusty knife. He further sub- 
 mitted to a lengthy cross-examination, from 
 which he gathered that he was accused of 
 uttering bogus cheques, whatever that meant. 
 He was again warned about committing him- 
 self, so he decided to remain silent. At 
 length he was deposited in a dingy cell, and 
 left to await developments. 
 
 He sat on an upturned box and thought 
 deeply upon his strange position. He was 
 perfectly sure his friend would be unable to 
 keep up the deception much longer, and would 
 take the first opportunity of making his escape. 
 The prospect of spending the night in the cell
 
 THE OTHER MAN 145 
 
 was not altogether attractive. The straw, 
 which constituted a bed, did not look inviting. 
 The waiting, too, was rather a dismal occupa- 
 tion, and for the first time he felt a genuine 
 pity for those whose misdeeds led them into 
 such a desolate shelter. He tried to imagine 
 himself a desperate criminal, and was quite 
 entertained by the sensations which passed 
 through his mind. It was certainly a novelty 
 to be suspected of forgery and similar occupa- 
 tions which appeared far too unromantic to 
 appeal to his sense of the heroic in crime. He 
 could not help feeling that it would have given 
 him more satisfaction if he had been charged 
 with robbery with violence, or some shooting 
 fracas which demanded some real enterprise. 
 Then he suddenly remembered that his audi- 
 ence would be waiting, and he thought of 
 calling to the constables for the purpose of en- 
 deavouring to explain the affair if he could suc- 
 ceed in making them listen, for it occurred to 
 him that the joke had gone about far enough. 
 It was not possible, owing to the thickness of 
 the walls and door, to make any noise which 
 would be heard, so he could only wait and
 
 146 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 hope that the mistake would soon be dis- 
 covered. He could not help feeling how re- 
 markably simple he had been, and the absence 
 of his bag was also a source of worry, for he 
 felt quite sure now that he had not put it in 
 the van, but he was unable to imagine how the 
 man could have hidden it so successfully, for 
 the possibility of the window did not suggest 
 itself. He was however convinced that the 
 man was an expert in criminal undertak- 
 ings. 
 
 After he had been engrossed in these medita- 
 tions for an hour or more, he was consider- 
 ably relieved to hear a loud scuffling, followed 
 by a series of most horrible oaths. Then a 
 door slammed, and in the next cell he could 
 just hear the stifled oaths of a man who had 
 apparently undergone some excessive physical 
 exertion, and he knew that he had a fellow 
 prisoner. 
 
 A few minutes later his cell door opened and 
 he was requested, in a very civil manner, to 
 step outside. He was escorted to the office 
 by one of the constables who had so recently 
 arrested him. He looked up at the clock and
 
 THE OTHER MAN 147 
 
 noticed that it was much earlier than he had 
 thought, and it was not yet quite time for the 
 lecture. On the table were his hat and coat, 
 and he knew what that meant. While one 
 of the men assisted him into his coat, he 
 explained how the exchange had been made. 
 The sergeant, in his turn, apologized with 
 many regrets for the gross mistake, but pointed 
 out that the particulars to hand were very 
 vague. He further explained that the utterer 
 of bogus cheques had created quite a sensa- 
 tion by his unusual behaviour. In fact, he 
 had partaken so freely of the hospitality of 
 his entertainers, that he had very soon become 
 wildly intoxicated, and his rambling and con- 
 fused remarks had led to his arrest. 
 
 "And," added the sergeant, by way of 
 smoothing matters, " the folks is jammed in 
 the 'all like bloomin* sardines waitin' for your 
 lecture." 
 
 It was indeed the most enthusiastic audi- 
 ence which the doctor had ever addressed. 
 Before he went on to the platform he was 
 able to explain to the mayor the details of the 
 affair, with the result that his worship opened
 
 148 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 the proceedings with a very lengthy explana- 
 tion in which he apologized on behalf of the 
 township for the misapplied zeal of the police, 
 and the misdeeds of the other man.
 
 KOOKABURRA
 
 Kookaburra 
 
 THE new master had arrived that day, 
 but the boys had only caught a glimpse 
 of him. They knew that he had recently 
 come from England and was " a double blue," 
 though they were not quite sure what that 
 was. 
 
 Of course the conditions were rather differ- 
 ent to an English school. In fact, the place 
 had never been intended for a school. It was 
 a fairly large sheep station in one of the best 
 sheep breeding districts in Australia, and as 
 far as that goes, in the world. The Head- 
 master, who was also the owner of the station, 
 left all his sheep affairs to his manager, and 
 concentrated his attention and energy upon 
 endeavouring to instil into his pupils the ele- 
 ments of a sound education. He was fairly 
 successful from a business point of view, as
 
 152 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 most of the fellows were boarders, except a 
 few who rode over from the neighbouring sta- 
 tions. It was altogether unlike other schools, 
 for the boys had their own ponies and far more 
 freedom than is usually allowed. The result 
 was that they were a fairly unruly lot. 
 
 They were naturally rather keen about the 
 new master, for there wasn't very much in the 
 year's work to break the fairly monotonous 
 routine. The only further information which 
 they could gather about him was from the 
 stable boy, who had driven him from the rail- 
 way station, which was about fifteen miles 
 away. This small person explained that he 
 " couldn't make the new gent out one bit." 
 
 That evening, when the boys were prepar- 
 ing their work for the next day, the Head- 
 master introduced him. He was rather a good- 
 looking man and was well built. He wore a 
 coat of a design which the fellows had never 
 seen before, though it represented the general 
 fashion in London. It tapered away to a 
 kind of blunt point at the back and made 
 him look rather like a laughing-jackass, though 
 the get-up was not unbecoming. However,
 
 KOOKABURRA 153 
 
 the Head evidently informed him of the 
 unsuitability of the coat for the country and 
 the next morning he appeared in a more 
 reasonable costume. 
 
 So from that day he was called Kookaburra, 
 which is the native name for laughing- jackass, 
 but in time the name was abbreviated to 
 Kooky. 
 
 The boys took a liking to him at once, 
 though they were a little perplexed at his 
 manner of speech, but this was probably 
 owing to the fact that most of them had lived 
 almost entirely in the country, and their 
 vocabulary had consequently become a little 
 restricted. For instance, he said that things 
 were " awfully jolly " when it was quite 
 ridiculous to suppose that anything could be 
 both awful and jolly at the same time. At 
 the end of his remarks he generally said 
 " don't you know ? " when it didn't affect 
 the question whether they knew or didn't 
 know. But they soon got used to these little 
 forms of speech, which are everyday expres- 
 sions to those who [ live in the centres of civil- 
 ization. He was exactly the sort of man they
 
 154 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 wanted. He could play cricket better than 
 any one in the district, and he soon made 
 fairly respectable bats of most of the boys. 
 They soon taught him their game of football, 
 which he said was " awfully jolly," though he 
 rather preferred Rugby. 
 
 There was only one thing they couldn't 
 teach him, and that was how to ride. He 
 used to bump about in the saddle in a shocking 
 way. Every time he touched the seat, which 
 was now and again, he seemed to quiver all 
 over. He did not appear to improve and 
 was alw%s complaining of feeling " awfully 
 stiff." 
 
 There was an old stock horse on the station, 
 and the boys thought it would be an excellent 
 animal for him to ride. Now, a stock horse 
 in Australia is quite a unique animal. Long 
 training and experience have taught it to use 
 its own judgment, with the result that it 
 doesn't pay much attention to the person on 
 its back, but follows the stock like a cattle 
 dog and turns whenever the cattle turn, even 
 if it be almost at right angles. 
 
 It was only natural, perhaps, that the fellows
 
 KOOKABURRA 155 
 
 should take advantage of Kooky's enthusiasm 
 and inexperience. So one day, when he was 
 out riding with them, they asked him to help 
 them round up a mob of cattle which were 
 feeding in the distance. He was only too 
 pleased to think that they considered that 
 he was capable of being of any assistance. 
 The result, however, was as they had expected, 
 for the old horse turned and doubled and per- 
 formed a series of such quaint evolutions 
 that the rabbiter, who happened to be passing 
 at the time, was discourteous enough to draw 
 rein and roar with laughter at the strange 
 manner in which the " new gent " manoeu- 
 vred his mount. There is nothing which 
 amuses these men so much as to see a raw 
 " towny " try to ride, and the rabbiter was 
 practically in a frenzy of delight, when, at a 
 particularly sharp turn, " the new gent " 
 shot from his saddle like a diver. 
 
 The fellows, of course, expressed their deep 
 sorrow and helped him to remove some of 
 the dirt, while all the time the old stock 
 horse stood placidly by and nibbled at the 
 grass.
 
 156 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 Kooky explained that he was "fearfully 
 sorry " to make such a poor show, and after 
 expressing the idea that the animal had a 
 back like a sword blade, he very pluckily 
 remounted. He kept a fairly firm hold of 
 the reins and steered clear of any cattle for 
 the rest of the ride. 
 
 Besides his adaptability, Kooky was an 
 excellent master and infused new zest into 
 the school work. He made the fellows under- 
 stand that it was just as desirable for a squat- 
 ter to be as well educated as anybody else, 
 and refused to accept that plea as an excuse 
 for loafing. The most peculiar fact about 
 him was that he always wanted to know about 
 Australia. He was particularly keen about 
 the stories of the early days, and he made the 
 boys feel quite proud of themselves when he 
 told them that they had a heritage which was 
 worth the name, for in the early days their 
 fathers had braved the unknown, and founded 
 those grand homes which are the just pride of 
 these squatters. The long, dreary plains 
 seemed to assume to them a new fascination. 
 On the one hand they were fringed by a line
 
 KOOKABURRA 157 
 
 of hills, while on the other there seemed no 
 boundary at all, except the fleecy cloud-line 
 that gathered there in the evening like a flock 
 of sheep waiting to be shorn. They had all 
 grown up on these plains and had drunk in 
 some of the romance that had been handed 
 down from father to son. They had heard of 
 corroborees and tribal feuds, and of the blacks 
 who had once owned the land, but have now 
 almost vanished out of creation. All these 
 things assumed a new light when Kooky came 
 among them. 
 
 But we must go on with our story. 
 
 Now, Kooky was out riding one day by 
 himself. It was a half-holiday, and he said 
 he felt more comfortable in the saddle when 
 he was alone, which was quite easy to imagine. 
 He had at last found an animal that exactly 
 suited his style of horsemanship. It was an 
 old mare that cantered along like a rocking 
 horse and was quite free from any vice. 
 
 It turned out that this old mare possessed 
 a sprightly young foal that usually followed 
 its mother whenever she went out. But on 
 this occasion Kooky had shut the young
 
 158 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 animal in the stock-yard, where it anxiously 
 awaited the return of its parent. 
 
 A brilliant idea occurred to the minds of 
 the boys. It was scarcely original, for they 
 had read of it in some magazine. It was a 
 fairly venturesome exploit, for though they 
 admired and liked Kooky immensely, they 
 also feared him very considerably. He had 
 taught them the use of discipline, however 
 many evidences there may appear to the con- 
 trary, and this escapade did not suggest 
 either respect or fear. 
 
 K Well, when they saw the young foal in the 
 stock-yard, the magazine story immediately 
 suggested itself, for the circumstances were 
 very similar, and the fellows thought they 
 would like to repeat the performance in real 
 life. They collected a number of miscel- 
 laneous garments and proceeded, in spite of 
 the foal's objections, to adorn it in these strange 
 vestments. They completed the toilet by 
 fixing a red sun-bonnet on its head, and it 
 looked exactly like an academic celebrity. 
 They were naturally exceedingly proud of 
 their handiwork and were filled with great
 
 KOOKABURRA 159 
 
 glee. As they waited patiently, they formed 
 many speculations as to the effect of their 
 enterprise, endeavouring at the same time to 
 blot out the possible consequence of their 
 behaviour. 
 
 At last they heard the clatter of the old 
 mare as she approached through a belt of 
 trees. The foal immediately pricked up its 
 ears and neighed, so the boys concluded that 
 the moment for action had arrived. As soon 
 as they let down the slip-rails, the impatient 
 animal gave a plunge, and kicking his heels 
 in the air, galloped off in the direction 
 of the approaching mare. They kept under 
 cover and watched the proceedings. The 
 foal did not seem in the least embarrassed by 
 his robes and galloped along like a young deer. 
 Though the maternal instinct is a powerful 
 trait of animal life, the old mare was quite un- 
 able to associate her foal with the gaudy 
 apparition that was so rapidly approaching. 
 She stood stock-still for a few seconds, then 
 whirling round with a swing that nearly dis- 
 placed Kooky, she made off at a furious pace. 
 Though the speed was rather fast for the foal, 

 
 i6o TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 she continued in close pursuit and cleared all 
 obstacles with a flying leap, while all the 
 time Kooky kept on changing his position 
 from the saddle to the neck of his mount, but 
 he managed to retain his hold with surprising 
 tenacity. It seemed for a time that he would 
 succeed in steadying the mare, when she again 
 caught sight of her pursuer and immediately 
 started off again with renewed vigour until 
 she disappeared behind the belt of trees. 
 
 Of course the fellows had enjoyed this part 
 of the performance with that wild abandon 
 of boyhood. When they had sufficiently 
 recovered to take a more placid view of the 
 affair, they realized for the first time that 
 they had placed themselves in rather an 
 awkward position. In fact, they felt par- 
 ticularly uncomfortable as they considered 
 the possible consequences. Though they were 
 fairly high spirited, as might be gathered, 
 they never failed to act decently when the 
 occasion demanded it. There was only one 
 thing for them to do, and that was to follow 
 up the chase and render what assistance 
 they could. They knew perfectly well that
 
 KOOKABURRA 161 
 
 there was no one to blame but themselves, 
 and Kooky was a somewhat difficult person 
 to deal with when there was any unpleasant 
 business to transact, as there surely was now. 
 
