For some months I didn't get a word of praise from the superintendent. He expected a good deal from me, and I suppose got it. I had worked in Melbourne and in the country, on foot and on horseback, but I had still my spurs to win. My chance came through Governor La Trobe, who was a man, every inch of him.
There was a bushranger at this time who had been painting the country with blood, and who was more like the devil incarnate than any man I ever heard of. He was nicknamed "Thunder-and-Lightning"; why I never knew, but, I suppose, because there was a flash and roar from his Colt's revolver and his victim lay dead on the ground.
This man, or devil, had committed many murders with tigerish ferocity. He was the terror of more than one goldfield. Blood-curdling stories were told of him by the camp fire when the work of the day was done. He was execrated, and a reward of £500 was offered for his capture. The regular police did their best, I admit, but any man who was wanted gave them a wide berth when he saw their rig. They were a uniform failure. When they were about "Thunder-and-Lightning" took a holiday, and played round the mountain-tops. Sometimes a splash or crack was seen or heard, when he was shooting in some almost inaccessible place, where rocks, trees, and scrub, in about equal proportions, hid him like a needle in a haystack.
When the police were as sick of him as the whale was of Jonah, they gave him up.
It was then the Governor took the matter in hand. He was a man who tried to manage all the Government departments with his own head and ten fingers, and did it well. Sir Charles heard of me, and said to our superintendent, when they were talking over the "Thunder-and-Lightning" case, "Try Wallace."
Now, my name happens to be Wallace, and I was christened William, after William Wallace the hero of Scotland; a long way after, I grant you, but there's something in a name, although we fought in different fields.
Next morning the superintendent rang his bell, and told the messenger he wanted me.
"Shure ye're wanted," said Pat Kineen, the messenger.
"What for?" says I.