He watched it till it vanished, and then kept his gaze riveted upon the place of its disappearance.
He knew that the natives of Australia were dangerous people, that sometimes they play highwaymen with deadly effect, and now and then leave their victims lying in the sun with an arrow in their hearts.
Old Broadbrim looked keenly at the spot he had selected, and at last saw a bit of white rag floating over the grass.
It looked like a signal, and he regarded it some time in deep reflection.
What did it mean, and was it a decoy?
By and by he rode toward the object, and at last drew rein just out of arrow shot.
The little flag dropped as suddenly as it had come into view, and then a man, half-naked, zigzagged through the grass toward him.
Old Broadbrim waited, with his hand on his revolver.
In a little time the man arose and stood erect—a tall, wiry, dark-skinned native, with great black eyes and a shock of raven hair.
He sprang to where the detective was and rested his large hand on his knee.