FINDING only one man following, Jim Done ceased running on reaching a
clump of trees, and presently he was joined by the young Australian who
had aided him.
'My colonial, you sprint like an emu!' gasped the latter. 'All the same,
that was a mad sort o' thing to do.'
'What was?'
'Why, showin' yourself 'bout here with the cheek of a dashed
commissioner, while there's five hundred on your head, hot or cold, live
or dead, an' every trooper in the country whim' to give his long ears to
pot you.'
'But you are quite wrong; I'm not this Solo.'
'Not Solo! That won't wash. Wasn't I there with Long Aleck when you got
away with the gold Hoban hid in our nosebag other side o' Geelong?'
'You're on the wrong scent. My name is Done. I'm a new chum, landed only
this morning off the Francis Cadman.'
'Here, let's look you over again.' The stranger struck a match, and,
shielding it with his hands, examined Jim's face. 'Dunno,' he said, 'but
p'r'aps you are a bit young. Still, rig a beard around that chiv of
yours, and it's Solo to the life.'
'If it's worth while, walk down to the ship with me, and I'll satisfy you
in two minutes.'