“I knew that it would be useless to return to the city and ask for assistance, and in fact, to tell the truth, I didn’t want to be laughed at, as I knew that I should be after telling my story.  So on I went, running with all my might after two men, either of whom was a match for me in a fair hand to hand fight.

“At length I caught sight of the murderers, and I redoubled my speed; and as I ran I placed fresh caps upon my pistols, and prayed that they would not disappoint me in my extremity.  The villains saw me close at their heels, but they did not stop, supposing, of course, that I was backed by my men.  Once or twice I saw Darnley look over his shoulder as though calculating the distance between us, so that I was not much surprised when he stopped suddenly, and aimed his undischarged pistol at my head.

“That act stopped me in double quick time, for I had heard accounts of Darnley’s proficiency with the pistol, and I thought I would exchange shots with him instead of coming to close quarters.

“I think that I owe my life to the speed with which Darnley had been running, and I am certain he escaped from the same cause, for when I raised my pistol I could hardly hold it in a straight line.  We fired both at the same time.  I felt something strike my side that appeared to burn like a coal of fire, and when I put my hand to the spot it was soon covered with blood.

“I staggered and fell; but even as I did so, I looked towards the bushranger to see if my shot had taken effect, I heard him exclaim,—­

“‘Hang him, he’s hit me on the shoulder.  I’ll murder him for it!’

“‘And get kotched by the beaks vile doing so!’ rejoined Steel Spring, who appeared more anxious for flight than for blood.

“I remember seeing the ruffian start towards me, and then all was a blank until I awoke in the hospital at Sydney, where, by the way, I was obliged to stay for two weeks before I could get the physician’s consent to let me return to Ballarat, and nearly three more passed before I was a well man.”

“Did Darnley strike you after you fell?” asked Fred.

“He had no time, as I was afterwards informed.  Just as he advanced towards me, the fellow I had outstripped appeared in sight, and the bushranger evidently thought that it was better to beat a retreat.”

“And the gold, did you recover that?”

“Not a penny’s worth, with the exception of that in the bank on deposit.  I found out the relatives of the men murdered, and sent it to them, and very glad they were to get it.”

“And the miner who escaped—­where is he?”

“Here in Ballarat, a dissipated, shiftless wretch.  The loss of his gold ruined him, for he has not had ambition enough to do a day’s work since.”

“Is the inspector here?” cried a man, thrusting his head into the tent just as Mr. Brown had concluded.

“Yes; what is wanting?” the little man asked.