"Good morning, sir," said Nic. "Here, Rumble--rumble! Come here, both of you! Hi, Samson! Shut these two dogs up in one of the sheds."

"Yes," said the visitor, "or there'll be a fight." Then, as Sam came running up and relieved Nic of his task of holding the pair by their black frills, "Will you be good enough to walk a little way from the house, young man? I want a word or two with you."

"He can't know I was there," thought Nic; and he walked beside the visitor's horse till it was checked, and the rider looked down sharply at the boy.

"Now, young gentleman," he said, "I don't want to quarrel with your father's son, but I am a man who never allows himself to be played with.

You played me a pretty trick last night."

"I, sir? How?"

"Do you want telling?"

"Of course, sir."

Nic felt the magistrate's eyes piercing almost into his very thoughts; but, at the same time, he saw those armed men and that pack of dogs ready to hunt down the convict, and if he could avoid it he was determined not to say all he knew.

"You came over to my place last night and broke a way out for that fellow to escape."

"I did not," said Nic firmly.

"Do you mean to tell me that you did not bring over a handcuff key which your father has, and climb in at the roof and unlock the bracelets?"

"I do tell you so!" said Nic. "I did not know we had such a thing."

"On your word as a gentleman?"

"On my word as a gentleman," said Nic. Then to himself: "If he asks me if I came over, I must say Yes."

"Then I beg your pardon," said Mr Dillon. "But you have him here?"

"No," said Nic, "he is not here."

"I must ask your men. Will you summon them?"

"The blacks too?" said Nic.

"Yes, all of them, please."

"Hi, Sam!" cried Nic, as the old man banged to and fastened the door where he had shut up the dogs. "Call Brookes and the blacks; then come here."

"Right, sir," said the old man; and Mr Dillon went on:

"He got away somehow, and the dogs were after him till the storm spoiled the scent."

"Then you can't flog him," said Nic in triumph.

"Not this morning, of course," said Mr Dillon good humouredly. "All right, my young friend, you'll come round to my way of thinking."

"Never," said Nic firmly.

"That's a long time, squire. But don't you look so satisfied. You really do not imagine that our friend can get away?"

"There's plenty of room," said Nic.

"To starve, my led. But, mark my words, if we don't run him down this morning, he'll come back before long to ask for his punishment, if the myall blacks have not speared him and knocked him on the head."

Just then the men came forward, and the magistrate's attention was taken up, so that he did not see Nic's shudder.

"Oh, Brookes," said Mr Dillon, "that fellow broke out and ran for the bush last night?"

"What?" cried the man, changing colour.

"Has he made you deaf?" said Mr Dillon. "Your Leather got away last night. Have you seen him?"

"No, no," said Brookes, who looked unnerved. "But you'll run him down, sir?"

"Of course. And you, Samson?"

"No, sir, he hasn't been back here. Here, you--Bung, Rig, Damper: have you seen Leather 'smorning?"

"Plenty mine see Leather chop rail."

"Yes, yes, that was yesterday. 'Smorning?"

The three blacks made a peculiar sound, and threw up their chins.

"No good, Belton," said Mr Dillon. "Back to the bunya clump. I have an idea that he struck off there, so as to keep up by the river. Don't care to mount and come and see a convict hunt, squire, I suppose?" said the magistrate inquiringly.

Nic gave him a furious look, and Mr Dillon nodded good humouredly and rode after his men, the dogs beginning to bark as they started back, to be answered by Nibbler and the collies, who thrust their noses under the bottom of the door.

"Won't take them big stag-hounds long to hunt him down," said Brookes, trying to hide his nervousness with a grin.

"Think they'll catch him, Sam?" said Nic.

"Well, sir, it's just about like a pair o' well-balanced wool scales,"

said the old man rather sadly. "Dogs has wonderful noses of their own.

But there, I 'spose we shall hear."

Nic went off to the stables, for he had not the heart to go indoors.

And as he stood by his horse the desire came upon him strongly to mount and ride after Mr Dillon's party, so as to know everything that happened, but he felt that it might appear to the poor fellow that he was with the party trying to hunt him down, and he stayed and hung about the station all day.

"Bung," he said toward evening, "you like Leather?"

"Plenty mine like damper."

"No, no; I mean did Leather ever knock you about?"

"Baal, no. Budgery (good)."