However, one day, as we was sitting on the rails, talking away quite comfortable, we heard one butcher say to another, “My word, this is a smart bit of cattle-duffing--a thousand head too!” “What’s that?” says the other man. “Why, haven’t you heard of it?” says the first one, and he pulls a paper out of his pocket, with this in big letters: “Great Cattle Robbery.—A thousand head of Mr. Hood’s cattle were driven off and sold in Adelaide. Warrants are out for the suspected parties, who are supposed to have left the colony.” Here was a bit of news! We felt as if we could hardly help falling off the rails; but we didn’t show it, of course, and sat there for half an-hour, talking to the buyers and sellers and cracking jokes like the others. But we got away home as soon as we could, and then began to settle what we should do.

Warrants were out, of course, for Starlight, and us too. He was known, and so were we. Our descriptions were sure to be ready to send out all over the country. Warrigal they mightn’t have noticed. It was common enough to have a black boy or a half-caste with a lot of travelling cattle. Father had not shown up much. He had an old pea-jacket on, and they mightn’t have dropped down to him or the three other chaps that were in it with us; they were just like any other road hands. But about there being warrants out, with descriptions, in all the colonies, for a man to be identified, but generally known as Starlight, and for Richard and James Marston, we were as certain as that we were in St. Kilda, in a nice quiet little inn, overlooking the beach; and what a murder it was to have to leave it at all.