proceeded to lash his prisoner's arms tightly behind him with a cotton neckerchief, and to do so effectually he applied a stick in the manner of a tourniquet, using such strength that the handkerchief was deeply buried in the flesh. He then swathed the lower parts of the body of his prostrate victim in a blanket, fastening it so securely as to leave scarcely the least power of motion.
It was some time before Bayley evinced any signs of consciousness; when he did it was by groaning and entreating that his arms might be set free. Meeting with no response, he glanced round the hut, and the color returned to his face as he exclaimed in broken accents, "So they've got me at last: well, I know the worst now.—What! have they the both of us?" he said, as his eye rested on Jarrol, who set rocking himself to and fro upon the ground.
Steeped to the lips in crime as he was, and meditating a greater one than any he had ever committed, Jarrol could not look his questioner in the face as he replied, "The police are not here yet, I am going to fetch them."
"This is a rough joke," said Bayley; "come, come, it is time 'twas over; unloose me, let me go, I am in great pain; come, I know 'tis a joke."
"I'm glad you think so; if swinging is a joke, this is one. To be plain with you, you are a prisoner. I mean to sell you for £200 and my free pardon."
Bayley was stupified for a time, at last he said, "So you can sell the man who saved you?"
"Saved me! what was the use of saving me to remain a bushranger? I must save myself now in reality and be a free man again."
"Ungrateful wretch," said Bayley, "I will not ask my life of you:" as he finished speaking every muscle of his frame