 So with rather subdued spirits they 
 followed up this cross-country pursuit. They 
 had just reached the belt of trees when they dis- 
 tingushed in the distance the two animals still 
 careering in hot haste ; but near to them, with- 
 in a stone's throw, was a different spectacle. 
 With sudden horror they stopped, for there, 
 huddled up in a black heap, was the form of 
 Kooky. They stood for a few moments in 
 blank dismay, hardly daring to inquire further. 
 Then two or three of them went forward. 
 They knelt down beside him. He was lying 
 on his face, but they turned him over. His 
 eyes were closed and an awful idea occurred 
 
 to them ; that perhaps But with a 
 
 relief that was beyond expression, they saw 
 him move and open his eyes. 
 
 " I'm all right," he said. " I'm jolly stiff, 
 that's all. Just help me up." 
 
 He put out his hand and the fellows helped 
 him to rise.
 
 162 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 " Thanks awfully," he said as they brushed 
 off the dirt and the other fellows came hurry- 
 ing up. 
 
 " Are you hurt, sir ? " they all inquired 
 with one accord. 
 
 " Not a bit," he answered. " Had an 
 awfully jolly ride. But what's that queer 
 concern in the gaudy vestments ? " 
 
 One of the boys took upon himself to ex- 
 plain. He did not attempt to hide anything. 
 In fact, he was almost painfully exact. The 
 other fellows punctuated his remarks by 
 saying that they were very sorry and hoped 
 he wasn't hurt, and faintly suggested that 
 he would let them off lightly, which was 
 scarcely a reasonable thing to expect. He 
 seated himself on a log and listened to the 
 explanation, with a half-serious, half-amused 
 expression, while all the time he mopped his 
 forehead and tried to regain his breath. 
 
 " Come here, you young brats," he said. 
 " Sit down." 
 
 They gathered round him expecting to hear 
 his decision, but as he spoke he seemed to 
 wince once or twice as if he were suffering
 
 KOOKABURRA 163 
 
 some pain. He at length asked one of them 
 to run down to the dam and wet his hand- 
 kerchief as he wanted to bind up his wrist, 
 which he said was "awfully painful." When 
 this was done and the cold bandage wound 
 round the swollen wrist, and carefully placed 
 in a sling, he quietly proceeded to announce 
 his decision. 
 
 " This is a serious business," he began, 
 assuming at the same time a severe demeanour. 
 " This performance of yours, except for 
 particularly good fortune and a certain 
 knowledge of horsemanship, might have had 
 a disastrous ending. I have managed to 
 get off with a sprained wrist and a bit of a 
 shaking. And how do you expect to escape ? ' ' 
 
 He looked round as if expecting an answer, 
 but the fellows only looked vacantly at each 
 other. 
 
 "Well, I'll tell you. I thought that I 
 had pretty well tamed you, but I find that I 
 have not quite subdued your wild inclina- 
 tions." 
 
 They felt now that all hope had gone, and as 
 he looked round the circle he seemed to be
 
 164 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 pondering over the drastic measures which he 
 evidently intended to take. He had always 
 had a strange way of giving punishments, 
 and the boys never quite knew what to 
 expect, but if they didn't accept their penalties 
 with a certain amount of cheerfulness he 
 generally doubled them. 
 
 " Do you know why I went out alone to- 
 day ? " he asked. 
 
 They replied that they had no idea, though 
 they all had a fairly good notion that he pre- 
 ferred to ride by himself ; but the question 
 did not seem to have any direct connexion 
 with their behaviour. They still awaited the 
 announcement of the punishment which was 
 beginning to assume, in their imaginations, 
 quite terrifying proportions. But whatever 
 their ideas of the impending punishment 
 might have been, they did not suggest the 
 real one, which was so unexpected in its 
 nature that they took some time before they 
 fully realized its meaning. 
 
 " Well," he continued, quite disregarding 
 their discomfort. " I went out to take a last 
 look at your delightful country. To-morrow
 
 KOOKABURRA 165 
 
 I must leave you all to return to England to 
 take charge of a house at my old school. I 
 shall miss you all very much, but I have had a 
 jolly time among you." 
 
 Such was the punishment that he pro- 
 nounced upon them, and there was not one 
 who did not feel the bitterness of it, for they 
 had grown fond of this man who had done so 
 much for them. 
 
 " Let's go back to the house," he at length 
 continued. " There's to be a little banquet 
 in my honour, don't you know. But," he 
 went on, rising from the log and resting his 
 free arm on one of the boy's shoulders, 
 while a suggestion of sorrow came into his 
 voice, " I'm awfully sorry we have to part." 
 
 Then strange to say, just at that moment a 
 laughing- jackass began to laugh from a tree 
 overhead, and all the fellows laughed too, 
 though their hearts were sad, and so did 
 Kooky. 
 
 " Yes," he said ; " what a jolly old bird 
 the Kookaburra is." 
 
 " Yes," repeated one of the fellows, "and 
 a jolly fine bird too."
 
 THE SWAGMAN
 
 The Swagman 
 
 THE proprietor of the Swagman' s Arms 
 had already informed Winstone, in 
 quite a confidential manner, that the room 
 in which he sat was the smoking-room. The 
 last boarder had refused to accept it as such, 
 and had gone on to the next township. The 
 proprietor was evidently afraid that Winstone 
 might do likewise, but as it was necessary for 
 him to spend a few days in this deserted 
 locality, he decided to make the best of his 
 surroundings. He assured his landlord, out 
 of sheer courtesy, that he quite understood it 
 was the smoking-room, though in truth, the 
 only indication of the fact was a broken 
 spittoon and a very prevalent odour of 
 tobacco. 
 
 ' Thought you might think it was the 
 drawin'-room, and not like to smoke," he 
 said, and he pointed with the stem of his
 
 170 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 pipe through an open door leading into the 
 bar, which was dimly lit by a kerosene lamp 
 hanging from the ceiling. 
 
 " Customers only come at the end of the 
 week. Pay-day then, and I reap my 'arvest." 
 
 Winstone felt exceedingly glad it was not 
 the end of the week, though he thought it 
 was only courtesy on his part to condole with 
 his host, and he was expressing his sympathy 
 on the lack of mid-week visitors, when a 
 swagman entered the bar, followed by a half- 
 starved sheep-dog. The proprietor rose slow- 
 ly from his seat, as if it were a condescension 
 on his part to attend to customers, and lounged 
 towards the counter. 
 
 The Swagman ordered his drink and made 
 some remark about the possibility of rain, 
 though there wasn't a cloud in the sky. 
 He then tossed it off with a gulp, and throw- 
 ing the dregs on the floor, proceeded to fill 
 his clay pipe. 
 
 " Crops looking pretty well," he volunteered, 
 but the proprietor did not seem in a con- 
 versational mood, for he merely nodded 
 and spat on the floor.
 
 THE SWAGMAN 171 
 
 Much to Winstone's disgust, the Swagman 
 looked up, and catching sight of him through 
 the door, and evidently considering that his 
 companion was not a conversationalist, he 
 immediately entered the room and sat down 
 in the chair which the proprietor had just 
 vacated. The lamp threw a flickering light 
 on his face, which was tanned and wrinkled. 
 
 " Staying in these parts ? " he inquired. 
 
 Winstone informed him that his business 
 made it necessary for him to spend a few 
 days in the township. 
 
 " Can't see what business a fellow can do 
 in this desolate hole/'' he replied. " The 
 population's mostly dogs." 
 
 Winstone "did not venture on a reply, but 
 took up his book as a hint that he was not 
 keen about entering into conversation. The 
 Swagman seemed a gruff kind of individual, 
 though Winstone could not help suspecting 
 that he had seen better days, for his voice 
 suggested some refinement, and his hands did 
 not show the hardness which is associated 
 with an outdoor existence. He had evidently 
 joined that community of sundowners who
 
 172 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 trudge, day by day, with their swag and billy 
 across the open plains of Australia, seeking 
 their food from the nearest squatter, and 
 sometimes setting fire to his wool-shed by way 
 of gratitude. They look for work, but hope to 
 goodness they may find none. The squatter 
 to them is a usurper who owns the best 
 of the land and the wealth of the Golden 
 Fleece. They naturally watch with interest 
 the turn which affairs are taking in this young, 
 democratic country, for the big estates and 
 the sundowners too are going their way, and 
 both will some day be known only as part of 
 that fascinating romance of the early days. 
 
 The Swagman put his glass on the table and 
 gazed across at his silent companion as a 
 protest against his want of sociability. It 
 certainly did occur to Winstone that it would 
 be only civil of him to show some sort of 
 friendship for one who so obviously desired it. 
 1 " I suppose you have passed this way 
 before ? " he began, with an assumed air of 
 interest. 
 
 "Yes, many years ago. But this place 
 wasn't here. The drought was bad too."
 
 THE SWAGMAN 173 
 
 " Rather hard on the squatters," suggested 
 Winstone. " I suppose lots of them were 
 ruined." 
 
 " Do 'em good. I would like to see 'em 
 hump their swag in search of a meal." 
 
 " It may be," replied Winstone in a care- 
 less moment. " It may be they would hump 
 their swag in search of work." 
 
 " Eh ? " The Swagman made a slight move- 
 ment, as if he objected to the suggestion of work. 
 
 " I've no doubt," continued Winstone, 
 pretending to disregard the exclamation, 
 " that they would make a pretty good fight 
 against adversity. If anybody rightly de- 
 served what they gained, it was the pioneer 
 settler who braved the unknown and sowed 
 the seeds of this land's prosperity." 
 
 The man seemed a little perplexed at this 
 unsympathetic attitude. He took his pipe 
 out of his mouth, and leaning across the table, 
 regarded his companion very closely. 
 
 " I suppose you think I'm a loafer, and it 
 may be you are right, but there was a time 
 when matters were different. I'll tell you 
 something."
 
 174 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 Winstone could not help observing that the 
 demeanour of the man had suddenly changed, 
 for he seemed to have thrown aside his previous 
 gruff manner and now spoke like one who was 
 an equal, choosing his words with ease. In 
 fact, Winstone felt rather like the wedding 
 guest in " The Ancient Mariner," for some- 
 how the man seemed to hold him with his 
 glittering eye, and though his eyes were cer- 
 tainly rather more blood-shot than glittering, 
 the simile holds good. 
 
 " I used to work," he began, " in a large 
 commercial establishment in the city. I got 
 on as well as most fellows, but matters moved 
 too slowly. I hated being cooped up with a 
 hundred other clerks who had no interests 
 outside their fancy vests and neckties. I 
 happened to read in the newspapers one day 
 that an opal field had been discovered in the 
 far north. There was my chance, for I had 
 nothing to hold me back, as both my parents 
 were dead. I didn't realize what was ahead 
 of me. The only thing that suggested it- 
 self was the possibility of making a fortune 
 of becoming an opal king."
 
 THE SWAGMAN 175 
 
 The Swagman broke off with a kind of 
 satirical laugh, and relit his pipe. 
 
 " I look like an opal king, don't I ? " he 
 went on. " But never mind that part. 
 Those plains have caught hold of me with a 
 fascination which I can't shake off. There's 
 something there which broods over those 
 lonely tracts, that tells you that you are not 
 alone. I'm free, and I live as a free man. 
 Yet " he said, picking up his empty glass 
 and contemplating it for a moment, while his 
 voice assumed a softer tone that Winstone 
 had not noticed before. " I sometimes think 
 I am not altogether free. I'm a bit of a 
 slave in a way, and I might have been an 
 opal king." 
 
 As he spoke, he beckoned to the pro- 
 prietor, who was sitting on a box near by 
 awaiting an order. He rose and filled another 
 glass, and as he pocketed the Swagman's 
 last coin, a glow of satisfaction came over his 
 face, for he was reaping his "'arvest." 
 
 " Well," continued the Swagman, " there 
 was a young fellow from the office who accom- 
 panied me. He was little more than a boy,
 
 176 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 and frail too. I always called him Bubbles, 
 because, when I had known him at school, he 
 had reminded me of a picture by that name. 
 We only had a rough idea of the direction in 
 which we were to travel, and neither of us 
 had had any experience of the country. We 
 travelled as far as we could by rail, and then 
 started our tramp across the plains. After 
 the second day the country became desolate 
 and bare, and our feet were decidedly sore. 
 There was a big drought at the time, and the 
 ground was like baked bricks, with great 
 cracks running across the surface. We had 
 seen the cockies further back carting their 
 water, and had passed the carcasses of dead 
 sheep and cattle on which the crows were 
 holding high festival. The creeks were dry, 
 except for a few water holes, and Bubbles 
 was knocking up, but he had lots of pluck, 
 and we trudged on, hoping to reach some out- 
 station, but we had got beyond the reach of 
 habitation, and every step we took was 
 further from civilization. At last our water 
 was nearly used up, and the water holes were 
 becoming scarce."
 
 THE SWAGMAN 177 
 
 The Swagman stopped in his story, and 
 drained his glass as if the recollection of his 
 experience had renewed his thirst. 
 
 " Have you ever been lost on a drought- 
 stricken plain ? " he asked. " Then I can't 
 expect you to imagine the awful, haunting 
 thoughts that took hold of me. I knew we 
 were lost, and every time that fellow Bubbles 
 lisped out some inquiry, I told him that we 
 would soon be there. I knew we couldn't 
 last longer than two days unless we could 
 save the little water in our canvas bag, 
 which we treasured as if it were our very life. 
 Suddenly as we trudged along, we saw some- 
 thing in the distance that looked like a tent. 
 I hurried on, my strength renewed by fresh 
 hope, and left Bubbles to follow. Yes, it was 
 a tent, but torn almost to shreds. I went up 
 and pulled the canvas aside, and there below 
 me lay two human skeletons. I looked round 
 for some indication of food or water, but there 
 was none. A note-book was lying doubled 
 up between them, and I knew then that we 
 had discovered a detachment of a mining 
 'expediton which had been reported as lost.
 
 178 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 My heart sank as I realized thalfour fate would 
 probably be the same. I was half mad with 
 desperation, and I sat down on the ground and 
 waited for Bubbles. There was a boring plant 
 in front of me, used for proving the ground, 
 and I carelessly picked up a piece of soil that 
 had clamped together, and it broke away in 
 my hand. Something shone in it, and an 
 idea that it contained tiny particles of silver, 
 which had been ground almost to powder 
 by the boring machine, caused a strange cur- 
 rent of excitement to run through me. On 
 our journey to the opal field, it seemed we 
 had accidentally come upon a rich deposit of 
 silver. 
 
