Storyteller.

Southern Cross, Volume 1, Issue 27, 30 September 1893, Page 13

Storyteller.

GENTLEMAN GEORGE. A BTJ SEIRAN GIN Gr EPISODE. (By Reginald Horsley, in Chambers’ Journal.) £ “ Gentleman George ” is over the border, Sergeant.’ ‘ You don’t say so, sir !’ ‘ It’s a fact. The chance you have been waiting for is come at last. He stuck up the bank at Rjosewood and put a bullet through the manager’s head. You know that ? ‘ Yes, sir, that was his first murder, I believe.’ ‘ Yes, his hands were clean of blood up till then; but they all come to it some time if they are out long enough. —How long has Cardale been out?’ Cardale was the almost forgotten surname by which ‘ Gentleman George ’ had been known in days gone by. ‘ Three years,.sir,’ I replied. ‘ Three years, good measure.’ ‘Ah! well it is time he was stopped. X suppose he finds Victoria a trifle too hot for him after his rumpus, so he has crossed over to us for a while.’ ‘ Is your information reliable, sir ?’ ‘ Quite. Foster saw him at Billabong yesterday, and wired.’ ‘ Foster ! Why didn’t he take him, then ?’ The chief smiled. ‘As well ask the bird why it did not catch the rat. No, no ; there is only one man on our side I expect can do that.’ And he looked at me and laughed. ‘ Meaning me, sir?’ ‘ Meaning you, Sergeant Sparks. ‘ I’m sure I’m much obliged, sir.’ ‘Well, then, see that you justify my good opinion. But you have a wily customer to deal with, Sergeant. Three years out, by Jove ! And those Melbourne side troopers are no fools. ‘I expect I have got my work cut out, sir.’ ‘ I imagine you have. Now then, off with you at once; get the latest description of the fellow from Foster, and follow him up. It will be five hundred pounds in your pocket if you take him. And mind,’ added the Chief impressively after a pause, mind, it is dead or alive. Report to me on your return.’ I saluted, and withdrew, and ten minutes later was galloping in the direction of Billabong. Five hundred pounds ! It was a big reward; but I tell the honest truth when I say that just then I thought more of the honour and glory of getting the man than the money. For three years the Victorian troopers had been after him, and the best of them had never come next to near him. Sometimes they might get a glimpse of him, but that w r as all; and once out of sight, George, who was every inch a bushman, could laugh at the lot of them. His mare was a flyer, too, a sort of Australian edition of ‘Black Bess,’ and the distances the two of them covered now and again were almost incredible. There wasn’t a township in Victoria where the bank manager didn’t live in dread of a visit from George; and there wasn t a newspaper in the country that didn t abuse the police for their failure to take him, and get off leather-headed opinions as to the way in which it ought to be done. However, it never had been done; and for all their smartness, the troopers never had a show. I expect they were heartily sick of the very name of ‘ Gentleman George,’ and heard of his crossing the border with no little satisfaction. I know I did, for I had heard so much about him that I positively ached to have a slap at him. And now I was actually out after him. No wonder I felt a trifle more excited than usual. If I could manage to nab him at the first try, what a feather that would be in the cap of the New South Wales police ! At Billabong I found Foster —in plain clothes. “ Why, what’s up P “ Where’s your uniform P” I asked him.

Foster grinned uneasily. “ Ask George,’ he said.

