police at Warwillah. It was Jack Danvers of course; they'd suspected him and his mate all the time.
'Well, Jack was nabbed, tho' he was out on a Queensland diggin' far enough away. But they sent up his description from the shed we'd left together, and he was brought down in irons, as he'd made a fight of it. The storekeeper swore to him positive as the man that had sold him the brown J.D. filly—old Jerry Dawson's she was. The jury found him guilty and he got three years.
'Now I'm on to the part of the play when the "ante-up" comes in. You mind me, you young fellers, it always does sooner or later. He'd no call to shake that filly. I said so then, and I say so now. And what come'd of it? Listen and I'll tell you—Death in five chapters—and so simple, all along of an unbroke filly!
'Now Jack wa'n't the man to stop inside of prison walls if he could help it. He and another chap make a rush one day, knock over the warder and collar his revolver. Another warder comes out to help; Jack shoots him dead, and they clear. Man's life number one. Big reward offered. They stick up a roadside inn next. Somebody gave 'em away. Police waitin' on 'em as they walk in—dead of night. Soon's they see the police, Jack shoots the innkeeper, poor devil! thought he'd sold 'em. Man's life number two. Jack and his mate and the police bang away at each other at close quarters—trooper wounded—Jack shot dead—mate wounded, dies next day. Men's lives number four.
'Who gave the office to the police and collared the blood-money? Friend of Jack's, a pal. Five hundred quid was too much for him. What became of him? Job leaked out somehow—friends and family dropped him. The money did him no good. Took to' drinking straight ahead, and died in the horrors within the year. Men's lives number five.
'Yes; he was the fifth man to go down. Two pound apiece their lives fetched! They're in their graves because Jack Danvers was a d—d fool, and when he was young, strong, good-looking and well-liked, must go and duff a man's mare out of sheer foolishness. He didn't see what was to come of it, or he'd 'a cut off his right hand first. But that's the way of it. We don't see them things till it's too late. But mark my words, you young chaps as has got all the