 " I scarcely knew what I did, and I feel 
 ashamed to think that such a lust for riches 
 had taken hold of me that I quite lost sight of 
 the fact that we were lost, and all the treasures 
 of the earth could not lift us out of our 
 position of dire distress. I called to Bubbles, 
 who hurried up. ' Look ! ' I exclaimed, 
 and I snatched the water bag from him, and 
 before his cry of warning burst out, I had 
 emptied the contents over the palm of my
 
 THE SWAGMAN 179 
 
 hand. The soil sparkled into a myriad eyes. 
 It was our fortune. Then I was suddenly 
 recalled to myself by another shrill cry from 
 Bubbles. The water ! My God ! what had 
 I done ! I stood for a minute gazing at my 
 hand. Then I realized that I had cast away 
 something far more precious than the glitter- 
 ing eyes, that dazzled me with their fiendish 
 joy. 
 
 "Bubbles was now lying on the ground, 
 with his face buried in his hands. I suppose 
 the realization of my mad behaviour nerved 
 me up, for I lied to him with a valiant dis- 
 regard of truth, and told him that I knew 
 where to find water beyond the neighbouring 
 rise. I asked him to wait till I returned 
 and all the time I knew that we were lost. 
 
 " I trudged over the incline, trying to urge 
 myself on with the hope that there would at 
 least be some indication of an outlying station, 
 or some other form of help. I reached the 
 top and stood there, overcome with what I 
 saw. ' Bubbles ! ' I shouted, and I gazed 
 again at the grandeur of the scene, shading 
 my eyes from the glare, for in front of me,
 
 i8o TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 not many miles away, was a huge lake. 
 ' Bubbles ! Come on/ I called again as I 
 ran back to meet him, for a new strength 
 had taken hold of us both. Then we stood 
 together at the summit of the rise. I shall 
 never forget it. We gazed again and again. 
 But the lake was nowhere to be seen. It had 
 vanished vanished as all mirages do. 
 
 " But there was a new hope. The same 
 clouds that had shaded the rays of the sun, 
 and blotted out the magic lake, rolled on in 
 huge folds across the sky. We lay on the 
 ground together and watched those clouds as 
 if they were a succouring legion. That night 
 it rained, and the parched plains drank in 
 their store, and so did we. 
 
 " The next day we saw the buildings of an 
 out-station. It was there we rested and re- 
 gained our strength. Our story was carried 
 on to the cities. The discovery of the lost 
 mining expedition was news in itself, but the 
 silver filings told a different tale. We had 
 gone in search of opals and had found silver. 
 And what do you think ? Bubbles is a jolly 
 millionaire, and I ? "
 
 THE SWAGMAN 181 
 
 The Swagman stopped and looked across 
 at Winstone. Then he rose from his seat, and 
 quietly taking up his swag, he walked towards 
 the door, followed by his dog, which had been 
 peacefully sleeping at his feet. He hesitated 
 for a moment, and looked round. There was 
 a peculiar expression in his face. 
 
 " Don't let my story worry you," he said. 
 " It's a bit gruesome, I admit. But it's all 
 right now, for I'm partners with Bubbles, 
 and I'm on my way to the silver mines. The 
 rascal dared me to tramp the journey just as 
 I did in the old days, and I guess I'll do it. 
 Not a bad swaggie, am I ? But in those 
 early days it was the real thing, I can tell 
 you. We had a pretty narrow shave, didn't 
 we?" 
 
 And with these words he laughed and went 
 out into the night.
 
 THE JUNIOR CLERK
 
 The Junior Clerk 
 
 THE few people in the district who had 
 met Captain Mordell had voted him a 
 jolly good sort. They liked the gay freedom 
 of his conversation, his amusing anecdotes, and 
 the vivid narration of his enthralling experi- 
 ences, as well as the general good fellowship 
 which he exhibited towards all. He was a 
 rather fine-looking man, tall and of military 
 bearing. 
 
 There was, however, just one person who 
 did not share this general good opinion of 
 him. He did not outwardly express his dis- 
 approval, but he nevertheless felt quite con- 
 vinced that Captain Mordell was not the 
 man to be encouraged. He was probably 
 quite unable to give any direct reason for this 
 attitude towards one who was so much appre-
 
 186 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 dated by others, but the fact remained that 
 young Ramsley was firmly convinced that 
 his motives were not entirely above sus- 
 picion. 
 
 Of course Ramsley was little more than a 
 boy, and had only occupied his present 
 position of junior clerk in the local bank for a 
 few months. The Manager, who was his only 
 companion, had laughed heartily on the first 
 occasion on which his new clerk had taken his 
 seat behind his ledger, for practically every 
 movement which he made was responded to by 
 a loud peal of an electric bell from the rear 
 of the building, and it was some time before 
 he was able to trace the cause of such a pecu- 
 liar welcome. There certainly was an element 
 of humour in the situation, and while the 
 Manager pointed out the various knobs be- 
 neath the desk, he explained that in case 
 the bank was stuck up and the clerk was called 
 upon to put up his hands, he could quite 
 easily give the alarm by touching one of these 
 electric buttons with his foot or knee. There 
 was a further sense of security in the fact that 
 a five-chambered revolver lay on the shelf
 
 THE JUNIOR CLERK 187 
 
 beside him. So there was, after all, much 
 to Ramsley's satisfaction, a slight possibility 
 of excitement in what had otherwise appeared 
 a dreary outlook. 
 
 The bank was the chief building in this un- 
 pretentious township, which merely consisted 
 of a few scattered houses cut off from the 
 world by an apparently endless expanse of 
 wheat fields, which furrowed in the wind like 
 waves and stretched out on all sides across 
 the monotonous plains. 
 
 The Manager of the bank was among those 
 who were particularly friendly towards the 
 Captain, and he often entertained him, in a 
 mild sort of way, on his occasional visits to the 
 township. 
 
 What brought him to such an out-of-the- 
 way place was in itself a source of suspicion 
 to Ramsley, for it was scarcely likely that any 
 reasonable man would be attracted to such 
 an uninviting locality without some fairly 
 obvious reason. He had certainly explained 
 that he was indirectly interested in the 
 crops, and liked an odd shot at a wild tur- 
 key.
 
 i88 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 It was on the occasion of his last visit 
 the last he ever paid that Ramsley was 
 invited by the Manager, in honour of the 
 Captain's visit, to spend an evening in his 
 company. 
 
 They were both thoroughly entertained, 
 as everybody was/with the Captain's conver- 
 sation, and Ramsley even went so far as to 
 forget his suspicions, and, out of sheer interest, 
 allowed himself to take a leading part in the 
 conversation. There seemed very few topics 
 upon which the Captain was incapable of 
 conversing with freedom. As the evening 
 wore on and the tobacco smoke hung like a 
 cloud over the room, Ramsley could not fail to 
 notice that the Manager's contribution to the 
 conversation was of such a rambling type 
 that it was evident he had indulged too freely 
 in the contents of the decanter. He spoke 
 excitedly, and without very much clearness, 
 on the subjects which the Captain introduced. 
 They even drifted to the topic of bushranging, 
 and the Manager went so far as to deplore 
 the decay of the " knightly art " of highway 
 robbery. He contended that there was a
 
 THE JUNIOR CLERK 189 
 
 whole mint of wealth open to any highway- 
 man of average enterprise. Though he did 
 not desire to expose the affairs of the bank, 
 he could inform his guest in confidence that 
 regularly, once a week, he himself drove across 
 those desolate plains to the agency, twenty 
 odd miles away, with a sum averaging well 
 over three hundred pounds. There was little 
 to prevent him from becoming the prey of 
 bushrangers, if they only knew the extent of 
 the wealth which he carried. He was cer- 
 tainly provided with a trusty, five-chambered 
 revolver, and so was his clerk, but it was 
 impossible to put up much of a fight without 
 an escort. 
 
 Captain Mordell, who appeared to Ramsley 
 to be much interested in the Manager's 
 remarks, took the liberty of suggesting that 
 he should inform the head-office of the desir- 
 ability of an escort, which the somewhat 
 dizzy Manager agreed to do. It was late 
 in the evening, when, amid many protesta- 
 tions and assurances of good-will, the Manager 
 insisted upon drinking his guest's health, and 
 assured him of the keen pleasure which his
 
 igo TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 visit had afforded him and of his regret at 
 his departure. The Captain, on his side, 
 replied in a little speech, in which he expressed 
 his great grief at the idea of leaving the 
 district, and of losing, in the future, such 
 capital turkey shooting. So after a pro- 
 longed exchange of similar courtesies, which 
 were embodied in quite a little speech on 
 each occasion, the entertaining guest was 
 eventually permitted to take his ^depar- 
 ture. 
 
 As Ramsley lay awake that night, he could 
 not help going over the conversation of that 
 evening. It has already been explained that 
 he suspected the motives of Captain Mordell, 
 without any apparent reason. He had been 
 greatly surprised at the Manager's unguarded 
 remarks upon affairs which every banker is 
 bound to treat with the utmost secrecy, and 
 he had also noticed the artful manner in which 
 the Captain had led up to these questions. 
 Ramsley was not in a position to reprove a 
 man who was so much his senior, and he knew 
 perfectly well that the Manager did not realize 
 that he had been guilty of disclosing the
 
 THE JUNIOR CLERK 191 
 
 private affairs of the bank. It was only 
 indirectly, a few days later, that he suggested 
 the advisability of immediately asking the 
 head-office for an escort. It is true, he soon 
 regretted having taken this step, which the 
 Manager was good enough to call his " beastly 
 interference." He had merely placed him- 
 self in that most uncomfortable position of 
 having offended his superior officer, and from 
 that time there was a distinct feeling of 
 strained friendship between them. It was 
 clear, from the conversation which they had, 
 that the Manager was not in the least aware of 
 the remarks with which he was credited, and 
 he greatly resented his clerk's suggestions, 
 and their intercourse grew more strained than 
 ever. 
 
 Now, when a man feels offended, he is apt 
 to take steps which he, at a more reasonable 
 moment, might regret, and out of sheer pro- 
 test, the Manager insisted upon driving alone 
 to the agency on the following day, leaving 
 the bank closed as usual. In fact, he sug- 
 gested, in a half-sarcastic way, that Ramsley 
 might go out and shoot turkeys.
 
 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 It happened to be the end of the quarter, 
 and all the farm labourers and various people 
 would present their cheques for payment. 
 It was therefore clear to any person who might 
 be interested enough to observe the affairs 
 of the bank, that a greater supply of money 
 would be necessary to meet this extra de- 
 mand. 
 
 At least, it was perfectly clear to Captain 
 Mordell, who had so cleverly extracted, in that 
 pleasant way of his, such satisfactory informa- 
 tion that he was in a position to judge fairly 
 accurately as to the amount which the bank's 
 buggy would convey to the agency on that 
 last day of the quarter. He considered his 
 plan of action with that usual precision which 
 had characterized all his previous under- 
 takings. He also kept in mind the important 
 fact that the Manager and his clerk would 
 each be provided with a five-chambered re- 
 volver, which would of course demand a cer- 
 tain amount of respect. He was not aware, 
 of course, that he would only have the Man- 
 ager to deal with and the task would con- 
 sequently be all the easier, As he chose out a
 
 THE JUNIOR CLERK 193 
 
 suitable spot behind a fairly prominent ridge 
 several miles from any habitation, he posted 
 his men as he considered most suitable for 
 complete success. He knew the place 
 well, for he had often bagged wild turkeys 
 while lying in ambush behind the same 
 ridge. 
 
 There was not much to wile away the 
 monotony of the tedious wait, and there was 
 little need for precaution, for the road was 
 rarely used, but at the approach of a wood 
 carrier's cart, the Captain ordered back his 
 men, and taking off his mask, he cantered 
 along the road at a leisurely pace towards the 
 approaching cart, with the intention of asking 
 a random question which might elicit some 
 useful information. The driver, who stood 
 within a large beer barrel and from his 
 disreputable appearance might have lived in 
 it merely returned the Captain's greeting 
 with a lurch sideways which nearly upset 
 the barrel. He informed the bushranger 
 in quite a confidential manner that he was 
 " ver-ra drunk," and with many applica- 
 tions of his whip to the horse, which 
 
 N
 
 194 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 seemed almost past work, he proceeded on 
 his way. 
 
 The Captain returned to his men without 
 having gained much assistance from the 
 intemperate occupant of the cart. At length 
 they saw a buggy slowly approaching over 
 the crest of a rise. They were surprised to 
 notice that, contrary to the usual custom, 
 only one man was in the trap, which would 
 make their task all the easier. In fact, four 
 to one could scarcely be regarded as an 
 even balance. In a few minutes the vehicle 
 would be alongside, and the bushrangers 
 fingered their revolvers, and when at last 
 the word was given, the masked men dashed 
 out, and before the surprised Manager had 
 time to realize his position, he found himself 
 gazing into the barrels of several large-sized 
 revolvers. He did not attempt to show any 
 opposition, but submitted with quiet grace, 
 and allowed his only weapon of defence to 
 be removed from his hip pocket ; then he 
 quietly accompanied one of the men to the 
 roadside, where he was securely ^tied to a post 
 of the fence, his hands being fastened behind
 
 THE JUNIOR CLERK 195 
 
 his back, and as an extra precaution, his own 
 scarf was folded across his eyes. Mean- 
 while the horse had been unharnessed and 
 released through an opening in the fence into 
 a neighbouring wheat field, while the Captain 
 occupied himself in arranging the sealed boxes 
 in which were the coins and notes, for he did 
 not think it advisable to waste time on the 
 road in investigating the contents. Every- 
 thing was done quietly and in perfect order, 
 as if the undertaking were a very ordinary 
 form of business, and even the Manager 
 seemed perfectly resigned to his fate. When 
 everything was completed to their satisfac- 
 tion, one of the men addressed a few words 
 to the Manager in which he expressed the 
 hope that a passer-by might be good enough 
 to release him from his embarrassing position, 
 or even the intoxicated gentleman in the 
 barrel might be returning before nightfall 
 and might prove of some assistance. Then 
 they rode off to examine their booty. 
 