‘I will that,’ I answered, ‘if ever I come up with him. Do you mean to say he’s got it ?’ ‘ He has so,’ replied Foster ruefully; and my horse and saddle into the bargain.’ I roared, laughing. ‘ Well, I’m blest if that doesn’t beat cock-fight-ing,’ I cried. ‘ Got your horse too. But where is his mare ?’ ‘ How should I know ? Got a bullet in her somewhere, very likely. Anyhow he was riding a sorry beast enough.’ ‘ Tell us all about it,’ I said. ‘ Well, began Foster gloomily —for he was very sensitive to chaff, and this was not the first mistake he had made by a long way —‘ I was over’ at Rogers’s about those sheep he lost last week’ —this I knew to be Foster’s euphemism for taking a drink, but I did not interrupt him. ‘ My horse was hung up outside,’ he went on, ‘ and we were talking away, when, all of a sudden, in walks George as cool, as you please. ‘ Keep your seats, gentlemen,” says he, laying a sixshooter on the counter; “keep your• seats, or there’ll be trouble.” We kept ’em. “ What! Were you not armed ?’ “ No. Why ? All was quiet our way. I had no notion George was over the border till he dropped in on us.’ “ It is always well to be prepared for surprises,’ I said. ‘ Well ?’ ‘Well, I recognised him at once, for I lived down his way before he took to the bush. Presently he stared at me. ‘Why, it’s Foster,’ says he. ‘ Hulloa, Foster !’—‘Hulloa, George !’ says I. ‘ What’s up ?’— ‘ You’re the right man in the wrong clothes,’ says he; ‘ they don’t suit you a little bit. Take them off and hand them over to me ’ —‘ What do you mean ?’ says I.— ‘ Well,’ says he, mighty polite, ‘ I’m sorry to inconvenience you, but I’ll trouble you for your uniform. That’s what I mean.’ ‘ And you gave it to him ?’ ‘ What could I do ? There was no use in swallowing lead for nothing.’ ‘ What happened then ?’ ‘ He tucked the uniform under his arm, made Rogers give him a nobbier, which he drank off, filled his flask out of the bottle, and turned to the door.’ ‘ And you let him go without a word ?’ ‘ Oh, I gave him words enough, you bet; but he only laughed ; and when he got outside, he* jumped on my horse, and says he: “I’ll borrow your nag' as well, Foster, as you are so pressing.” And with that he rode off.’ I laughed again. ‘Well, he is a cool hand,’ I said. ‘ Which way did he go ?’ ‘ North-east, in the direction of Forty Mile Creek,’ replied Foster; and proceeded to give me a full description of the bushranger. ‘ Well, good-bye, old man,’ I said when he had finished. “ I’ll bring back your uniform with George inside it, I hope. Meanwhile, I’d advise you not to talk too much “ sheep ” to Rogers, or you may come to grief. So long !’ ‘ A mighty smart trick that,’ I thought as I rode along. 1 A trooper riding through a bush township is no such uncommon sight. I expect I’ll have some trouble to strike Master George’s trail.’ And so it proved during the next week, for though I daresay I was often close behind him, and though I made the most minute and searching inquiries in the various townships I passed as to the appearance of any troopers who had preceded me, yet I never once got any satisfactory information, and I was beginning to despair of ever coming up with my man, when at last, and quite unexpectedly, I did so. ‘ Clever Capture,’ the newspapers called it. Bosh! It was sheer luck, and nobody ever heard me blow about it. If it had not been for piece of superb insolence on his part and a fortunate accident on mine, I might very well have missed him altogether. It was about one o’clock one afternoon that I rode, up to the homestead on Toomburra, the owner of which

station, Mr Ingram, or ‘ the Squire,’ as he was usually styled, I knew very well. I came in by the back way, and was riding towards the stables, when I noticed a horse hung up, to a post by one of the outhouses. I glanced carelessly towards it as I went by ; and then, as my eye took in the details, I jumped hastily out of the saddle, and hitching my horse to a sapling, ran hard across the intervening- ground. My heart thumped against my ribs from excitement as I saw that my impression had been correct. The strange horse carried a regulation saddle and bridle, and bore the Government brand! ‘ Gently,’ I said to myself. ‘lt won’t do to jump at conclusions ; this may not be Foster’s horse after all.’ Then I examined the holsters. One was empty, but from the other I drew out a revolver—not regulation. I breathed more freely ‘ That’s better,’ I muttered ; ‘ he’s got the other on him for a certainty; I’ll make sure of this one at any rate;’ and I drew the cartridges and slipped the weapon back into its case. Then I went swiftly round to the front of the house, and, sheltering myself behind the creepers which grew thickly over the verandah posts, peered cautiously into the dining-room through the open window. They were all there, the Squire, his wife and daughter, and a young son home for the holidays. But there was some one else, a strapping fellow in police uniform, whose features, as he sat with his back to the window, I could not make out. ‘ I don’t know him from this side,’ I said to myself; ‘but he seems to be on capital terms with the Squire. What if I have made a mistake ?’ And then I remembered the pistol in the holster, and was comforted. Making my way round to the back again, I entered without ceremony, and g'oing noiselessly along the passage, paused for a moment at the dining-room door. There I halted and looked in, and, in the rapid glance I shot at the handsome trooper who was evidently the life and soul of the party, I recognised, by certain peculiarities of feature which Foster had described to me, the man I was after, the redoubtable George himself. I took in the situation in an instant. ‘ By jingo,’ I grinned to myself, ‘ isn’t he a daisy ! ‘ What magnificent cheek!’ Just then—of course it happened in a much less time than it takes to tell —the squire saw me and jumped up with a loud outcry. ‘ Sergeant Sparks !’ he roared, upsetting his chair in the fervour of his hospitable greeting. ‘ Bravo ! Are there any more of you ? We’ll have the whole force here presently. Come and have some dinner. That’s right.’ And he pushed me into a chair opposite the stranger, whose behaviour ever since my entrance I had carefully watched out of the corner of my eye I must say it was remarkable. His face never changed at all, only I noticed that, as the squire called out my name, his hand dropped from the level of the table to his belt. That was all: otherwise he sat perfectly still; and then, seeing that I took no manner of notice of him, he X’esumed his dinner and nodded pleasantly as the Squire, good easy man, with no notion of ‘ treason, plots, and stratagems,’ introduced us to one another. ‘ You won’t know Merton, I expect, Sergeant,’ he said. ‘ He’s from the Melbourne side on special duty.’ How bluff is a game that two can play at, and, besides, I didn’t want bullets flying round the room while the ladies were in it, so I answered quietly : ‘ Indeed. Secret service ?’ ‘ Oh, dear no !’ said my soi-disant comrade, in an extremely pleasant voice, and with an amount of manner, which, if he were really ‘ Gentleman George,’ plainly showed how he came by his sobriquet. ‘ Oh, dear no ! not at all. I’m out after “ Gentleman George,’ who skipped from our side after that shooting affair at Rosewood lately.’ I wasn’t ready: for that, I confess, but I managed to keep a straight face as I replied —‘ Are you really ! Then

