If sticking up the Goulburn mail made a noise in the country, you may depend the Ballabri bank robbery made ten times as much. Every little newspaper and all the big ones, from one end of the colony to the other, were full of it. The robbery of a bank in broad daylight, almost in the middle of the day, close to a police station, and with people going up and down the streets, seemed too out-and-out cheeky to be believed. What was the country coming to? “It was the fault of the gold that unsettled young fellows’ minds,” some said,“and took them away from honest industry.” Our minds had been unsettled long before the gold, worse luck. Some shouted for more police protection; some for vigilance committees; all bush rangers and horse-thieves to be strung up to the next tree. The whole countryside was in an uproar, except the people at the diggings, who had most of them been in other places, and knew that, compared with them, Australia was one of the safest countries any man could live or travel in. A good deal of fun was made out of our locking up the constable in his own cell. I believe he got blown up, too, and nearly dismissed by his inspector for not having his revolver on him and ready for use. But young men that were any good were hard to get for the police just then, and his fault was passed over. It’s a great wonder to me more banks were not robbed when you think of it. A couple of young fellows are sent to a country place; there’s no decent buildings, or anything reasonable for them to live in, and they’re expected to take care of four or five thousand pounds and a lot of gold, as if it was so many bags of potatoes. If there’s police, they’re half their time away. The young fellows can’t be all their time in the house, and two or three determined men, whether they’re bush-rangers or not, that like to black their faces, and walk in at any time that they’re not expected, can sack the whole thing, and no trouble to them. I call it putting temptation in people’s way, and some of the blame ought to go on the right shoulders. As I said before, the little affair made a great stir, and all the police in the country were round Ballabri for a bit, tracking and tracking till all hours, night and day; but they couldn’t find out what had become of the wheel-marks, nor where our horse tracks led to. The man that owned the express waggon drove it into a scrubby bit of country and left it there; he knew too much to take it home. Then he brought away the wheels one by one on horseback, and carted the body in a long time after with a load of wool, just before a heavy rain set in and washed out every track as clean as a whistle.