CHAPTER LVIII.
“GEORGE, I want you to go to Bathurst.”
“What for?”
“To buy some things.”
“What things?”
“First of all, a revolver; there were fellows about our tent last night, creeping and prowling.”
“I never heard them.”
“No more you would an earthquake—but I heard them, and got up and pointed my revolver at them; so then they cut—all the better for them. We must mind our eye, George; a good many tents are robbed every week, and we are known to have a good swag.”
“Well, I must start this moment if I am to be back.”