We can look him up together, for I am out after him too.’ ‘ Gad ! ’ said the Squire, ‘ he shouldn’t get very far with two such chaps as you after him.’ ‘ Ah,’ said my opposite neighbour, * I’ve heard of the prowess of Sergeant Sparks. Who hasn’t ? I think we ought to be sure of our man. Two hundred and fifty apiece, Sergeant, eh p’ and he looked at me and laughed. ‘ Yes,’ I admitted, carelessly, 1 if we get him. But I don’t seem to hear the money jingling in my pockets yet, anyway. Do you know George by sight ?’ I continued, not looking at him, as I poured out a glass of claret. ‘Ra-ther,’ he returned, laughing again. ‘Do you ?’ ‘ Unfortunately, no,’ I answered. * I’ve only a somewhat imperfect description to go upon. However, with your help ’ ‘ And your own well-known cleverness,’ he complimented. ‘ Thanks,’ I said, smiling in a pleased fashion. “ Well, we shall see. Have you been here long ? ’ T added. ‘ Ho, I rode up just about dinnertime, and Mr Ingram insisted on my stopping. I bunked at Waratah last night.’ Ratal error! I lowered my eyes so that he might not see the triumph that shone in them. Waratah was a station some five-and-twenty miles away, and I had spent the previous night there myself. I was certain of him now ; but it was no part of my plan to let him see it. The conversation grew general again, and I will say a better tablecompanion than Merton I never met. He laughed and jested, told a score of excellent yarns, and certainly no one could have suspected that he sat there with a price upon his head, and within a foot or two of a man who was sworn to take him dead or alive. I must admit I admired the fellow, he was so •cool. Presently there came a lull in the flow of talk, and Merton rose from the table. What a remarkably handsome man he was, and what a splendid chest and shoulders I I was not by any means a chicken myself, but I felt if we came to grips he would have the best of me. Therefore, I determined not to give him the chance. ‘ Excuse me, Mr Ingram,’ he said ; * I’ll just take a look at my horse and be back again directly.’ ‘ Do you think of going on at once,’ I queried. ‘Well,’ he returned, ‘as I didn’t know what might happen, I hung up my horse outside ; but now that you have turned up, I’ll stable him for an hour or so while we discuss the best thing to do.’ ‘ Right you are,’ I said; while to myself I added : ‘ Catch me let you reach your horse, my good fellow.’ Then I went on aloud : ‘ I’ll take the ©addle off my beast as well.’ By this time he had reached the door, from which a long and narrow passage led to the back entrance. I let him get a little way before I rose, for I wanted him well in front of me, and then, after a hurried whisper to Mr Ingram, ‘."it still, Squire, whatever happens,’ I bounded into the passage after my quarry. He had not suspected I saw through him, that was evident, so I was on him with the muzzle of my revolver pressed against the back of his neck before he had time to turn, even if it had occurred to him to do so. ‘ Throw up your bands,’ I cried in a low voice. ‘ Quick! or I’ll drop you in your tracks.’ He threw up his hands slowly. ‘You are mad,’ he said. ‘ What do you mean ?’ ‘ I’ll apologise afterwards, if I’m wrong,’ I answered. ‘Meanwhile, keep up your hands.’ As I spoke, I rapidly unclasped his belt, and threw it with the revolver in it as far behind me as I could. ‘How,’l said, ‘march straight on, and .’ But the fight wasn’t out of him by any means, though I had him at such disadvantage. With extraordinary quickness be ducked, and then, .turning swiftly round, he struck up so fiercely at my