 Perhaps from a sensational point of view 
 the undertaking lacked incident. There had 
 been no wild struggle, no exchange of shots
 
 196 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 or desperate encounter, as might have been 
 expected ; but merely a quiet, business-like 
 transaction. It is hard indeed to imagine the 
 Manager's mixed feelings when he realized 
 that the bank's property would possibly 
 have been saved if he had only been more 
 reasonable and listened to the advice of a 
 junior clerk. But that had all passed, and 
 his one desire was to free himself from his 
 bonds and give the alarm. It was a long and 
 exhausting struggle, but he kept stubbornly 
 to the task until his wrists were almost raw, 
 and the thin ropes cut into his sides like 
 shrinking thongs. Occasionally he paused 
 for breath, and gazed with longing eyes at 
 his horse, that appeared to take quite a differ- 
 ent view of the situation, as it nibbled at the 
 husks. Again he struggled and writhed, then 
 a rope gave way, then another. 
 
 It was some time after business hours when 
 the half-distracted Manager drove up to the 
 agency at a hand gallop. The tiny township 
 seemed deserted. He jumped hurriedly from 
 the vehicle, and searched in his pocket for 
 his keys, but to his astonishment newfound
 
 THE JUNIOR CLERK 197 
 
 the door already unlatched. His surprise 
 was even greater when, on entering, he dis- 
 covered his junior clerk quietly seated 
 behind the counter adding up a column of 
 figures. 
 
 " What ! " he exclaimed. " You here ? " 
 
 Without waiting for a reply he threw 
 himself into a chair in a state of exhaus- 
 tion. 
 
 Ramsley quietly entered the result of his 
 calculation ; and after locking the door, 
 returned to render what assistance he could 
 to his chief, from whose waist a rope end was 
 still hanging, while his bleeding wrists hung 
 limply down. 
 
 When he had sufficiently recovered under 
 his clerk's attention, the Manager, as briefly 
 as he could, described his unfortunate experi- 
 ence, and was unable to quite disguise his 
 annoyance at the indifference with which 
 Ramsley appeared to view the situation. 
 
 " Don't you understand ? " he asked, 
 thumping his hand violently on the desk, 
 " the whole bang lot of money is gone. And 
 you ? " he went on, " how the dickens did
 
 198 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 you get here ? And the clients ? Where 
 are they ? " 
 
 " I believe they have returned to their 
 homes. I took the liberty of cashing their 
 cheques." 
 
 '* But, you young idiot," burst out the 
 impulsive man again, " can't you under- 
 stand ? Those dogs have got the cash." 
 
 " No, sir, the cash is here. Those boxes 
 which they have stolen contain chiefly lead 
 foil and brown paper, with a brief note of 
 explanation addressed to Captain Mordell, 
 bushranger." 
 
 " Captain Mordell ? " 
 
 The Manager rose to his feet. The whole 
 truth of the affair was gradually dawning 
 upon his confused brain. ' The Captain," 
 he repeated to himself. " The boy was 
 right. And the lead foil and the brown paper 
 excellent, by Jove, excellent ! " And he 
 laughed in spite of himself. 
 
 " But you ? " he asked again, " how did 
 you get here, and the money ? " 
 
 " I drove," replied the junior clerk, in the 
 same careless way, " in the get-up of a wood
 
 THE JUNIOR CLERK 199 
 
 carrier ; and as I passed your friend the 
 Captain, I told him from the beer barrel in 
 which I stood upon the money boxes, that I 
 was 'verra drunk.'"
 
 SEELENBERGER'S REVENGE
 
 Seelenberger's Revenge 
 
 HIS real name was Seelenberger ; at least 
 he said so, but the fellows refused to 
 believe it. There must have been some 
 mistake, they explained, for the name was 
 quite impossible. However, they very soon 
 put the matter right by re-naming him on 
 his first night at school. After going through 
 a ridiculous lot of formality, during which 
 he insisted that there was no mistake, a 
 compromise was agreed upon, with the result 
 that he was called Seely, which gradually 
 changed to Seal, which in turn suggested 
 Walrus. So amid further ceremonial he was 
 named Walrus. 
 
 He was a good-natured fellow, and took 
 his troubles in the right spirit. He was fat, 
 and was responsible for as much fun as the 
 rest of the school put together. He was not
 
 204 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 funny of his own accord, but as the instru- 
 ment of others. If he happened to be left 
 to himself he was quite an ordinary person, 
 and delighted in looking for grubs and over- 
 turning rocks for scientific purposes. 
 
 He used to sit in the back row of his form 
 beside a most entertaining fellow called 
 Anstey, who took a perfect delight in getting 
 him into the most unearthly scrapes. It was 
 always during Mr. Mansfield's lesson that 
 Anstey played up, and consequently it was 
 this lesson that Walrus dreaded. Mr. Mans- 
 field had one serious weakness, which was a 
 source of much worry to Walrus. He used 
 to give an imposition to a fellow for doing 
 absolutely nothing ; at least, so Walrus said. 
 It was always the same imposition, an awfully 
 stiff one which appeared quite simple. 
 "Twenty lines, big hand," were the exact 
 words he used, which meant that every 
 letter had to be of an immense size and per- 
 fectly formed, or the whole thing had to be 
 done again. Anstey did not mind for him- 
 self, as he was the best writer in the school ; 
 but Walrus feared this form of torture more
 
 SEELENBERGER'S REVENGE 205 
 
 than any other, and counted himself fortunate 
 whenever he escaped, which was not very 
 often. As the impositions were set, according 
 to him, for doing " absolutely nothing," he 
 was scarcely to blame. 
 
 One day it was a beastly hot afternoon 
 one of those days in which the flies seem to 
 revel, particularly those fat, drowsy, yellow 
 fellows who float about the ceiling and hum 
 you right off to sleep, and suddenly wake 
 you up with a start as they bang against the 
 window like a shot from a pea-shooter. 
 
 Now this type of atmosphere prevailed 
 while Mr. Mansfield was taking the class in 
 English literature, which was quite his pet 
 subject. He was what is called an enthusiast, 
 and therefore hated to be interrupted during 
 a lesson by any disconcerting event. He 
 would frequently read aloud long passages 
 from Shakespeare, and if the class did not 
 become absolutely engrossed, the inevitable 
 t( twenty Alines, big hand," ^was the re- 
 ward. 
 
 On this particular afternoon, Walrus was 
 fearfully bored and was really drowsy, and
 
 206 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 those yellow chaps gradually lulled him right 
 off to sleep. It was the only occasion, he 
 explained afterwards, on which he had ever 
 been to sleep in school, but he apparently 
 couldn't help it. When he dozed off, Mr. 
 Mansfield, who appeared particularly touchy 
 that afternoon, was reading the last act of 
 Richard III, and gesticulating like a sema- 
 phore. Anstey, who was more interested in 
 the sleeping Walrus than in Richard III, 
 gave the boy a violent dig in the ribs and 
 whispered hurriedly in his ear that it was 
 his turn to read. He indicated, at the same 
 time, the place, and the unsuspecting Walrus, 
 not having time to take in the position, im- 
 diately stood up and started to read with his 
 full stentorian voice, quite drowning that of 
 his master, at that part where Richard is 
 unhorsed and shouts : "A horse ! a horse ! 
 my kingdom for a horse." 
 
 Now Mr. Mansfield was a fairly docile 
 person as a rule, and that is why Anstey 
 chose his lesson for his jokes ; but on this 
 occasion he absolutely raved. Amongst the 
 expletives which he hurled at the perplexed
 
 SEELENBERGER'S REVENGE 207 
 
 Walrus, he connected a few rounded sen- 
 tences in which he tried to make him under- 
 stand that his unseemly interruption had 
 quite spoilt the power of the whole passage, 
 and he would have to write " twenty lines, 
 big hand," and the whole scene as well. 
 Walrus was quite unable to make it out. It 
 was one of those impositions which he so fre- 
 quently received for doing absolutely nothing, 
 but he kept awake for the rest of the lesson, 
 and was gratified to see Anstey debited with 
 the same imposition because he wanted to 
 know whether Richard managed to catch his 
 horse. Anyhow, after the lesson, Anstey took 
 Walrus by the arm in that thoroughly cap- 
 tivating way of his, and after expressing his 
 sympathy in the most lamentable tones, he 
 volunteered to do the whole imposition for 
 him as well as his own. At first Walrus ob- 
 jected, as he did not consider that it was 
 quite a decent thing to make use of a sym- 
 pathetic friend to that extent, and besides, 
 Mr. Mansfield would object. However, An- 
 stey did both impositions in no time and told 
 the master the reason, and they were accepted,
 
 208 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 simply because Anstey had a way of working 
 these things which was quite beyond the 
 comprehension of others. In fact, he fre- 
 quently took the most astonishing liberties 
 with Mr. Mansfield, who, in spite of his tem- 
 porary irritation, appeared to admire the 
 boy's persistency. There was scarcely a 
 lesson in which he did not assert himself, 
 which pleased the other fellows immensely, 
 especially when Walrus was the undeserving 
 object of the master's wrath. 
 
 In the next literature lesson Mr. Mansfield 
 continued to enlarge on the character and 
 doings of Richard, and traced that part of 
 his career as narrated by the famous R. L. 
 Stevenson in Black Arrow, whereupon Anstey 
 wanted to know whether it was the same 
 Richard who went to the Crusades, and 
 whether he went on a Cook's excursion. 
 There was a mild laugh from the class as Mr. 
 Mansfield announced his " twenty lines, big 
 hand." It was evident that he was in his 
 humorous mood, and Anstey was thereby 
 encouraged to make the most of the occasion. 
 He went so far as to question the justice of
 
 SEELENBERGER'S REVENGE 209 
 
 the imposition, and entered into quite a 
 lengthy discussion with the master, whose 
 temper he seemed on this occasion quite 
 unable to ruffle. Surely there was some 
 reason for this, for he was usually so impulsive 
 and would not think of tolerating such im- 
 pertinence as an objection to his ruling. But 
 the argument continued, and Anstey became 
 so dictatorial that Mr. Mansfield was bold 
 enough to suggest that Anstey might like to 
 conduct the class for himself. Of course he 
 didn't mean what he said, but Anstey took 
 him seriously," and they actually changed 
 places. The class had never seen their master 
 in such a mood before. It was playful, and 
 some of them thought he was making himself 
 rather cheap. But surely there was some 
 subtle reason for acting in this boyish way. 
 Anstey represented the schoolmaster for a 
 few minutes with a finished perception, and 
 it was clear to all that he was endeavouring 
 to impersonate the peculiarities and expres- 
 sions of his master, till at last Mr. Mansfield 
 made some remark of protest, whereupon 
 Anstey stopped, and staring for a moment in
 
 2io TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 exact imitation, he pointed his finger towards 
 the master. 
 
 " Mansfield/ 1 he drawled, " twenty lines, 
 big hand." 
 
 Of course everybody enjoyed the joke, and 
 even Mr. Mansfield, as he resumed his place, 
 showed his appreciation, but perhaps he had 
 some reason to chuckle to himself which was 
 not altogether obvious to Anstey. 
 
 It was during the two days which elapsed 
 before the next literature lesson that Anstey 
 matured the idea for his next perform- 
 ance. 
 
 It was what was known in the school as 
 Arbour Day, and every year On this day a 
 branch Jof wattle blossom was placed in each 
 classroom. It was the headmaster's idea, for 
 he thought it would make the fellows take 
 some interest in nature study and similar 
 pursuits. He was particularly keen about 
 wattle himself, and appreciated any interest 
 or enthusiasm which was shown in his inno- 
 vation. 
 
 It had occurred to Anstey's versatile brain 
 that he might as well show his recognition of
 
 SEELENBERGER'S REVENGE 211 
 
 the day in a fitting manner by decorating 
 himself and Walrus in a design of wattle. 
 Walrus had become so impressed with the 
 success of Anstey's undertakings, that he was 
 always ready to take part in them. So 
 they waited in their seats, almost smothered 
 in a crude arrangement of wattle, for the 
 entry of Mr. Mansfield, who, they were sure, 
 would recognize their humour. 
 
 Now, unfortunately for both these boys, it 
 happened that Mr. Mansfield knew that they 
 had intended to decorate themselves in this 
 way. At least, he had overheard Anstey say 
 that he intended to carry out this idea if his 
 master appeared to be in a suitable mood. 
 It had occurred to the brain of this far-seeing 
 man that it would be quite necessary to 
 assume a good humour in order to encourage 
 this idea, for he undoubtedly had some reason 
 for desiring the boys to carry it out. So it 
 is quite easy to understand the almost ridicu- 
 lous attitude which he had adopted when he 
 had last taken the class. But the reason, 
 whatever it might be, was too subtle to be 
 discovered_by these boys, who afterwards
 
 212 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 admitted the cleverness of his method and 
 admired it accordingly. 
 
 While they waited for his entry, they were 
 the object of much admiration, and many 
 speculations were indulged in as to how the 
 decorations would be received. Then there 
 was a heavy step outside the door accom- 
 panied by a harsh cough, and in another 
 moment Chiron entered. Now if any man 
 inspired boys with dread, it was this man. 
 He was called Chiron because he was the 
 tutor of so many celebrated people, though 
 that was his only claim to the name, for he 
 was otherwise a most unpleasant person. 
 He was the senior mathematical master, and 
 a pretty strict one too. He was short- 
 sighted, and as he adjusted his spectacles he 
 explained that he was changing forms for 
 that hour with Mr. Mansfield, as he desired 
 to give the class a short oral examination, 
 which in reality had been arranged at the 
 suggestion of Mr. Mansfield. He looked 
 round the room, gazed for a few moments at 
 the apparitions in wattle, took off his spec- 
 tacles and wiped them, and after placing
 
 SEELENBERGER'S REVENGE 213 
 
 them again in position, he literally glared for 
 a full minute. Anstey and Walrus did not 
 dare to meet his gaze, but in the midst of 
 their confusion they heard his harsh voice 
 order them to stand up. Then they found 
 themselves walking down the passage with 
 Chiron behind them, threatening to gate 
 them for a week if they dropped a blossom. 
 He told them to open the third door on the 
 left. They seemed compelled to obey. Any- 
 thing was better than this man's presence, 
 even though it was the headmaster's study. 
 They opened the door and entered, while 
 Chiron listened outside. He could not resist 
 the temptation, for he had been insulted. 
 Such a liberty had never before been taken 
 with him. He at length heard the head- 
 master's voice. 
 
