8
IRRALIE'S BUSHRANGER
thing: why on earth do you carry about a loaded revolver?"
In the buggy there was silence. Irralie glanced over her left shoulder, but now there was darkness too.
"Isn't it the proper thing to do?" he asked at length.
"Far from it," replied Irralie, severely.
"But what about bushrangers?"
"Bushrangers! There are none. They are all dead and gone."
"What about—Stingaree?"
"Stingaree! I forgot him. He's the man who stuck up the Mount Brown gold-escort. Oh, yes, I've heard a lot about Stingaree."
"I wonder what you have heard."
"That he's a bit of a duke—in fact, an Oxford man!"
"Would you know him by sight?"
"I shouldn't; but, as it happens, we have a man here who would."
"A man I shall meet to-night?"
"Oh, no! a whim-driver—the whim-
