“I happen to know that the owner has gone to bed,” said Tomkinson.
The horseman passed through the gateway, and was about to lead his sweating mount into the stables, when the Sergeant stopped him.
“Which way have you come to-day?” he asked.
“From Bush Robin Creek,” replied the traveller.
“You have ridden right through since morning?”
“Yes. Why not?”
“Did you overtake some men with a pack-horse?”
“No. I passed Mr. Scarlett, after the thunderstorm came on. That was on the other side of the ranges.”
“How did you find the rivers? Fordable?”
“They were all right, except that on this side of the range they had begun to rise.”