 " Well ! Well ! Well done, boys ! Very 
 good, very good ! I appreciate your enthu- 
 siasm very much. You know my love for 
 wattle. Thanks very much, very much in- 
 deed." And he shook them both by the 
 hand. " Please take it off, and I shall decor- 
 ate my study with it. Thanks again."
 
 214 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 The boys, almost overwhelmed with de- 
 lightful surprise at the headmaster's mistaken 
 idea of their visit, placed the wattle in a neat 
 pile on a chair. Then they nervously re- 
 turned to the classroom, having received a 
 severe shock from mere astonishment. 
 
 They found Chiron literally ramping. He 
 glared at them again through those awe- 
 inspiring glasses, and with a mighty effort of 
 self-control he proceeded to test the know- 
 ledge of the class. 
 
 Whether Mr. Mansfield's little plan had 
 succeeded or not could easily be gathered 
 from the lack of humour displayed by Anstey 
 during the next week. It was pretty smart 
 of him, and he had good reason to be satisfied 
 with the success of his trap, which in its way 
 had been rather cleverly prepared. 
 
 As time went on, Walrus increased in 
 wisdom. He had been drawn into numerous 
 unpleasant positions by Anstey, and a sporting 
 instinct had developed in him, and there was 
 a certain fascination in running the risk of 
 punishment. It occurred to him that it was 
 his turn to pay off a few scores against this
 
 SEELENBERGER'S REVENGE 215 
 
 boy whose dupe he had so often been, for 
 indeed he had not forgotten the incident of 
 Richard IH and his horse, and he had written 
 several hundred lines, big hand, during the 
 term. 
 
 The opportunity afforded itself in an unex- 
 pected way. It was Mr. Mansfield's night 
 on duty in the boarding-house, and though 
 their last experience had rather sobered them, 
 they were now beginning to look out for 
 some further sport. It was just time for the 
 master on duty to go his rounds and turn out 
 the lights in the dormitories, when Walrus 
 dared Anstey to hide in the clothes basket. 
 It was an immense affair, and had a lid which 
 would entirely hide any occupant. It was 
 a sporting challenge, and greatly appealed 
 to Anstey, who was feeling quite inclined to 
 revive his pantomimic displays ; but no 
 sooner had he established himself in the basket 
 with what degree of comfort he could, and 
 had pulled down the wicker lid, than he heard 
 footsteps approaching along the passage. 
 His heart began to throb, for again Chiron, 
 quite by a matter of chance, had taken Mr.
 
 216 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 Mansfield's place. What shocking luck it 
 was ! There was no time to slip back to bed, 
 and his only chance lay in perfect silence. 
 The thought suddenly occurred to Anstey 
 that Walrus had known of this, and he was 
 generous enough, even in his present per- 
 plexity, to acknowledge to himself the reason- 
 ableness of Walrus' little revenge, while all 
 the time this elated person buried his face in 
 his pillow and endeavoured to smother his 
 laughter. 
 
 Chiron walked between the two long lines 
 of beds. He had been wiping his glasses as 
 he entered ; but they were now in position, 
 and his eyes, which seemed to peer into the 
 very hearts of boys, fell upon the empty bed. 
 He coughed, as he always did when he scented 
 trouble. He seemed to take a perfect de- 
 light in such a position. He stood still and 
 listened. Some one giggled close by him ; 
 then something creaked in the corner. His 
 quick brain at once took in the situation. 
 He walked slowly towards the clothes basket, 
 and quietly turned the cross beam that se- 
 cured the lid. Then he stooped, and with a
 
 SEELENBERGER'S REVENGE 217 
 
 great effort slung it over his back as if it had 
 been a sack of potatoes, and calmly walked 
 out of the room and down the stairs. As he 
 jerked from step to step, he informed the 
 occupant of the basket in his cutting voice 
 that he hoped for better luck this time. In 
 another moment he pushed open the head- 
 master's door with his foot, and placing the 
 basket in the corner, walked slowly out. 
 
 It was certainly the most embarrassing 
 position that Anstey had ever been in. He 
 knew he could not force off the lid, for it was 
 securely fixed by the cross beam. He peered 
 out through the wickeiwork, and noticed 
 that the room was empty. The headmaster 
 would no doubt return any moment. The 
 sooner the better, for the suspense was 
 decidedly painful. There could be no mis- 
 taken idea of his visit this time, especially as 
 he had come in a basket. The headmaster 
 would undoubtedly want an explanation, and 
 he simply prepared for the worst, and Chiron, 
 he felt sure, would have good reason to 
 chuckle. 
 
 The door handle at last turned, and the
 
 218 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 headmaster entered. He immediately sat 
 down at his table, and taking up his pen 
 began to write a letter. So far he had not 
 noticed the basket, which was in a shadow. 
 He continued writing for some time, and 
 Anstey thought he heard him mumble some- 
 thing about imbecile parents. He could 
 plainly see his face, which bore an angry 
 expression, and the boy's faint hopes dwindled 
 to nothing. The headmaster dipped his pen 
 in the ink, then glanced towards the corner, 
 for something had undoubtedly creaked, yet 
 the shadow still prevented him from distin- 
 guishing the basket. He continued his writ- 
 ing, but suddenly looked up again, for it was 
 more than a creak this time. Surely there 
 was some person concealed in the room. He 
 rose from his seat, and glanced towards the 
 corner. His eyes fell on the basket, and the 
 basket moved. In fact, at that moment it 
 nearly overbalanced. He drew back a step. 
 He was quite sure he was not nervous, but 
 it was nevertheless strange to see a basket 
 move. He retired a step or two further 
 towards his table, and for the moment it
 
 SEELENBERGER'S REVENGE 219 
 
 looked strangely as if he intended to take 
 refuge behind it ; but he merely seized a 
 heavy ruler, and approached the basket 
 again. 
 
 " Please, sir," came a feeble voice. 
 ' What ! " Then his courage returned, for 
 he recognized that it was the clothes basket 
 from the dormitory and he thought he knew 
 the voice. He lifted the lid and saw the 
 unhappy face of Anstey gazing, almost in 
 supplication, into his. 
 
 " What does this mean ? " 
 
 The boy tried to explain, but as the story 
 progressed, interspersed with a few pardonable 
 pleadings, he recognized that the case was 
 hopeless. 
 
 In fact, when he returned to the dormitory 
 a few minutes later, he was able to explain 
 that his reception by the headmaster had 
 been, to say the least of it, fairly painful. 
 It was quite evident, at all events, that 
 Chiron had little reason to lament on this 
 occasion. He got into bed amid a shower 
 of whispeied demands for details, which he 
 answered as best he could. Then Walrus
 
 220 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 leant over from the next bed, and tried to 
 express his sympathy. Anstey turned and 
 put out his hand. 
 
 " All right, old fellow," he said, " I think 
 it was about your turn ; and that makes us 
 square."
 
 THE CONVICT
 
 The Convict 
 
 HE was employed on the outstation split- 
 ting logs for fencing. A large creek, 
 swollen by continual rains, ran beside him. 
 He always worked alone, for the mere fact 
 that he was a convict, and the other hands 
 did not care to associate with him. He was 
 looked upon as an exceedingly good workman, 
 though it was evident to the most casual 
 observer that in the days before his transporta- 
 tion to Australia he had been accustomed to 
 other occupation. In fact, it was rumoured 
 that he had once occupied a fairly responsible 
 position in the old country, but no one was 
 quite clear about the matter. He had been 
 mixed up, they understood, in some forgery 
 business ; but that was about the full extent 
 of their knowledge.
 
 224 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 He had served several years at the convict 
 settlement, and owing to his good behaviour 
 had been permitted to work on this large 
 cattle station, without pay, on consideration 
 that he was fed and clothed by his employer. 
 It was quite possible, in accordance with 
 the regulations, to eventually win his freedom. 
 Some of his companions had already done 
 that, but without exception they had pre- 
 ferred to take up land in Australia rather 
 than face the disgrace of returning home. 
 Some of them had, in the end, become large 
 station owners. This system, it might be 
 thought, was humane and wise. At least, it 
 was a satisfactory way for England to people 
 her new possession, especially as it had the 
 further advantage of ridding her of her sur- 
 plus crime, for since America had been lost 
 she had been looking about for a new dumping 
 ground for these unfortunate people. Much 
 the same idea had been successful, it is re- 
 ported, in the early days of Rome, when 
 Romulus desired to people his new settlement 
 which became the mistress of the world ; 
 so this plan was not altogether original,
 
 THE CONVICT 225 
 
 It was known that the squatter looked 
 upon the convict with some favour. He 
 admired the thorough manner in which he 
 performed his duties, and he had often tried 
 to engage him in conversation ; but the 
 silence of the bush seemed to have crept into 
 his being and made him a man of few words. 
 The squatter could not help being impressed 
 with the quiet, unobtrusive manner of this 
 man, and his deep, cultured voice told that 
 half-pathetic tale, so often repeated, that he 
 had known better days. 
 
 Now, it often happens, even with the most 
 tranquil surroundings, that some unexpected 
 element steals in and changes the whole 
 current of events. The convict might have 
 lived out his days in the lonely recesses of 
 the deep forest, undisturbed and unremem- 
 bered, and the countryside would never have 
 rung with his name except for a very strange 
 development. 
 
 It happened, about this time, that an 
 Englishman had come to the station for the 
 purpose, it was thought, of gaining what is 
 known as colonial experience. These jacka-
 
 226 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 roos are to be found on many Australian 
 stations, and splendid fellows they usually 
 are. But somehow, this particular new- 
 comer never seemed to quite fit in with his 
 surroundings. The station hands called him 
 the Dandy, and they took a violent dislike 
 to his artificial manner and sinister expression, 
 for these men of the bush only tolerate a man 
 when he is genuine and real, and they know 
 a man when they see him. Though he need 
 not altogether be of their type, he must be 
 able to hold his own with the best of them. 
 So when they adopted this attitude towards 
 him, it was evident that he did not represent 
 their conception of a man. Besides, he 
 seemed to spend his time prying into the 
 affairs of the convict and perpetually watching 
 his movements. Though none of them held 
 much converse with the convict, they nur- 
 tured a hidden respect for this man who was 
 so silently living out his days in the far 
 corners of the run, and they did not approve 
 of this system of spying in which the Dandy 
 so persisted. It was also hinted that he 
 was endeavouring to obtain the convict's
 
 THE CONVICT 227 
 
 dismissal, as being an undesirable person to 
 employ. 
 
 So the days passed and the winter closed 
 in with its unceasing rains, and the creek 
 grew quickly into a surging torrent. It was 
 impossible to cross it at the ford, and a kind 
 of ferry, in the form of a small open boat, 
 was employed a little higher up the stream. 
 
 During these dreary days the convict 
 worked on with the rain soaking through his 
 thin clothing, and with an even, steady swing 
 of the mall he struck the wedge that split the 
 red gum into measured rails. It was a weary, 
 monotonous task, but his firm-set features 
 never betrayed any sign of despair. No 
 doubt there was a sense of freedom after the 
 long years at the settlement. 
 
 As one of these days was drawing to a 
 close, he looked up and was surprised to see 
 the Dandy riding towards him through the 
 trees. It was evident that he intended to 
 speak to him. It was the first time they had 
 come into actual contact, though the convict 
 had often noticed him in close proximity, as 
 if he were, for some reason, spying upon him.
 
 228 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 The convict continued 'his work as if he 
 did not observe the man, for he had naturally, 
 on account of the Dandy's prying ways, 
 earnt to regard him with a certain amount 
 of mistrust. 
 
 " Hie," shouted the Dandy through the 
 rain, " take this colt back to the stables, 
 while I make a short cut for the ferry boat." 
 
 As he gave these instructions he dismounted 
 and threw the reins towards the convict, 
 while the horse began to nibble at the grass. 
 
 The convict looked up and met the intense 
 gaze of this visitor, whose face was half 
 hidden, with good reason too, behind the 
 lapels of his waterproof. 
 
 The convict nodded and resumed his work, 
 but had he looked more intently at the almost 
 concealed features of his companion, he 
 would have noticed a quick movement as of 
 one who had made some sudden discovery 
 which no doubt satisfied the curiosity which 
 he had always exhibited in regard to the 
 convict. 
 
 The Dandy did not wait, but without 
 further word hurried on towards the ferry.
 
 THE CONVICT 229 
 
 In one minute he had reached the bank be- 
 side which the water eddied and circled, and 
 dimpled with the torrents of rain that poured 
 upon its surface and furrowed its banks. He 
 looked for a few moments at the frail craft 
 that was to bear him across the flood, and he 
 hesitated in his perplexity, while all the 
 time, in spite of the danger before him, his 
 mind was riveted on that calm, placid face 
 into which he had just gazed. 
 
 " Great heavens ! " he muttered, " I have 
 found him." 
 
 Then he jumped into the boat and pushed 
 off. 
 
