The Girl Who Helped Ned Kelly

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 752, 27 August 1929, Page 5

The Girl Who Helped Ned Kelly

By

CHARLES E. TAYLOR

£ Copyright ] _ -» _i. ii A *Vio monl

CHAPTER XVII (Continued) ‘'Course she is. And Xita’s in lo\e with you." “Did Nita tell you that? Jack asked, with quickened pulses. “No, she didn't, but I can see it. She's been ljke that ever since you came here.” “No. Nita isn't in love with me. She might be in love with Ned Kelly, though." _ Frank snorted. ‘'Hugh: Don t you know Ned's sweet on my cousin. Jennie O'Donnell? She and Uncle Joe live over near McCullagli s. ’ Jack's heart sang for joy. For many Teasons he hated to think that Nita might be infatuated with the notorious outlaw. Only tragedy could result from such an attachment. He felt sorry for the other girl, but he t'as glad for Nita’s sake. And for his own? Yes, lie was glad for himself. There were times when he felt that life without Nita would be a blank. There were other times when he was sorry he had ever met her. Was Frank right when he said she loved him?” “Perhaps 1 oughtn’t to have told you these things,” said Frank. “They’re Quite safe with me, old chap. I say. where’? your revolver?” “I’ve got it planted in the shed. Why?” “Take my tip, and get rid of it. It might tempt, you again. Throw it away where it won’t be found. If the police discovered it. they might ask awkward questions.” “By God. I will! I’ll try to be Patient Jack; but it hurts —it hurts like hell!” “That’s the spirit!” cried Briant, slapping him on the shoulder. Frank hung his head shamefacedly. “I—l don’t know* why you’re doing this tor me —after what I tried to do to you.” “I’ve forgotten that long ago, so don’t let it worry you. I’d hate to think you were nabbed for trying a hit of amateur bushranging. Give up the silly idea of making money that "ay. It can’t be done. Now, let’s Set that wood ready for tomorrow.” Briant was strangely silent at tea that night. Nita asked him what was "tong, and he said he had a head- i ache. “Poor boy!” she smiled sympathetically. “I think I’ll get off to bed early,”

he announced at the end of the meal. “That’s right,” Jacobson approved. “Nothing like a good rest for a headache.” Jack did not go to bed, however. Instead, he gathered his scanty belongings together in a bundle, crept cautiously across the yard, and disappeared into the night. CHAPTER XVII. THE OUTLAWS’ HIDING PLACE There was consternation at Jacobson's next morning when Jack failed to appear and investigation proved that his bed had not been slept in. Only Julie was' unperturbed; indeed, her expression showed that she was relieved rather than dismayed. She sneered at her sister's troubled face. “Oh, Julie, he didn’t even say goodbve!” cried Nita, chokingly. “Good job,, tool” snapped Julie, walking away. “I can't make it out,” Jacobson remarked. “He didn’t say anything about going—at least not since he agreed to stay the other day.” “He worked like a nigger yesterday afternoon, getting the wood ready for today,” Frank told them. "He must have made up his mind all of a sudden. I suppose he’s all right.’” Fear gripped Nita’s heart, but she did not speak. “Serves you right for taking on any stranger who asks for a job!” Julie sneered. “I suppose you’ll find all sorts of things missing when you look round.” “You mustn’t say that!” cried Nita, a hurt expression in her eyes. "But I did say it, and I’ll say it again.” Jacobson regarded his daughter in amazement. “But. I thought you liked him, Julie?” “So I did until ” “Until you thought he was a policeman, eh?” cut in Frank. * Well, he isn’t.” Julie turned upon her brother fiercely. “You’ll see whether he isn’t when Sam Jackson and Mrs. Jackson and all the rest of us are arrested!” “Well, I happen to know he isn’t,” Frank persisted. “That’s ail!” Julie was unconvinced, however. “If i you're all fools enough to believe a I swaggie knows what the police down in Melbourne are going to do. I don't. I thought you had more sense.” Two days passed without tidings of On the third day Frank, -e----turning’ from Benalla, brought in a letter. "Here's something for him, he said. “Looks flash, too.” Nita almost snatched it from him. ! It was a high quality envelope, and ] the writing was a woman’s. With a j little sob she put it on the mantelpiece i and left the room. It remained there for a whole day. It seemed to have a peculiar fascina- ; tiou for Nita, who never entered the ! room without examining it. Once, ! with anger in her heart, she was about

