'What's up?' asked Dick eagerly, as Parrot crept into the drive.
'Oh, I say,' gasped Parrot, 'youse fellers are in fer it!'
'How? Who split? What're the troopers doin'?'
'They're after youse.'
'After us!' Peterson's face paled at this corroboration of his worst suspicions.
'My oath! Gable's in gaol at Yarraman; Phil an' Jacker an' Ted's been took, an' now they're after you.'
Fer what?'
'Rob'ry under arms, the feller said, an' shooting with intent' r somethin'.
Dick whistled incredulously. Here was fame, here was glory. His favourite authors were justified, and yet there was the dark side; thought of his mother came with a sharp twinge.
'Who went an' split—Ted?'