 Perhaps his inexperience had something 
 to do with it, or it may be his mind was 
 occupied with other thoughts 'which drew 
 his attention away from the danger around 
 him. It was absolute madness to attempt 
 to cross a rushing torrent in a craft that 
 would scarcely bear the weight of a man. 
 The sullen roar of the surging flood as it 
 raced and tumbled over the ford a few yards 
 lower down, suggested the wild, angry force 
 of the waters. There was a quick snap of
 
 230 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 the frail oar, and the little craft, like match- 
 wood, circled and glided at the mercy of the 
 flood. A huge floating log, as if seeking 
 comradeship, nestled with its hulking weight 
 against the thin ribs, while the snags, pro- 
 truding above the eddies, held the onrushing 
 mass in check, then snapped ; and all the 
 time the Dandy clutched the wale and 
 shouted for help above the roar of flood and 
 rain ; but no sound could pierce its tumult. 
 Then the huge log seemed for a moment to 
 sink beneath the keel, and with an almost 
 human lurch, rose slowly beneath it, and 
 lifted the boat above the water. It poised 
 there, then toppled over with the agonized 
 man beneath it. It grated on the rounded 
 stones of the ford, then suddenly, feeling the 
 sweep of the current again, rolled over the 
 granite boulders and careered in its mad 
 race downstream. The Dandy, almost crushed 
 and half drowned, rose from beneath the 
 water and clutched madly at the boulders. 
 It seemed for a short space that he would 
 retain his hold, but he had been severely 
 buffeted and was fast losing strength. On
 
 THE CONVICT 231 
 
 again he floated in the wake of the log, which 
 seemed but to clear the way for him, while 
 all around the water roared and tossed itself 
 into great flakes of foam. Then, all at once, 
 something seemed to support him from be- 
 hind, something strong and firm, and a voice 
 shouted in his ear, and though the words 
 were lost, he knew that an experienced swim- 
 mer held him in his grasp, and he knew the 
 swimmer was the convict. 
 
 With a quick movement the rescuer seized 
 an overhanging limb and steadied himself, 
 and in another moment he shot in towards 
 the bank, and his feet grated against the 
 bottom. Yet the danger was not past. The 
 current was strong, and the convict had only 
 one arm free ; but with a powerful stroke 
 he managed to reach a cleft where the back- 
 wash drove him in reach of the shore, and 
 with a great effort his feet rested firmly on 
 the gravel bed. With another stride he was 
 able to steady himself and clamber up the 
 bank, literally carrying the Dandy in his 
 arms. It was a grand exhibition of cool 
 calculation and courage, demanding not only
 
 232 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 great physical strength, but expert swimming. 
 
 He laid the exhausted man in the huge 
 recess of a hollow tree, and used various 
 means to revive him, and also wiped away 
 the blood that was slowly trickling from a 
 wound which he had received in the forehead. 
 While engaged in this process he closely 
 studied the features of this man who had so 
 persistently dogged his steps. Surely there 
 was something familiar, something which 
 recalled memories of an older land. 
 
 The Dandy had not received any severe 
 injury, and very soon recovered enough 
 strength to sit up. He met the convict's 
 gaze. It was certainly an extraordinary 
 situation. 
 
 With a sudden flash the convict realized 
 the truth. It seemed to him that after all 
 these years fate had brought them together. 
 His hands twitched. A sudden desire, almost 
 overwhelming in its intensity, took hold of 
 him, and he made a movement as if he would 
 seize the Dandy by the throat ; but he re- 
 strained himself, and drew back with an 
 exclamation of utter contempt.
 
 THE CONVICT 233 
 
 The Dandy noticed the movement, and 
 tried to smile a sickly grin, as if in his weak- 
 ness he were trying to make some overtures 
 of peace. The convict had seen that same 
 hideous expression years before in the wit- 
 ness box, and he had seen it again when the 
 judge had pronounced the awful sentence of 
 transportation for life. 
 
 The fingers twitched again, and rested 
 like an eagle's claw on the bare throat of the 
 man who had sworn false witness against 
 him. The Dandy's lean fingers closed round 
 the convict's wrists in a weak, quivering 
 grip, while he pleaded, between his quick 
 gasps of breath, for mercy ; but his inarticu- 
 late ravings meant nothing to the man whose 
 life had been ruined to save his reputation. 
 The convict noticed with bitter scorn the 
 expression of agonized fear on the cringing 
 features beneath him, and recognized for the 
 first time the meaning of his pleadings. 
 Then at last, as if with a supreme effort of 
 self-control, he drew back. 
 
 " If I can explain only explain," gasped 
 the man, " you will understand."
 
 234 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 But why should he listen to explanations 
 when through the villany of this man he had 
 suffered years of degradation, herded, like a 
 dumb animal, with the scum of the earth 
 a convict. 
 
 " I have traced you," continued the Dandy, 
 " to tell you what I have done to try to blot 
 out my crime, for which you have suffered 
 so terribly. Day and night I have been 
 plagued with the vision of my cowardice, and 
 I have watched you in my imagination until 
 I could bear it no longer, and have travelled 
 to this corner of the earth to find you. I 
 wanted to make certain," he went on after a 
 pause, " I wanted to be sure that I was not 
 mistaken in your identity, for I intended to 
 leave this country without your knowing 
 that I had been here, and we have met face 
 to face. You dragged me out of that torrent 
 at great risk to yourself, little knowing who 
 I was. And now you know, and you wanted 
 to kill me ; to stain your good name that 
 has never yet been sullied, though you have 
 gone through so much." 
 
 Here the Dandy broke off, utterly ex-
 
 THE CONVICT 235 
 
 hausted with this effort, and put his hand to 
 his head. For some moments it seemed that 
 he had relapsed into unconsciousness, for his 
 eyes had closed and he lay perfectly still. 
 But again he recovered himself, and went 
 on in the same strain. 
 
 " I have learnt that you will gain your 
 freedom in a few weeks." 
 
 The convict did not seem to heed these 
 words, but appeared to be absorbed in deep 
 thought. Could it be possible that this 
 grovelling being was earnestly trying to make 
 some restitution for the awful injury he had 
 done ? Was he endeavouring in his hack- 
 neyed way to restore the convict to a place 
 of honour ? Did he deserve all this con- 
 tempt ? Had he not suffered too ? Yet 
 nothing could blot out the terrible miscarriage 
 of justice. 
 
 " I have done all I can," went on the des- 
 pairing man. " I am ready to expose my 
 guilt and clear your name. That is why I 
 am here. Not to seek your hurt. I have 
 become wealthy, but my wealth is like a 
 burden of crime."
 
 236 TOLD IN THE DORMITORY 
 
 The convict suddenly turned. 
 
 " Enough," he said. Then he made a 
 movement as if he would shut out the sound 
 of the voice that was barely audible above 
 the roar of the torrent. 
 
 " If you do not mean to take advantage of 
 my offer, then do me this last favour, which 
 I beseech you to accept. This station is 
 mine. I have bought it. But to-morrow I 
 shall ride away. You will not see me again, 
 but I have made all arrangements for every- 
 thing to be handed to you when you have 
 won your freedom." 
 
 There was a long silence, broken only by 
 the sullen roar below them. While the con- 
 vict watched the raging torrent, a strange 
 succession of thoughts passed through his 
 mind. It seemed to him as if all the old 
 memories had died away and a new existence 
 beckoned him, an existence wherein his joy 
 would be complete. Why should he desire 
 to expose this man, who after all had acted 
 like a man ? It was his to choose. One word 
 would decide it all, and the Dandy could 
 ride away in the morning with at least some
 
 THE CONVICT 237 
 
 of the remorse lifted from him. He had not 
 asked a recompense, yet he knew how fer- 
 vently the Dandy desired to make this bond. 
 
 When he turned again, the man was 
 standing beside him with outstretched hand. 
 
 " May I go and leave this station in your 
 hands, or must we meet in that awful court 
 again ? It rests with you." 
 
 The convict did not answer at once. He 
 recognized that this man too had suffered, 
 yet in another way, not less bitter than his 
 own suffering he had paid the price of 
 cowardice. 
 
 The convict looked round at all the forest 
 land where the cattle grazed in the rich 
 gullies and on the hillsides. It seemed almost 
 beyond his wildest dreams to suppose it was 
 all to be his. Yet it was true. Then he 
 realized that the Dandy was waiting for his 
 answer, and with a motion of his hand he 
 signed towards the homestead. " Go ! " he 
 said. 
 
 And the Dandy understood.
 
 Printed by Butler and Tanner, Frome and London
 
 A CATALOGUE 
 OF BOOKS 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 THOMAS C. LOTHIAN, 
 
 100, Flindeirs Sii-eel, 
 
 MELBOURNE. 
 
 OCTOBER, 191 1.
 
 INDEX 
 
 PAGE 
 
 ALPHA CENTAURI .......... 6 
 
 ANIMAL PHYSIOLOGY, THE ELEMENTS OF 3 
 
 AUSTRALIAN BUILDING ESTIMATOR ........ 14 
 
 AUSTRALIAN BUTTERFLIES, A GUIDE TO THE STUDY OF . .10 
 
 AUSTRALIAN CRISIS, THE 4 
 
 BELLS AND BEES 6 
 
 BUSHLAND BALLADS ......... 7 
 
 CLARKE'S ELOCUTION INSTRUCTOR ....... 14 
 
 DAWNWARD ........... 5 
 
 DOMINIONS OF THE BOUNDARY ....... 5 
 
 EATING FOR HEALTH ......... 15 
 
 EGMONT ........... 13 
 
 FEDERAL LIQUOR SERVICE, THE ....... 4 
 
 FROM RANGE TO SEA ......... 10 
 
 FROM THE OLD DOG ......... 15 
 
 GINGER TALKS n 
 
 GLIMPSES OF AUSTRALIAN BIRD LIFE ...... 10 
 
 GREAT LONGING, THE 15 
 
 HEART OF THE ROSE, THE ........ 13 
 
 How TO HANDLE A CUSTOMER . . . . . . .11 
 
 KEY TO THE BIRDS OF AUSTRALIA ....... 10 
 
 KEEYUGA COOKERY BOOK 9 
 
 LABORATORY, THE .......... 12 
 
 LAMP OF PSYCHE, THE ......... 12 
 
 LYRICS IN LEISURE ......... 6 
 
 LYRIC MOODS .......... 6 
 
 MOODS AND MELODIES ......... 13 
 
 MOSQUITOES, THEIR HABITS AND DISTRIBUTION . . . .11 
 
 No BREAKFAST ; OR, THE SECRET OF LIFE ..... 4 
 
 NUGGET BOOKLETS .......... 8 
 
 PETALS IN THE WIND .........6 
 
 POEMS BY BERNARD O'Dowo ........ 7 
 
 POEMS OF HENRY C. KENDALL ....... 7 
 
 POEMS OF WILLIAM GAY . . . . . . . .7 
 
 POEMS OF LOVE, LIFE AND SENTIMENT ...... 12 
 
 POETRY MILITANT .......... 5 
 
 PRACTICAL LESSONS IN HYPNOTISM ....... 14 
 
 QUINTON'S ROUSEABOUT, AND OTHER STORIES . . . . .14 
 
 ROSEMARY, THAT'S FOR REMEMBRANCE ...... 13 
 
 SEA AND SKY ...........13 
 
 SEA SPRAY AND SMOKE DRIFT . . . . . . . . 6, 7 
 
 SEVEN DEADLY SINS, THE ........5 
 
 SILENT LAND, THE ......... 5 
 
 THINGS WORTH THINKING ABOUT ....... 13 
 
 USEFUL BIRDS OF SOUTHERN AUSTRALIA ...... 10 
 
 VICTORIAN HILL AND DALE n 
 
 WAYS OF MANY WATERS, THE ....... 12 
 
 WISDOM AND SUCCESS IN ADVERTISING ...... 15 
 
 WOMAN'S WORK . 9
 
 A 
 
 CATALOGUE OF BOOKS 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 THOMAS C LOTHIAN, 
 
 100, Flinders Street, 
 MELBOURNE. 
 
 THE ELEMENTS OF ANIMAL PHYSIOLOGY. By W. A. 
 
 OSBORNE, M.B., D.Sc., Professor of Physiology in the Univer- 
 sity, Melbourne. 152 pages, 64 illustrations. Price 6s.; 
 postage, id. 
 
 In this book an attempt has been made to give an elementary 
 account of physiology from the standpoint of the mammal and 
 with special reference to man and the domestic animals. It is 
 hoped that it may function as a text-book intermediate between 
 the primer and the special manual of human or veterinary physio- 
 logy, and therefore be of use to students of medicine, veterinary 
 science, and agriculture. As the technical terms employed 
 are all defined, and as no presumption is made that the reader 
 has studied chemistry or physics, the book, it is also hoped, may 
 be read with profit by others who may not be entering upon a 
 definite course of professional study. 
 
 In the appendix a number of biochemical data are given for the 
 sake of those who have some chemical knowledge. 
 
 A copy should be in the hands of every intelligent person. It 
 is the latest and best book on the subject. 
 
 " The book is trustworthy and free from errors ; it is specially full on its biochemical 
 side, which is what one would anticipate from Professor Osborne's research work. , , . 
 We wish the book the success it deserves." Nature,
 
 THOMAS C. LOTHIAN, MELBOURNE 
 
 NO BREAKFAST ; or, The Secret of Life. By " GOSSIP." 
 Fourth Edition. Crown 8vo. 94 pp. Antique paper. Attrac- 
 tive cover in two colours. Price is. ; postage, id. 
 
 This is a book that will take you unawares and surprise you, 
 for it is a very human volume. You will ask, after reading it, 
 what all this has to do with No Breakfast, and your answer will 
 show whether you have discovered the secret of the book or not. 
 
 "... a vigorous expression of the philosophy of common sense. . . . The plea 
 is for more simplicity, for moderation in all things." Sydney Morning Herald. 
 
 "... There are few people who will not get some valuable hints from its perusal. 
 Adelaide Register. 
 
 THE AUSTRALIAN CRISIS. By C. H. KIRMESS. Paper 
 cover, 25. 6d. Cloth cover, 35. 6d. 
 
 This is a remarkable novel, and one which has attracted con- 
 siderable attention. It is a most interesting, breezy novel. The 
 light touch of the author, with his striking knowledge of his facts, 
 make the book one which is read easily. It will appeal to all 
 classes, for if the crisis happens as our author foretells (and it is 
 wonderful how closely current events are marching in accord 
 with his forecast), then the sooner we are all prepared the better. 
 Read the book. 
 
 " The object of the author is to expose the danger which may arise from the thinly 
 populated condition of this continent. This endeavour has been carried out with 
 an abundance of ingenuity and industry. By a deeply laid scheme a Japanese Settle- 
 ment, originally trained to pioneer occupation in Formosa, is conveyed to Junction 
 Bay in the Northern Territory and there landed secretly. The theme and purpose 
 of the book deserve attention, and it is written with a sincerity which is attractive." 
 The Leader. 
 