to , it into the fire when Julie’s sudden appearance deterred her. “Still nursing his letter!” jeered her sister. “I suppose it’s from one of his swell lady friends in Melbourne. I knew he was only playing with you. Open it and see what a fool you’ve been!” “Open it! Open it!” These words sang in Nita’s ears all day. Her conscience rebelled at the suggestion, yet saying good-bye. Why should she consider him? With trembling fingers she tore the envelope, and noted the embossed address at the head of the paper. Through a mist she read: My Own Jack, — Your uncle lias given me your address, and I am writing to implore you to come back. It was all a terrible mistake. Why did you leave me, dearest? lam still yours. Oh. how I want you, Jack! Write at once and say you are returning to me. I shall count the hours till 1 hear from you. Your loving, but heart-broken. Jessie. Nita read it again, and each word stabbed her deeper than before. Then, with blazing eyes, she tore it, envelope and all, into little pieces and threw them into the fireplace. “Hullo, where’s the precious letter?” asked Julie, coming into the room a little later. “I—l burnt it!” Nita’s distress was so pathetic that her sister’s heart melted. Julie threw an affectionate arm around her. “I’m sorry, sis, I didn’t mean the nasty things I said to you. Forgive me, dear.” Nita did not cling to her sister and find relief in tears, as most girls would have done. Instead, she said, in a voice that contained not the slightest trace of emotion, “One hates to have one's ideas shattered, and I'm afraid I acted like a fool. All the same, I don't share your ideas about Jack and the police.” She was now the Nita who had so often puzzled Briant —coldly impersonal —and there was no trace of the feeling which, a few minutes before, she had betrayed. Even Julie, accustomed to her changing moods, was amazed. “I wish I could hide my feelings like you can,” she observed. “I am not hiding them.” “Oh, don’t be silly. When I came in you were nearly crying, and now you’re talking as if Jack were nothing more to you than a stranger. What was in the letter?” Nita told her. “There you are!” cried Julie, triumphantly. “I knew he wasn’t straight.” “Don’t say that. Because a woman who evidently loves him has written asking him to come back it does not mean that he is a policeman in disguise. It does show why he came to the bush, though. I'm sorry now I burnt the letter.” “Surely you wouldn't give it to him if you could?” Julie’s eyes were wide with surprise. “Of course. It may mean his future happiness, i'll try to find him and let him know what she said.” Julie could not understand such magnanimity. * “If I loved a man do you think I’d give him up like that?” she asked, almost fiercely. “Not if a hundred other women wrote asking him to come back! I'd fight for him against them all!”

