“Throw a tackle over the branch of yonder tree,” he said, pointing to a sturdy gum tree which grew near; “we will save the courts of Melbourne the trouble of trying the fellow.”

The bushranger did not seem surprised, or appear to be affected at the news.

Not so the policemen; they knew that their officer was exceeding his authority, but their discipline was too good to allow them to cavil at his orders, right or wrong.

They threw a rope over the shrub pointed out, and then making a slip-noose, passed it around the neck of the obstinate robber.  Still he wore his scornful look, and did not even ask for mercy, which Murden had evidently anticipated.

“Will you reveal?” demanded the lieutenant.

“No!” he yelled:  and with his refusal was a gesture of the most impudent and insulting nature.

“Up with him, men!” cried the officer, beside himself with passion.

The men tugged at the rope, but with all their strength they could not raise the man from the ground, owing to the cord being passed over a limb, instead of through a block, the friction was too great.

Smith, during all of this time, had been a spectator, instead of an actor in the tragedy; but when he saw that the policemen were unable to carry their designs into effect, he appeared to recollect the death of his oxen, and to think that the present was an excellent time to avenge their death.

He rushed to the rope, and pulled away at it with such good will that the bushranger was raised from the ground a few inches, and by the spasmodic movement of his feet, I saw that he was choking, and could exist but a few minutes longer.

“Are you mad?” I asked of Murden; “you have no authority to hang the man; the courts of Melbourne will make a noise about the matter, be assured.”

The lieutenant appeared to reflect, and seemed to think that my advice was worthy of being taken, for he waved his hand, and the nearly strangled man was lowered to the ground, much to the disgust of Smith, who appeared to think that he was cheated of his prey.

“Once more, I ask you to reveal the hiding-place of the treasure,” the officer said, when he found that the robber had sufficiently recovered to answer his question.

“I refused when a rope was tightened around my neck, did I not?” the bushranger asked, in a gasping manner.

Murden nodded his head in token of assent.

“And do you think that, after being half choked to death, I’ll reveal now?” he demanded, in an indignant tone; “I’ll see you and your cowardly police d——­d first; and sooner or later I know that you will be.”

“Up with him again!” cried the angry lieutenant; but his rage was only momentary, and before the men could put his order into execution, he countermanded it.

“You are too impudent a scoundrel to die immediately; a few months’ solitary confinement in the prison at Melbourne, with nothing but bread and water to eat, and the certain prospect of a long, lingering death, will tame your spirit, and make you docile.”