 THE FEDERAL LIQUOR SERVICE. By TULLIE WOLLASTON. 
 
 Crown 8vo. 91 pages. Bound in full cloth, gold blocked. Price 
 2s. 6d. ; postage, 2d. Paper cover, is. ; postage, id. 
 
 " Here in a handy little volume is contained a vigorous argument for Commonwealth 
 control of the retail liquor trade. The writer's style is vigorous and breezy, and the 
 book contains many sweeping assertions with which the majority of the liquor reformers 
 would find fault. Still it is worth reading." The Age, 
 
 " It is a new book really. It breaks new ground. . . . His arguments are very 
 clear and simple. ... It ought to be in everybody's hand." Sydney Stock and Station 
 Journal. 
 
 " It is rare to find an earnest Temperance Reformer who does not call his opponents 
 hard names ; Mr. Wollaston does not." Adelaide Register. 
 
 4
 
 THOMAS C. LOTHIAN, MELBOURNE 
 
 POETRY BY BERN3BD O'DOWD. 
 
 DAWNWARD? By BERNARD O'DowD. Author of "The 
 
 Silent Land " and " Dominions of the Boundary." Price 
 2s. 6d. ; postage, id. 
 
 A few copies of the original limited First Edition, published 
 by the Bulletin Company, are still available. Price on application. 
 
 "The best book of verses yet produced in Australia." T. G. TUCKER, Litt.D. 
 Professor of Classical Literature, University of Melbourne. 
 
 THE SILENT LAND AND OTHER VERSES. By BERNARD 
 O'DowD, Author of " Dawnward ? " " Dominions of the Boun- 
 dary." Bound in half-cloth boards, gilt tops. Price 2s. 6d. ; 
 postage, id. 
 
 A few copies of an Edition-de-Luxe (limited to twenty-five), 
 signed by the Author, are still available. Price 75. 6d. 
 
 " The most arresting work of the younger generation is that of Mr. Bernard O'Dowd." 
 The Times (London). 
 
 DOMINIONS OF THE BOUNDARY. By BERNARD O'Dowo. 
 
 64 pages, art cover. Price is. ; postage, id. 
 
 " Mr. Bernard O'Dowd stands out alone among modern Australian poets." The 
 Spectator (London). 
 
 POETRY MILITANT. By BERNARD O'DowD. An Aus- 
 tralian plea for the Poetry of Purpose. An exceedingly fine, 
 sincere, literary essay. Paper cover, is. ; postage, id. 
 
 "This booklet Is an important contribution to Australian Literature." N.S^W. 
 Educational Gazette. 
 
 THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS. A Sonnet Series. By BER- 
 NARD O'DowD. Small quarto, 56 pp., deckle edged, antique 
 paper. Price 35. 6d. ; postage, 2d. 
 
 This is Mr. O'Dowd's latest volume, and one which can be 
 confidently recommended as containing some of the most remark- 
 able poetical work yet done in Australia. 
 
 "... It is full of thought and vision ... it embodies such a bold and luminous 
 re-valuation of the universe, as we have every right to expect from the true poet." 
 The Herald.
 
 THOMAS C. LOTHIAN, MELBOURNE 
 
 LYRICS IN LEISURE. By DOROTHY FRANCES MCRAE 
 
 (Mrs. C. E. Perry). Antique paper, 84 pages, white art cover. 
 Price is. ; postage, id. 
 
 "... Worthy addition to the growing stores of Australian Poetry." The Agt. 
 "... Vivid and human." Christchurch Press. 
 
 ALPHA CENTAURI. By M. FORREST. Neatly bound 
 
 in cloth ; gold blocked ; antique paper. Price 35. 6d. ', or 
 post free, 35. yd. 
 
 " Gives her a high place among Australian poets . . . unusually keen and clear- 
 sighted . . . brilliant local colouring . . . full of verbal felicities, of picturesque 
 expressions. . . . Every word tells." The Australasian. 
 
 " Mrs. Forrest is not only an exceedingly graceful writer, but an earnest thinker 
 and student of human nature." Sydney Mail. 
 
 LYRIC MOODS. By ROBERT CRAWFORD. Cloth bound, 
 
 35. 6d. ; postage, id. 
 
 " Full of fine thought and feeling, and there is daintiness and finish fa the expression 
 and versification." The Argus. 
 
 " Gracefully written." Sydney Morning Herald. 
 
 " Its outstanding characteristics are wholesomeness and daintiness." The Nat 
 Idea. 
 
 SEA SPRAY AND SMOKE DRIFT. By ADAM LINDSAY 
 
 GORDON. A reprint of this early Australian Classic. Cover 
 in two colours by Alex Sass*. 160 pages, is. ; postage, id. 
 
 A Unique Volume. 
 
 BELLS AND BEES. By Louis ESSON. 2s. 6d. 
 
 This is a unique volume of poetry, dealing with Australian 
 subjects in a new way. 
 
 PETALS IN THE WIND. By HELEN JEROME, is.; 
 
 postage id. 
 
 A graceful book of Australian verses, by an Australian Poetess 
 who has a genuine gift of song. Readers will not be disappointed. 
 
 6
 
 THOMAS C. LOTHIAN, MELBOURNE 
 
 BOOKS BY GRE3T 
 
 A Series for good Australians to buy. 
 
 Bound in the best limp ooze leather. Price is. $d. ; postage, id. 
 
 SEA SPRAY AND SMOKE DRIFT. By ADAM LINDSAY 
 
 GORDON. A Dainty Miniature Edition of Gordon's Classic. 
 
 A delightful volume to handle, and one that makes a present 
 which will please. 
 
 POEMS OF HENRY C. KENDALL. A Selection of this 
 favourite Australian Poet's best work. 
 
 BUSHLAND BALLADS. By EDWIN J. BRADY, Author of 
 
 " Ways of Many Waters." A neat edition containing a number 
 of new, unpublished poems of great attractiveness. 
 
 POEMS. By BERNARD O'Dowo. A neat volume of selec- 
 tions from Mr. O'Dowd's books : The Silent Land Dawnward ? 
 Dominions of the Boundary Poetry Militant The Seven 
 Deadly Sins. 
 
 This Volume makes a good introduction to a poet who is now 
 being quietly recognized as our greatest Australian poet. 
 
 POEMS OF WILLIAM GAY. A carefully made selection 
 from the work of this little known but attractive Bendigo poet. 
 
 PROF. DOWDEH. " Noble in feeling and dignified in expression, each sonnet moving 
 with a grave music towards its close. They are admirable both for thought and work- 
 manship." 
 
 POEMS BY JENNINGS CARMICHAEL (MRS. FRANCIS 
 
 MULLIS). 
 
 A selection of this author's poems. 
 7
 
 THOMAS C. LOTHIAN, MELBOURNE 
 
 THE NUGGET BOOKLETS. 
 
 3 Series of Reprints from the World's Literature. 
 
 Daintily printed, generally in two colours, with attractive art covers, gd. each. 
 Also bound in enduring green ooze leather, zs. 6d. Postage id. 
 
 " Are daintily printed and intelligently compiled." The Bulletim 
 " The handy and neat Nugget Booklets." The Register. 
 
 MAXIMS AND MORAL REFLECTIONS OF THE DUKE DE LA 
 
 ROCHEFOUCAULD (from the French). 
 
 OMAR KHAYYAM, translated by 'EDWARD FITZGERALD. With 
 introduction. On Australian-made paper. This edition contains those 
 stanzas that Swinburne declared were " the Kernel of the Whole." 
 
 " A booklet which will be welcome to many." The Herald, 
 " To be preferred to English editions." The BookfeUoie. 
 
 UNTO THIS LAST, by JOHN RUSKIN. 
 
 With Introduction by Mr. H. H. Champion. 
 
 SWEETHEARTS AND BEAUX, wherein you may learn what 
 tricks the Archer plays, and so, being fore-armed, grow Wise. 
 
 THE WISDOM OF THE FOOLISH AND THE FOLLY OF THE 
 
 WISE, Criticising the Fads and Follies of Society. 
 
 " Got up and printed in the usual attractive manner." The Gadfly, 
 
 NEW THOUGHTS AND OLD NOTIONS. 
 
 A pocket-book of cheerful wisdom. Get one, and be happy. 
 
 THE SUPREME LITERARY GIFT, by T. G. TUCKER, LittD., 
 Professor of Classical Literature in University, Melbourne. 
 The principles of Literary Criticism, a contribution to the foundation 
 of a correct taste. 
 
 "This masterly treatise." The Register. 
 
 " A valuable and stimulating contribution." The Womtn, 
 
 THE MAKING OF A SHAKESPEARE, by T. G. TUCKER, LittD., 
 
 Professor of Classical Literature in University, Melbourne. 
 
 8
 
 THOMAS C. LOTHIAN, MELBOURNE 
 
 The greatest Australian Cookery Book. 
 
 200 pages. Full Cloth. One Shilling and Sixpence. 
 
 Postage id. 
 
 THE KEE/UGA COOKER/ BOOK. 
 
 BY 
 
 HENRIETTA C. McGOWAN, 
 "The Australian Mrs. Beeton," "The Australian Unbeaten." 
 
 Full of good, reliable, new and tasty Recipes. 
 
 SUMMARY OF CONTENTS. 
 
 BACHELOR MEALS. EMERGENCY MEALS. COOKERY FOR CHILDREN. 
 SCHOOL LUNCHES. CAMP LIFE AND WEEK-END COOKERY. HOUSE- 
 HOLD COOKERY. J OINTS. MUTTON. BEEF. LAMB. PORK. 
 VEAL. POULTRY. FISH. SPICED MEATS AND SAUSAGES. CURRIES. 
 INVALID COOKERY. VEGETABLES. VEGETABLE DISHES. FRUIT. 
 FRUIT DISHES. FOR BREAKFAST, LUNCH OR SUPPER. SOUPS. 
 PUDDINGS. PASTRY. COLD PUDDINGS. CAKES. SMALL CAKES AND 
 BISCUITS. BREADS, BUNS, WAFFLES, ETC. SCONES. SANDWICHES. 
 JAMS, JELLIES, FRUIT CHEESES AND PRESERVES. SAUCES, PICKLES 
 AND CHUTNEY. SALADS. DRINKS. SWEETS. GARNISHINGS AND 
 SAUCES. SUNDRIES. WASTE NOT, WANT NOT. 
 
 IN PREPARATION. 
 
 WOMAN'S WORK. 
 
 BY 
 
 HENRIETTA C. McGOWAN 
 
 AND 
 
 MARGARET CUTHBERTSON. 
 
 A handy guide to help all women towards employment, giving full 
 particulars of every profession or trade. 
 
 Price One Shilling. 
 9
 
 THOMAS C. LOTHIAN, MELBOURNE 
 
 Recommended for use by the Educational Departments of 
 Victoria and Tasmania. 
 
 THE USEFUL BIRDS OF SOUTHERN AUSTRALIA, by R. HALL, 
 F.L.S. Crown 8vo, full of illustrations, 312 pages. Price 3$. 6d. ; postage 
 zd. A comprehensive and popular book on the haunts and habits of 
 Australian birds. An ideal book to place in any boy's hands. 
 
 " Mr. Hall's careful treatment of the subject." Nature. 
 " A useful book on an important subject." The Zoologist. 
 
 GLIMPSES OF AUSTRALIAN BIRD LIFE, being a dainty booklet of 
 31 original and unique photographs taken from actual birds in their 
 native haunts by A. C. MATTINGLEY and others. Descriptive notes 
 by ROBERT HALL, F.L.S. Price is. ; postage id. Third thousand. 
 
 " An excellent souvenir to send to naturalists in other lands." Vic. Naturalist. 
 " Unique camera work." The Emu. 
 
 KEY TO THE BIRDS OF AUSTRALIA, by ROBERT HALL, F.L.S. 
 A scientific work dealing clearly with the classification and geographical 
 distribution of Australian species. Price 55. postage 2d. 
 
 Recommended by the Educational Department of 
 Mew South Wales. 
 
 A GUIDE TO THE STUDY OF AUSTRALIAN BUTTERFLIES, by 
 W. J. RAINBOW, F.L.S., F.E.S., Entomologist to the Australian Museum, 
 Sydney. 300 pages Crown 8vo, over 250 illustrations, and a fine three- 
 colour frontispiece (reproduced direct from four brilliant Butterflies). 
 Price 35. 6d. ; postage 2d. A thoroughly scientific, yet popular work 
 for all who deske a knowledge of Australian Rhopaloceran Fauna. 
 
 " An Australian scientific classic." The Register. 
 
 " A model of arrangement and sound work." Publisher's Circular, 
 
 " A useful little book . . . Very well executed." Nature. 
 
 A Charming Book for Nature Lovers. 
 
 FROM RANGE TO SEA : A Bird Lover's Ways, by CHARLES BARRETT. 
 With a special preface by DONALD MACDONALD. A beautiful booklet, 
 dealing in a sympathetic manner with Nature as seen and felt by the 
 author on his rambles. Printed on art paper, and illustrated by 40 
 original photographs taken by Mr. A. H. E. MATTINGLEY. Price is. ; 
 postage id. Australian ooze calf, 35. 6d. 
 
 " A harmonious soliloquy among the birds . . contains a good deal of valuable 
 material." Museum Journal (London). 
 
 IO
 
 THOMAS C. LOTHIAN, MELBOURNE 
 
 HOW TO HANDLE A CUSTOMER, AND OTHER HELPS TO 
 MODERN BUSINESS, by " One Who Knows." Uniform with Nugget 
 Booklets. Price gd. ; postage id. 
 
 MOSQUITOES : THEIR HABITS AND DISTRIBUTION, by W. J. 
 
 RAINBOW, F.L.S., F.E.S., Entomologist to the Australian Museum, 
 Sydney. A neat booklet of 64 pp., well illustrated, dealing with this 
 interesting pest and its extermination. Price is. 6d. ; postage id. 
 
 " A valuable contribution to nature study." The Herald. 
 