There was a lot that was frankly elemental about Julie Jacobson. Nita smiled a little wanly. “You take it for granted that I love Jack Briant?” Julie’s astonishment was written on every feature. ."You’ve got me beaten,” she said, as though it was useless further to try to understand her strange sister. “Still,” Nita went on, “I’d like to know where he is at this moment.” “That’s an easy one. Back with his loving Jessie, of course.” Julie’s guess was much wider than she imagined, however. At that moment Jack was crouching in the undei’flrowth at the foot of the ranges, intently watching the movements of a girl who left the little hut that nestled amid the trees. As a matter of fact, he had been watching that hut for two days and two nights. She carried a half-filled sugar-bag and was coming his way. As she drew nearer he noticed how her redbrown hair glinted in ' the sun. Her eyes seemed bluer than when, a pathetic figure of abject fear, she had burst dramatically into Jackson’s hut. Though shorter, she bore some resemblance to her cousin Nita. She had the same purposeful poise, the same confident air. She left the track and began to ascend the hill which stood between the hut and the ranges proper. Cautiously, Briant followed at a safe distance. Once or twice he lost sight of her, but later discovered her picking her way among the boulders half way up the rise. She disappeared behind the rocks, and when, a minute or two later, she came into view again, she was empty handed. Jack watched the hut door close behind her before he moved. Then he followed the track taken by the girl until he found himself in the middle of a curious rock formation—a circle of giant boulders evenly spaced by apertures less than two feet wide. Through one of these holes he squeezed. Inside was a circular patch of flat ground, hare in places and grassed in other places, to which the sun had access between the boulders. It was a natural fortress, which only needed strengthening between the rocks to make it impregnable. The boulders varied in height from ten to fifteen feet, and the ground enclosed by them was roughly twelve feet in diameter. There was no sign of the bag w hich Jennie had left there. Briant searched every possible hiding place without success. He knew there was food in it, and that was what he mostly needed. He had taken some tinned stuff and some biscuits with him when he left Jacobson’s —-provisions he had bought in Benalla as an emergency ration against just such an adventure as that upon which he was now engaged. All that food had gone, however, and he was feeling ravenously hungry. He turned over every stone it was possible to movj, searched in every crevice that could conceal anything, and examined the earth to see whether it had been disturbed. For a long while he continued to search, hunger adding vigour to the quest. He had not expected that the mission on which he was engaged would last as long as it had, and consequently his provisions had run out. For several reasons he did not wish to seek food at any of the homesteads, the main one being that he was anxious not to be seen by anyone. Now there was nothing to do but wait. For the rest of the day he crouched there, well hidden in the scrub, but in a position from which it was impossible to miss anyone who might visit the rocky hiding place. It was a tedious vigil, but eventually it was rewarded. Just as darkness liad thrown the ring of boulders into

ghostly relief the figure of a man emerged from the undergrowth, halted, looked round cautiously, and then squeezed through the aperture between two of the rocks. He reappeared soon after, carrying the bag which all of Briant's efforts had failed to find. Jack followed him as lie climbed the bill. The wind favoured him, but for all that he picked his way very carefully. Twice the man in front stopped suddenly and looked round him, and each time Jack dropped down among the undergrowth. Suddenly he disappeared. When Jack reached the spot he found himself confronted by a semi-circular clump of stunted trees, the trunks growing closely together, and the undergrowth between them so thick that he could not find an opening. He worked his way round them to the right, and came upon a solid wall of rock, at the end of which was a dizzy precipice. Possibly there was an opening on the left. Cautiously he investigated. Again he found himself faced by rock. It was as If Nature, in a playful mood, had fashioned a theatre, the arc of timber representing the auditorium, and the rock formation the sides of the proscenium. What was on the other side of the trees? There must be some way of getting through them, even by the light of the stars. Several times he failed, but at last, after bruising himself and tearing his clothes, he penetrated the jungle. Fearing that a false step might mean disaster, he worked his way with infinite care. Presently he heard voices, which suddenly ceased as he stumbled and snapped a dry bough that he had clutched for support. After what seemed hours to Briant, who crouched in a cramped and pained position, the talking was resumed, and he crept further forward. It was possible to move only by inches at a time, but presently he came upon a narrow track. That it was man-made was obvious from the cut boughs that lined either side of it. It was too dark to see them, but as he groped his way he could feel that the leaves were dry. The track took a sudden turn, and before he realised it he had come to the end of the timber and was standing on the edge of a small plateau At the same instant he was confronted by four men, each with a levelled revolver in his hand. “It’s all right —don’t shoot!” he cried, as he stepped forward to meet them. One of them picked up a lantern, half of which was covered by a black cloth, and held it close to Brian’t face. “What are you doing here, boy?” demanded the familiar voice of Ned Kelly. “I told you I’d come some day, and I'm here,” Jack answered. “How did you find your way?” There was a trace of irritation in the outlaw’s voice. “Followed you.” “We ought to shoot you!” snapped one of the others. “That wouldn't do much good.” laughed Briant. “I told you I wanted

