“What little game are you up to, mister?”

The inquisitive man looked at him keenly.

“Is your name Hawkins?” he asked.

“Suppose it is!  What does that matter to you?” demanded Ned, mechanically guarding his speech for future contingencies.

“It’s all right, my friend,” replied the other, with a chuckle.  “I’m no policeman.  If you’re Hawkins, I’ve a message for you.  Show me your credentials and I’ll give it.”

“Who’re you, anyway?” asked Ned.  “How do I know who you are?”

The inquisitive man stopped a uniformed porter who was passing.  “Here, Tom,” he said, “this gentleman wants to know if I’m a union man.  Am I?”

“Go along with your larks!” retorted the man in uniform.  “Why don’t you ask me if you’re alive?” and he passed on with a laugh as though he had heard an excellent joke.

“Hang it!” said the inquisitive man.  “That’s what it is to be too well known.  Let’s see the engine-driver.  He’ll answer for me.”

“The other’s good enough,” answered Ned, making up his mind, as was his habit, from the little things.  “Here’s my credentials!” He pulled out his pocket-book and taking out a paper unfolded it for the inquisitive man to read.

“That’s good enough, too,” was the stranger’s comment.  “You answer the description but it’s best to be sure.  Now”—­lowering his voice and moving still further from the peopled part of the platform—­“here’s the message.  ’Dangerous to try going through Brisbane.  Police expecting him that way.  Must go overland from Downs.’  Do you understand it?”

“I understand,” said Ned, arranging his plans quickly.  “It means they’re after me and I’m to dodge them.  I suppose I can leave my portmanteau with you?”

“I’m here to help you,” answered the man.

“Well, I’ll take my blankets and leave everything else.  I’m a Darling Downs boy and can easily get a horse there.  And when I’m across a horse in the bush they’ll find it tough work to stop me going through.”

“You’d better take some money,” remarked the man, after Ned had handed out his portmanteau.  “You may have to buy horses.”

“Not when I’m once among the camps,” said Ned.  “I can get relays there every few miles.  I’ve got plenty to do me till then.  How do you fellows here feel about things?”

“Our fellows are as sound as a bell.  If everybody does as much as the miners will you’ll have plenty of help.  We don’t believe everything the papers say.  You seem a cool one and if the others will only keep cool you’ll give the squatters a big wrestle yet.”

So they talked on till the train was about to start again.

“Take my advice,” said the man, drawing back further out of hearing and putting the portmanteau down between them, “and get a cipher for messages.  We had to arrange one with Sydney during the end of the maritime strike and that’s what they’ve used to-night to get the tip to you.  If it wasn’t for that the other side would know what was said just as well as we do.  Now, good-bye!  Take care of yourself!  And good luck to you!”