“I grant that,” returned Fred; “but these men are now in the hands of the law, and are entitled to a fair trial.  You are paid for protecting them, as well as apprehending.  Do not let your conscience ever accuse you of murdering a prisoner.”

“You are right, sir,” returned the policeman, with evident respect; “I was foolish to be so moved, and beg you to forgive me.”

“I have nothing to forgive,” replied Fred, amused at the man’s earnestness; “but if you wish to do a really good action, lend Jack and myself aid to bind up the wounds of these poor, grumbling wretches.”

“That I will,” cried the policeman, laying down his carbine, and following us to the bank of the river, where the sufferers were still lying, groaning with pain.

Just as we began washing the blood from their wounds, Murden joined us.  He looked astonished to think that we took so much interest in the men, and after a moment’s hesitancy, said,—­

“I have been trying to arrange with Smith to return to Melbourne with his team, and carry these wounded men and my prisoners.  He refuses to consent until he has obtained your acquiescence in the measure.  I have told him that his goods, which are scattered around here, are nearly ruined by rough handling, and that he will have to sell them at a sacrifice at the mines.  While he is gone, they can be stored at the hut, and sold most any time to travellers at an advance, while, if taken where the market is glutted, he is sure to lose on them.”

We were so much surprised at the communication, that we looked at the lieutenant in astonishment, and for a few minutes did not answer.

“Come, come,” said Murden, with a smile, “don’t look as though you had lost all your friends.  Say you will go with us.  Two weeks’ time is all we ask, and then you can go to the mines in any other part of the island you please.”

“But you forget,” I said, “that we are not rich, and can but ill afford this inactive life.  We came to Australia to make a living, and so far, with the exception of the booty which we captured from Black Darnley’s gang, we have not made a dollar.  Even our prize money will have to be given up to the government, to be returned to its rightful owners, and besides—­”

“There, there, that will do, most honest Americans,” said Murden, with a smile.  “Now listen to me for a moment.  You made a good thing by seizing on what treasure Darnley had.  The government will be too rejoiced at his death to care whether he had money at the time he was killed, or not.  Keep what you have got—­say not a word about it to any one, for if you do, you will be the laughing-stock of all Australia.  The originality of the act would surprise our good people, and you would be looked upon as fit subjects for an insane asylum.”

Fred and myself looked at each other, and I read in my companion’s face that he considered the advice, in our present circumstances, as being sound and rational.