to help you, Ned, and now I’m going to.” The other three were talking in undertones, and from chance words which he caught Jack could tell that his intrusion was resented. ‘‘First of all I’m hungry enough to eat the four of you,” he went on. ‘‘What have you got to eat? What was in the bag, Ned?” Ned did not reply, and one of the others remarked: “He knows too damn much.” Ned Kelly joined the other members of the gang, and for several minutes they talked earnestly. Then they came over to Briant. “As you’re here, you’d better stay till morning, at any rate,” the leader said. “Then you can go back —on one condition.” “I know what that condition is.” Jack retorted. “You’re a fool, Ned Kelly!” Briant heard the bushranger’s surprised intake of breath. “Are you going to let him talk to you like that?” Dan demanded. Jack laughed. “Ned ought to know I’m square. Still, I suppose I can’t blame him for being suspicious. I found this place by hiding in the bush for two days. Do you think I'd have come alone if I wanted to trap you?” “What about Costello?” broke in Steve Hart. So the gang were familiar with that incident, too. How perfect was their Hall's Sulphur and Sarsaparilla Salts. A great Spring and Summer Tonic, In the form of an effervescing and delightful drink. Large bottle posted for 3s.—E. W. Hall, 117 Armagh Street, Christchurch. 2

organisation which kept them so well posted! “Y~es, what about Costello?” It was now Joe Byrne who spoke. “I'll tell you all I know about him later on. First of all, I want something to eat.” “Food’s hard enough to get for ourserves,” grumbled Dan Kelly. “Oh, 111 get you plenty more,” Briant assured them. “Look here, the longer we talk the hungrier I’m getting, so don’t let us waste any time, or there won’t be any left for you fellows.” “I wouldn’t like to have to eat you, anyway,” observed Byrne—“you’re hide’s too tough!” Jack laughed. “Well, as the Chows say, ‘No cheek, no Clismas box.’ ” The lantern was placed on a flat rock, and into the small arc of light which it gave Ned set out the contents of the bag—a huge piece of corned beef, pickles, bread, butter and cheese. He cut five junks of beef and liberal helpings of bread, and opened the pickle bottle. “There you are,” he said. It was a curious meal. The five of them were in darkness except for the lantern light and the light which the stars afforded, and they ate in silence. Ned, he noticed, carried his leadership even to the extent of ration ing the provisions. Never had food tasted sweeter to Jack than the rough fare which he held in his fingers, and devoured with the relish which acute hunger induced. “By Jone,” he exclaimed. “Wouldn’t a billy of tea go good now!”

“How can we light a fire?” said Dan, irritably. “You can if you know the way.” “And have a mob of troopers down on us,” growled Hart. “It’s easy to light a fire if you go the right way. Do you mean to say you never have anything warm?” i “Only when we go to our friends,” j replied Ned. I “Well, tomorrow I’ll show you how to do it. Any of you like a small i wager?” There was no i r ponse. “I was going to say that I’m willing to bet you’ll all have hot meat and tea tomorrow —that is if you’ve got any tea . and sugar.” ; “Plenty,” said Ned. • “All right. Are there any takers?” “But I said you were going back tomorrow,” Ned reminded him. i “And I said I was going to stay. • i laughed Briant. Dan Kelly made an impatient gesj ture. “1 suppose you’ve come to | show Ned how to run this show?” | “Ned’s shown he can do that very j effectively. Still, there might be j some things that I could show him. i As you don’t have tea regularly it is ; nretty clear you don’t know how to j conceal a fire.” ! “Jx>ok here/* Byrne interrupted, “what were you going to tell us about Costello?” ! (To be continued tomorrow)