if it cost us a fight—devil or no devil, it's all one to hungry men."
"No: I saw no stores," said the man who, for the present, we shall call the Scout: "but I saw a face there, which by some strange fascination, reminded me of a gallows."
"Some of our own kidney?" inquired the other.
"No: not so. The gallows I thought of was for myself."
"You white-livered coward," said the first, "you are fit for nothing but the gallows: it will be only a natural death for you. Tell me what makes your flesh tremble on your bones and the muscles of that ugly parchment face of yours twitch as if the rope was already round your neck."
"Don't talk so loud nor so disagreeably," said the Scout, "one sleeps not far off who would hang us all."
This information was not received without surprise.
"He can," repeated the Scout, "if we leave him the chance. His father helped to transport me. I should like to see him shot, and should not mind doing it myself just to get my hand in," and his voice trembled as he spoke.
"Bravo! old parchment face," said the one who had taunted him with cowardice: "shoot him from behind, lest his gallows face should spoil your aim."
After the conversation already narrated, they fell back some distance from the sleepers, but the Scout returned by himself.
Dodge was at all times a light sleeper, and it happened that he had turned out to make up the fire, when he detected the sound of human voices floating down upon the night air. With a mind more alive to bailiffs than bushrangers, he left the fire untouched and crawled to a tree a few yards away from his sleeping-place, where the glare of the embers did not interfere with his scrutiny of surrounding objects. He had not long
