"Shall I see you again?" asked the lad. Somehow everybody who met Ned wanted to see more of him.
"My name's Hawkins," replied Ned. "Ned Hawkins. Ask anybody in the
Queensland bush about me, if you get there."
"I suppose you're one of the bushmen," remarked the lad, pausing. "If they're all as big as you it ought to be bad for the blacklegs."
"Why, I'm a small man up on the Diamantina," said Ned laughing. "Which is the way to the park?"
"Turn to your right at the end of the alley, then turn to the left. It's only five minutes' walk."
"Thanks. Good-bye!" said Ned.
"It's thank you. Good-bye!" said the lad.
They shook hands and parted. In a few minutes Ned was in the park. He stepped over a low railing, found a branching tree and decided to camp under it. He pulled his boots off and his coat, loosened his belt, put boots and coat under his head for a pillow, stretched out full length on the earth and in ten seconds was in a deep slumber.
He was roused a moment after, it seemed to him; in reality it was nearly six hours after—by kicks on the ribs. He turned over and opened his eyes. As he did so another kick made him stagger to his feet gasping with pain. A gorilla-faced constable greeted him with a savage grin.
"Phwat d'ye mane, ye blayguard, indaycently exposing yersilf in this parrt av th' doomane? Oi've as good a moind as iver a man had in the wurrld to run yez in. Can't ye find anither place to unthdress yersilf in, ye low vaygrant?"