 VICTORIAN HILL AND DALE: A Series of Geological Rambles, 
 
 by T. S. HALL, M.A., D.Sc., Lecturer in Biology in the University of 
 Melbourne. 208 pages, with 40 original photographs. Price 3*. ; postage 
 2d. 
 
 This is a most interesting and unique volume and one that will appeal 
 to and stimulate all readers. The matter is fresh and clearly written. No 
 geological knowledge is pre-supposed, and only popular terms are used. 
 
 A Book of Real Importance. 
 
 GINGER TALKS. By W. C. HOLMAN. Price 5s. (postage 
 
 2d.) Crown 8vo., extra cloth gilt, 235 pages with 15 full-page 
 cartoons illustrating the principles of Salesmanship which the 
 " Talks " explain. 
 
 This Volume is essential to every live business man. Fifteen 
 brilliant and fascinating chapters give the most practical course 
 in Salesmanship ever written. The sentences are crowded with 
 epigrams, sharpened with penetrating wit, lighted up with humour, 
 and made vividly alive with the tones of a masterful personality. 
 It is a healthy influence to come under. You will work better, 
 play better, and enjoy life better after reading. 
 
 GINGER TALKS' PREFACE. 
 
 After reading you will send straight for a copy. 
 
 There is gunpowder in every man if you can get only the spark 
 to it. 
 
 There is latent power in every salesman often more than 
 he himself dreams he possesses. All that is necessary is to light 
 the flame of his enthusiasm by showing him his own opportunities 
 and possibilities. 
 
 Do but this much for him, and the hidden gunpowder within 
 him will make him explode into sudden and irresistible action. 
 
 " Ginger Talks " are sparks to reach the gunpowder. 
 it
 
 THOMAS C. LOTHIAN, MELBOURNE 
 
 GOOD POETRY B7 SU5TRALIAN 
 POETS. 
 
 THE LABORATORY AND OTHER VERSES, by W. A. OSBORNE. 
 Small Quarto, Antique paper, printed in two colours. 
 
 Price 2s. 6d. ; postage id. A small collection of fugitive verses by 
 one who is occupied in scientific pursuits. 
 
 " Technique almost perfect, a command of varied styles, grace, restraint." Thi 
 Register. 
 
 THE WAYS OF MANY WATERS AND OTHER VERSES, by 
 EDWIN J. BRADY. Second Edition. Crown 8vo. Illustrated through- 
 out by ALEX. SASS. Price 35. 6d. ; postage 2d. A reprint of this breezy 
 volume of Sea Verse and Chanteys which have won such favourable 
 notice. 
 
 " Brady sings in a lay that harmonizes with the thud, thud of canvas beating as 
 the ship comes into the wind, with the creak and wheeze of block and tackle, and the 
 rattle of the donkey-engine and winches as the loaded slings swing aboard. He tells 
 of wild, roaring nights, when ' th' old man is driving his craft through and over.' 
 In the domain of Australian verse Brady's sea-songs are unique." Queenslander. 
 
 POEMS OF LOVE, LIFE, AND SENTIMENT, by ELLA WHEELER 
 WILCOX. A large Crown 8vo volume, containing the best poems written 
 by this wonderful American. Handsome two-colour cover. Price is. 6d. ; 
 postage id. Also in limp leather, 35. ; postage zd. In attractive cloth, 
 price as. ; postage zd. 
 
 THE LAMP OF PSYCHE, by JOHANNES ANDERSON. 120 pp., 
 Crown 8vo. Antique paper, art paper cover. Price zs. 6d. ; postage id. 
 
 " I consider that ' The Lamp ' is -a lofty, inspiring, gently harmonious, and well- 
 sustained piece of work, and a welcome addition to good Australian poetry." BERNARD 
 O'DowD in The Socialist. 
 
 MOODS AND MELODIES, SONNETS AND LYRICS, by MARY 
 
 E. FULLERTON. An attractive booklet of 64 pages. Antique paper. 
 Price is. ; postage id. 
 
 " Cultured, artistic and neatly turned lyrics . . . sonnets always skilfully wrought 
 and fine in feeling." Scotsman. 
 " Contain many striking lines." Spectator (London). 
 
 12
 
 THOMAS C. LOTHIAN, MELBOURNE 
 
 SEA AND SKY, by J. LE GAY BRERETON. Small Quarto. Edition 
 limited to 500 copies. Price 35. 6d. 
 
 " One of the most purely poetical volumes yet produced in Australia." The Worker. 
 
 " Such careful work, so delicately done, is a rare portent in our vague Australian 
 Sky." The Bulletin. 
 
 " There is nothing whatever in it about horses . . . reflects no little credit upon 
 the condition of poetical culture in Melbourne, and should be read with a hearty interest 
 by lovers of poetry anywhere." The Scotsman, 
 
 EGMONT, by HUBERT H. CHURCH. Crown 8vo, price 35. 6d. 
 
 " The real thing is there, speaking direct from the heart of the writer to the heart 
 of the reader . . . originality as well as charm. ... He is a real poet with a poet's- 
 insight, and a poet's faith in the great things of the Unseen." Otago Daily Witness. 
 
 " True poetry . . . deep earnest thought ... in him New Zealand possesses a 
 poet of whom she may well be pleased." New Zealand Times. 
 
 " A real poet ... to be judged by high standard." Adelaide Register. 
 
 " Melodious and sincere." Argus. 
 
 "... his masculine intellectual strength is making his work memorable." Christ- 
 church Press. 
 
 THE HEART OF THE ROSE. An Illustrated Quarterly for those 
 who love inspiration and imagination in literature. The first number 
 appeared on December 9, 1907, entitled " The Heart of the Rose," and 
 was quickly bought up. This number is now sold at an advanced price. 
 No. 2, " The Book of the Opal," appeared on March 9. The third number 
 is entitled " The Shadow on the Hill," and No. 4, " Fire o' the Flame," 
 is now on sale at all booksellers. The four, numbers, price 55. post free. 
 
 " One finds in the little magazine many things of interest, and some things of real 
 beauty. . . this latest of Melbourne magazines deserves a warm welcome." "Elzevir," 
 The Argus. 
 
 ROSEMARY, THAT'S FOR REMEMBRANCE, by ELENOR MORDAUNT. 
 Author of " The Garden of Contentment." Crown 8vo, 204 pages. 
 Price 2s. 6d. ; postage zd. 
 
 "A REPRINT OF AN EXCELLENT VOLUME." 
 
 THINGS WORTH THINKING ABOUT. By T. G. TUCKER, Litt. D., 
 Professor of Classical Literature in University, Melbourne. A reprint of 
 a volume that deals in a popular way with interesting subjects such as 
 Literature, Science and Education, Culture and Cant, Teaching of Historyi 
 etc. 35. 6d. ; posted, 35. gd. 
 
 " In Australia he should be known as a public benefactor. The volume before us ... 
 being nothing less than a contribution to the Commonwealth." The A then aunt, 
 
 13
 
 THOMAS C. LOTHIAN, MELBOURNE 
 
 A COnPLETE COURSE IN HYPNOTISN. 
 
 PRACTICAL LESSONS IN HYPNOTISM, by Dr. W. W. COOK, A.M., 
 M.D., containing Complete Instructions in the Development and Practice 
 of Hypnotic Power, including much valuable information in regard to 
 Mental Healing, Mind Reading, and other kindred subjects. The 
 chapters include : Philosophy of Hypnotism Qualifications of a Hypno- 
 tist Qualifications of a Subject Favourable and Unfavourable Influ- 
 ences Precautions to be observed How to Hypnotise Degrees of 
 Hypnosis Clairvoyance Self -Hypnotism and Auto-Suggestion Acci- 
 dental Development of Hypnotic Power The Hypnotist's Secret 
 Developing a Subject Animal Magnetism and Magnetic Healing 
 Overcoming Habits by Hypnotism Criminal Hypnotism Hypnotism 
 and Disease Anaesthesia during Hypnosis Hypnotism and the Insane 
 Hypnotising Animals Hypnotism in Business and Society Hypno- 
 tism in the Professions General Hypnotic Influence Post-Hypnotism 
 Awakening a Subject- -Mind Reading and Telepathy Hypnotic 
 Miscellany Self-Anaesthesia Method of Producing Hypnosis, etc., etc. 
 All complete in one illustrated book. Price 55. ; postage id. 
 
 AN INDISPENSABLE BOOK FOR EVERY BUILDER, 
 CONTRACTOR, OR ARCHITECT. 
 
 AUSTRALIAN BUILDING ESTIMATOR. A Text Book of Prices, 
 by WALTER JEFFRIES. 320 pages, strongly bound in cloth, Crown 8vo, 
 with full tables and index. 75. 6d. ; postage zd. This book is written 
 by a practical man, who has had wide and varied experience in the build- 
 ing world of more than one Australian State. The volume is most com- 
 prehensive and complete. His own knowledge of the requirements of 
 the trade is supplemented on many points by the advice and assistance 
 received from many specialistic and professional friends, making the 
 book one that no Builder, Contractor, or Architect can afford to be 
 without. 
 
 QUINTON'S ROUSEABOUT AND OTHER STORIES, by EDWARD S. 
 SORENSON. Crown 8vo, 280 pages, cloth ; with attractive wrapper, 
 by ALEX. SASS. One Shilling ; postage id. A volume of 18 original, 
 fresh and breezy Australian stories that are worth reading. 
 
 CLARKE'S ELOCUTION INSTRUCTOR, a large volume giving in a 
 thoroughly practical manner the latest and best methods of becoming 
 a successful Elocutionist. Many and varied exercises are contained in 
 the course. The author, ARTHUR CLARKE, is well known as a most 
 successful teacher, and it is anticipated that his system of training will 
 be largely adopted. Price 35. 6d. ; postage zd. 
 
 14
 
 THOMAS C. LOTHIAN, MELBOURNE 
 
 THE, SECRET OF OPTiniSN. 
 
 Revised and Enlarged Edition. 
 
 EATING FOR HEALTH. Second Edition. By Dr. ABRAMOWSKI, M.D. 
 (Berlin) of Mildara, Victoria. 156 pages, with two photographs. Price 
 2s., postage, id. 
 
 Australia too long has obeyed the conventions of the old world 
 and has suffered in consequence. She forgets that harmony with 
 surroundings is the basis of happiness. 
 
 This second edition is now ready. It has been thoroughly 
 revised and brought up to date, all the Doctor's latest results are 
 included, and it is confidently felt that the present book is thor- 
 oughly up to date and is the latest word upon Eating for Health. 
 
 This book is written from actual personal knowledge and 
 experience. It is the evolution of a common-sense idea of disease 
 and a natural system for its Prevention and Cure. It is as inter- 
 esting as a novel. Send for a copy and benefit yourself. 
 
 A Suggestive 5ook of Modern Thought. 
 
 THE GREAT LONGING. By ALAN D. MICKLE. 208 
 pages, crown 8vo., full cloth, zs. 6d. (postage, 4d.) 
 
 This book is an ambitious and sincere quest after Truth. The 
 author attempts to describe truly what is, and to read from the 
 tendencies of things what will be. He does not desire to con- 
 vince others of the truth of his ideas, nor does he wish to convert 
 them to his way of thinking. And he does not for one moment 
 believe that a practical, workable social system would be gained 
 if the world of present-day men suddenly agreed to conform to 
 his philosophy. But he believes that readers whose sympathies 
 naturally tend towards an individualistic and aristocratic inter- 
 pretation of life, as opposed to the socialistic interpretation, 
 will find much that is interesting and suggestive in this book. 
 
 A NEW THING IN BOOKS. 
 
 FROM THE OLD DOG. Being a Series of Letters on Politics 
 from an ex-Prime Minister to his Nephew. By FRANK Fox. 
 
 Bright, witty, humorous, instructive. A textbook of White Australian 
 Politics. Price is. ; Cloth Edition, zs. 6d. Postage id. 
 
 " It is a book that should prove of value to the young liberal aspirant for political 
 honours." The Age. 
 
 u The matter is good and so is the style." The Adelaide Register. 
 " It is full of gaiety and wise humour, and more absorbingly interesting than most 
 present-day novels. Amuses and interests in every line." Ballarat Courier. 
 
 WISDOM AND SUCCESS IN ADVERTISING. Enlarged and revised 
 edition. By E. GEWURZ. 
 Price is. Postage id. 
 
 IS
 
 THOMAS C. LOTHIAN, MELBOURNE 
 
 AUTHORS 
 
 ABRAMOWSKI, DR. 
 
 ANDERSON, JOHANNES 
 
 BARRETT, CHARLES 
 
 BRADY, EDWIN J. 
 
 BRERETON, J. LE GAY 
 
 CLARKE, ARTHUR 
 
 COOK, DR. W. W., A.M., M.D. 
 
 CHURCH, HUBERT H. 
 
 CRAWFORD, ROBERT 
 
 DE LA ROCHEFOUCAULD 
 
 ESSON, LOUIS 
 
 FITZGERALD, EDWARD 
 
 FORREST, M. 
 
 FOX, FRANK 
 
 FULLERTON, MARY E. 
 
 GAY, WILLIAM 
 
 GEWURZ, E. 
 
 GORDON, ADAM LINDSAY 
 
 " GOSSIP " 
 
 HALL, R., F.L.S. 
 HALL, T. S., M.A., D.Sc. 
 HOLMAN, W. C. 
 JEFFRIES, WALTER 
 JEROME, HELEN 
 KENDALL, HENRY C. 
 KIRMESS, C. H. 
 McCRAE, DOROTHY FRANCES 
 McGOWAN, HENRIETTA a 
 MICKLE, ALAN D. 
 MORDAUNT, ELENOR 
 O'DOWD, BERNARD 
 OSBORNE, W. A., M.B., D.Sc. 
 RAINBOW, W. J., F.L.S., F.E.S. 
 RUSKIN, JOHN 
 SORENSON, EDWARD S. 
 TUCKER, T. G., LITT.D. 
 WILCOX, ELLA WHEELER 
 WOLLASTON, TULLIE 
 
 Butler & Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Frorae, 
 
 16
 
 '" " in mil inn inn in | mil [|j || 
 
 A 000137462 8