right hand that the pistol exploded, the ball burying itself somewhere in the ceiling, as the weapon sailed through the air and dropped some yards behind me; while at the same moment I received a blow on the chest, delivered with such tremendous strength that I reeled right back into the dining-room. The moment I got to my feet I rushed after George, who had of course made good his escape by the back door and gained his horse. By the time I got outside he was off, and I saw him sailing over the slip-rails like a bird. ‘ So long, Sparks, old man,’ he shouted to me. ‘ You had a good try for it, but you won’t collar the five hundred this bout.’ ‘ Won’t I,’ I yelled after him wrathfully, as I flung myself on my horse.— ‘ What’s up ?’ roared the Squire, rushing madly out.-— ‘ Gentleman George,’ I howled back as I popped over the slip panels and raced away over the flat on the bushranger’s track. George knew all about riding, I soon saw, for, short as was the start he had got, he made the most of it. We kept the same distance between us for about ten miles, and then, though I knew the pace was too hot to -last, yet George’s horse was fresher than mine, and I saw that I was losing ground. ‘ I must stop him,’ I muttered. ‘ If once he reaches the Long Scrub, he’ll dismount and get clear away. So I shouted : ‘ Halt, George, or I’ 11 fire.’ I don’t know whether he heard me or not, for he kept straight on ; so I let drive at him. It seemed to me that he swayed a little in his saddle, but I could not be certain, and only those who have tried it know how difficult it is to hit a mark when one is going at racing pace. Presently he reached for his holster and drew out the revolver I had replaced. He saw in a moment what had been done, and flinging the weapon aside with a violent gesture, he rode on for dear life. And now the edge of the Long Scrub came in sight. I drove the spurs into my horse and sent him along for all he was worth. George heard my cries of encouragement, looked round once as a second bullet from my revolver whistled over his head, or buried itself in his body, I could not tell which, and with a yell of defiance, urged his horse into a yet more furious gallop. Hearer and nearer we drew to the scrub, and the pace was tremendous. The strain was telling fearfully on both horses, and it was evident that neither of them had much more running left in them. George’s was labouring fearfully, despite the savage spurring of his rider ; while my own faithful roan was sobbing with distress as he struggled gamely, but in vain, to overtake his fellow; and now the goal was very near, and still George thundered on. Would he beat me ? I ground my teeth together, and called on my horse for one last effort. Gallantly the poor brute responded, and I felt him spring beneath me as he put all his noble heart into the struggle. Hurrah ! I was gaining. But, oh, how slowly. It w r as a question of time, of endurance, and : ha ! look at George ! Was I blind with excitement, or was he reeling in his saddle P Hearer and nearer —five minutes more and he will be there. Three are gone —four—he is there ! And then for one moment I seemed to see him sway from side to side—-the next, I was hurled through the air like a bolt from a bow, as my horse, putting his foot in a treacherous hole, came headlong to the ground. Eor some minutes I lay there stunned ; and then, struggling again into consciousness, I tried to rise. But it was no use ; my left leg was broken, and I sank back with a groan. Fifty yards away, I saw George supporting- himself on one elbow and looking at me. “ Are you hit, George ?’ I called out. ‘ Yes,’ he answered ; ‘ somewhere in the shoulder. I lost so much blood

