“Hullo! what’s the row?  Where’s Bimbo?  Stop, will ye?” questions which were not answered, for just then our attention was attracted by a body of mounted men, dressed in the same kind of uniform as our companions, only their clothes did not look so soiled, and their arms were radiant with recent polishing.

At their head rode a fine-looking, stout, red-faced man, who weighed about two hundred pounds, and was a good specimen of a hale, hearty Englishman.

“Hullo, Murden,” he said; “what have you been doing to thus set the city on fire?  Is the news true, that you have had several engagements with Darnley and Gulpin’s gangs, and came out best?”

“Yes, sir,” replied the lieutenant, touching his cap with an air of respect; “I am happy to report that both Darnley and Gulpin are dead, and that their gangs are either killed or prisoners.”

“Why, you have done yourself and the police force great credit, Murden, and I must talk with the lieutenant-governor about settling a pension on you.  But how is this—­do you let your prisoners go at large?” and the speaker pointed to Fred and myself with his riding whip.

“Your pardon, captain,” replied Murden, “but those two gentlemen are Americans, and volunteers of my force, and without their aid I should have come back as wise as I went.”

“Where did you pick them up?” I heard the police captain ask, in a half whisper, as he rode beside the lieutenant.

“Hush, sir,” we understood Murden to reply; “they are easy to take offence, and are different from the majority of people who visit Australia in search of gold.”

“Americans, did you say?” the captain repeated; and as he glanced at us from the corner of his eye, I heard him mutter, “They are not dressed exactly in dinner costume, but there’s a plucky look about the fellows that I like, after all.”

“I’m sure you’ll like them, sir, after you’ve seen something of their Yankee shrewdness,” replied Murden; “if we could only get them to accept of commissions in the police service, I’d pledge my pay for a year that we’d free this part of the country of bushrangers in less than six months.”

“But won’t they join?” inquired the captain, turning completely round in his saddle, where he was riding in advance of us, to get a look at our faces.

“I am afraid not,” replied Murden; “they have got their American ideas of independence, and are as firm set in their notions as our countrymen.”

“I’ll have them yet,” returned the captain.  “I’ll have them dressed up and presented to Latrobe; he is an old courtier, and can wheedle the devil with his tongue.  When we reach the city, see that they are clothed in decent suits, and are provided for.”

Fred, who was riding by my side, overheard the conversation as well as myself.  We looked at each other and smiled, and thought how little the captain knew of the American character, if he thought, we intended to depend upon the bounty of himself or the lieutenant for clothing while we possessed a dollar with which we could purchase for ourselves.