lower paddock the day afore yesterday," mumbled Uncle Abe, "but one
of 'em was one of the Coxes' boys, I think."

At the sound of Uncle Abe's voice both women started and paled, and
looked as if they'd like to gag him, but he was safe.

"What were they like?" asked the constable.

The women paled again, but Uncle Abe described them. He had
imagination, and was only slow where the truth was concerned.

"Which way were they going?" asked the constable. "Towards
Mudgee" (the police-station township), said Uncle Abe.

The constable gave his arm an impatient jerk and dropped Uncle Abe.

Uncle Abe looked as if he wanted badly to wink hard at someone, but
there was no friendly eye in the line of wink that would be safe.

"Well, it's strange," said the sergeant, "that the men we're after
didn't look up an out-of-the-way place like this for tucker, or
horse-feed, or news, or something."

"Now, look here," said Aunt Annie, "we're neither cattle duffers
nor sympathizers; we're honest, hard-working people, and God knows
we're glad enough to see a strange face when it comes to this lonely
hole; and if you only want to insult us, you'd better stop it at once.
I tell you there's nobody been here but old Jimmy Marshfield for three
days, and we haven't seen a stranger for over a fortnight, and that's
enough. My sister's delicate and worried enough without you." She