I couldn’t keep my seat. What s wrong with you ?’ ‘ Leg,’ I replied laconically. ‘ Surrender George.’ He laughed. ‘ What! to a man with a game leg! Hot I. Besides, what for? You would nurse my wound well again, and then hang me. Ho, no; I know a trick worth two of thatand he began to crawl slowly and painfully towards a point somewhere to my right, not, to my surprise, in the direction of the scrub. I watched him for a moment or two as he dragged himself laboriously along. ‘ What are you at ?’ I shouted at last, puzzled by his strange behaviour. He never answered, but with his eyes fixed apparently on some object which I could not see, held straight on his course, his breath coming and going in deep shuddering sighs from the dreadful effort the exertion cost him. ‘ Whatever can his game be ?’ I wondered, as, screwing myself round with difficulty, I followed the direction of his intent gaze. I saw it all now ! What a fool I had been not to think of it before ! Plainly outlined against a tussock of grass by which it had fallen was my revolver which had been jerked out of my hand as I fell. That was what George was making for. I wasted no time in words, you may be sure : I wasn’t going to lie there to be shot like a dog, and, cursing my own folly, I started to crawl' towards the revolver on my own account. I had somewhat the best of it even now, for though George was a little nearer the tussock than I was, yet he was fearfully weak, and more than once he fell over on his side, labouring painfully for breath. But, oh !it was torture for me. Lines of red-hot fire ran up and down my leg, and my very heart ached with the intensity of the pain. The agony was horrible, and over and over again I stopped and sank groaning on my face. But the dreadful issue at stake nerved me, and I held on. I glanced at George and shuddered, for he was awful to behold. His right arm hung useless by his side ; but with his left hand he clutched the grass, or dug his nails into the soil as he dragged himself along-, or sank upon his stomach and wriggled forward like a great snake. Great drops of sweat stood out on his forehead and rolled down his cheeks ; his teeth were set, and his face, deadly white from the loss of blood, wore a look of fierce determination as he rallied after each desperate effort. All at once, in the midst of that ghastly crawl, I heard the sound of hoofs far away. I never looked round, but I knew what it meant, and a thrill of hope shot through me. ‘ Give it up, George,’ I cried breathlessly. ‘ The Squire and his men are coming. You’ve no show, even if vou do shoot me.’ Hot a word said George, only he kept straight on. Hearer and nearer came the thunder of the galloping horses, and nearer and nearer we drew to that deadly revolver, as we laboured along, panting’, g-asping, groaning, gnashing. Hearer and nearer —-I could hear the Squire’s shout borne faintly through the clear air. Hearer still, and my heart began to throb exultantly as I realised I was the closer to the goal, when all of a sudden I felt as if all the pain in the world had concentrated itself in my leg. I could not go on, and for one moment at least I had to lie still ; and that moment gave George the advantage, for as I looked up again, he had reached the revolver. But the terrible strain he had undergone overcame him, and in the very act he sank swooning to the ground. Another instant and it would have been in my grasp, when, with a dying effort, George writhed forward. Our hands met with a shock ; but before I could seize his wrist, he snatched the revolver, and with a gigantic heave, rolled over out of reach and lay still. Groaning -with pain, I slewed myself round. The Squire and his men were not far away now, and coming on like demons. If I could only reach George before he revived! But it was useless; exhausted nature gave way, and I sat

still and despairing. On came the Squire, shouting like mad. In a moment we should hesurrounded: in a moment the danger would be past. Hurrah! I tried to shout, but my parched throat refused its office, and the word died away in a cracked shriek. On thundered the Squire—a couple of hundred yards more and—just then George stirred, heaved a long, shuddering sigh, and sat bolt upright, the blood gushing from his mouth and nose, and the revolver tightly clasped in his hand. I saw it was all up, and steadied, myself, determined to meet my fate like a man. Behind me I heard the Squire, In front of me sat George, holding the reoviver, and looking deathly as he swayed unsteadily to and fro. Suddenly he spoke, roused by the shouts that were now almost in our ears. ‘ I’m done for,’ he gasped. ‘lf it were only you, I’d have a breSk for freedom; but there are too many. Look here, Sergeant. I was born a gentleman—l’ve come down a good deal but I’ll die like one. You shan’t put the rope round my neck. You shan’t.’ He raised the revolver to his head, and then, catching sight of my amazed face, he lowered it again and broke into a low gurgling laugh. ‘ Why, bless you, Sergeant,’ he said, ‘it was for myself—not for you. So long ! So ’ There was a sharp report, and, even as the Squire leaped from his reeking horse and rushed forward, ‘ Gentleman George ’ fell on his face and lay still—still for ever, this time. Yes, they took me back to Toomburra, and nursed my leg well again, and I got the reward; but, somehow, whenever I remember George, I am glad he got hold of the revolver first.