'That's queer,' said Jim. 'A strange horse galloped into the yard with my mob yesterday during the storm. I wonder if he belongs to Mr Shaw.'
'You don't say so!' exclaimed Ned.
'Yes, I do; and, what's more, the brute would have made short work of me had not Fred Doonan arrived in time.'
He then explained to Ned what had happened.
'If he's such a savage horse,' said Ned, 'I shouldn't be at all surprised if the man did not let him go through sheer fright and now wants to cast the blame on someone.'
'That's probable,' said Constable Doonan. 'I'm going round by Potter's and will make inquiries. In the meantime, Jim, I would ride over to Cudgegong and let Mr Shaw know about it.'
'I'll go to-morrow,' said Jim.
Doonan took his departure, and soon afterwards Ned, much to the relief of his two passengers, clambered into the box seat and continued his journey.
Next morning it was still raining, but Jim Dennis cared little for this, in fact was glad of it. He saddled Bess and rode over to Cudgegong, a distance of about fifteen miles.
The mare revelled in the good going, and the already green grass gave way beneath her feet. It was a luxury that had not befallen her for many a day, to gallop on yielding ground.