The Bushranger's Secret

by Mrs. Henry Clarke

They rode off in different directions that morning.

Gray went on a long round. His ride took him to a distant part of the run, from which he could get a glimpse of the far-off mountains. The peak towering up in the blue air so far above its fellows was Rodwell's Peak. Gray remembered now that Harding had pointed it out to him when they had been together at this spot. He checked his horse and paused for some time gazing at the peak. Close under it was Deadman's Gully! Gray knew well enough how deceptive distance was in that clear air. He knew how far off those hills really were; but the sight of Rodwell's Peak seemed to bring the money close within his grasp, to give the convict's story a reality it had wanted before. It was with a darker face, and a heart overflowing with bitterness, that he left that spot and turned his horse's head homewards.

Harding was not at home when he returned. This was a new cause for vexation, for Gray had to light the fire and prepare the tea, a task he hated. It was with a muttered curse against Harding that he set about it, and he was ready with a very unpleasant greeting for him when he should at last appear.

Gray was very slow and awkward over his unaccustomed work; but tea was at last got ready. Gray finished his meal, and still Harding had not come.

It was getting dark now; the stars were coming out; the wide outlines of the pastures were growing indistinct. Gray went outside the hut and looked searchingly in the direction from which he expected Harding to come. But there were no signs of him.

Up to this point Gray had not even wondered at his lateness; he had only felt annoyed at it. But now a wild thrill went over him. Had something happened? Had Harding met with some accident?

Gray caught hold of the top rail of the fence to steady himself as the thought swept over him. It brought such a throbbing of wild hope with it that Gray recoiled at his own feelings, but the feelings remained. He could not crush them out. He knew—even while the knowledge horrified him—he knew that if Harding did not return, if some dark fate had overtaken him, that he would be glad—yes, glad! For then the secret would be his alone. Then there would be nothing to prevent him from taking possession of the buried treasure.

But it was early yet. He and Harding, Gray reflected, had often been out together as late; only, Harding had said so decidedly that he should be back long before dusk. What could be keeping him?

Gray left the hut and walked for some distance along the grassy plain, but he could see nothing, hear nothing. He "coo'eed" once or twice, but there was no answer. All was dark and still under the starry sky.

He went back, and sat down in the hut and waited. Once or twice he thought of taking his horse and riding out to search for Harding. But that would be of no use, he reflected. Harding had had a wide stretch of country to cover. It was a million chances to one that he could find him. So Gray sat still and waited.