They gave Joe time to rid himself of the pests, and returned to the fire. Nobody now disputed the right of ownership to the log, for it was fairly alive with ants. Joe was sore all over and in a bad temper, until some one offered to give him some whiskey to rub in his wounds. Joe bargained he should drink it in preference, which he did and was soon restored to good-humour.
For the second time the five people who are on the search for one another found themselves in each others' company and were unaware that this was the case. The two men with swags were the boys. They had left their trap in charge of a man camped half-a-mile down the creek, and disguising themselves a second time, in order not to be recognized by Joe, appeared as tramps. They had started for Chinchilla, but missed the road and had not found out their error until they had gone some fourteen miles out of their way, when they met a tramp who told them. Picking him up, they returned to the creek, hoping Wyck might have come back for his buggy.
When Wyck's buggy broke down he was in a terrible rage, but he did not take long to form fresh plans and, having told Joe enough to put him on his guard, he went on his way, but not to Chinchilla. When the boys drove up, he was hidden in a hollow log about twenty paces away, where he could see and hear all that took place. Joe was up to snuff and sent the boys on what he considered a wild-goose chase. When he had let the boys get fairly out of sight Wyck walked along the road in the hope of coming across a Jew hawker, whom a horseman had told him was travelling that route. Nor was he disappointed, for Abrahams came in sight. A five-pound note was exchanged, and Abrahams agreed to take him and his buggy back to Dalby. Wyck then got up alongside the driver. Although he was very uneasy, he had no idea his enemies were so close to him, neither had Hil any conception who the man was she had shewn how to unharness the horses. Wyck had palled up with Joe in the train, and retained him to shew the way. Joe in return had improved Wyck's get-up, so that he now looked quite the bushman, as he lounged by the fire.
In the interval between the yarns all had been spinning, Wyck said to Abrahams, with a wink:
"Wonder how that poor devil is getting on?"
"Which, that fellow who owned the trap?"
"Yes. He'll never see Chinchilla to-night, if I'm not mistaken."
"Where did you meet him?" asked Joe of Abrahams.
"About two miles from here."
"What was he like?"