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THE AUSTRALIAN EMIGRANT.
95

reached me that a limb of the law was working down my road. Three days after he arrived in my neighbourhood. I met him about a mile from my station—much too near to be pleasant. He was like every other bailiff you may have seen — there's an unmistakeable likeness in all the breed—they don't alter much anywhere. He looked as if he could have cut a pocket out for the sake of the rag; but as I have not worn pockets for many years, I had no fear on that score. "Mr. Giles Dodge, I believe," he said, coming close alongside me; but this was all guess-work, for I had never seen the man before in my life."

"Well," said I, "you are complimentary, stranger, this morning; and do you really take me for that notorious old scoundrel, do you? Why, do you know I wouldn't like to bear his name, much more his character,—there now;" and I turned away highly offended.

"I beg your pardon," said the man, for the mistake; "but may be, you can just pint out to me the way to his station.—The fact is, I've a got a little matter here for him, and I'll stan suffin ansom if you'll put me on his trail;" and he winked his eye knowingly.

"There, now," said I, "now I can help you, and pay the old blackguard out, for a grudge I owe him. I was at his station this morning after some of my strayed cattle, when I heard he was gone over to the island shooting swans. I have a boat over in the creek yonder, in which I'll take you across, and you may nab him as easily as you could me."

"Ha!—Ha!—Ha!" laughed the man; "capital.—Thank ye—thank ye: I'll stan suffin ansom, as I said before, and give you grace if ever I have anything like this for you," and he produced a suspicious-looking document from his pocket.

"So he got into this same little boat, and I paddled him