There was no use talking to him when he got into this sort of humour. He was the most mad, reckless character I ever came across, and any kind of checking only seemed to make him worse. So I left him alone, for fear he should want to do something more venturesome still, and went on with my packing and getting ready for the road.

We fixed up to start on the Monday, and get as far away the first couple of days as we could manage. We expected to get a good start by making a great push the first day or two, and, as the police would be thrown off the scent in a way we settled—and a good dodge it was—we should have all the more time to be clear of New South Wales before they regularly dropped that we were giving them leg bail for it.

The Sunday before Starlight started away by himself, taking a couple of good horses with him—one he led, and a spare saddle, too. He took nothing but his revolver, and didn’t say where he was going, but I pretty well guessed to say good-bye to Aileen. Just as he started he looked back and says—

“I’m going for a longish ride to-day, Dick, but I shall be here late if I’m back at all. If anything happens to me my shares of what there is I give to her, if she will take it. If not, do the best you can with it for her benefit.”

He didn’t take Warrigal with him, which I was sorry for, as the half-caste and I didn’t hit it well together, and when we were by ourselves he generally managed to do or say something he knew I didn’t like. I kept my hands off him on account of Starlight, but there was many a time my fingers itched to be at him, and I could hardly keep from knocking some of the sulkiness out of him. This day, somehow, I was not in the best of tempers myself. I had a good lot on my mind. Starting away seems always a troublesome, bothering sort of thing, and if a man’s at all inclined to be cranky it’ll come out then.