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Updated: August 16, 2024
All preliminaries were arranged during the afternoon: in the evening, just before night fell, Dick and Peterson, hidden with their trusty steeds amongst the saplings about three hundred yards beyond the toll-bar, awaited the coming of their companions in crime. They had not long to wait; in a few minutes Jacker Mack, Ted, and Phil Doon came riding up the dusty track on their brave billies.
It was Jacker Mack who sounded the first note of dismay. 'Jee-rusalem! How 'bout the toll? Nobody had thought of the toll-bar, and there were the big, white gates already in sight, stretching across the road, threatening to bring dismal failure upon the expedition when complete success seemed imminent. 'Down with the fence! ordered the implacable Moonlighter.
You can be captain of the band if you like, Jacker; 'n mind you don't give it away. Dick gained his point, as usual, and prepared for a quite casual descent upon Harry, who had not yet seen the boys. The plan brought Dicky, 'shanghai' in hand, under the tree where Hardy sat.
'My oath, won't it! ejaculated Peterson. Jacker was elated, and grinned far and wide. 'P'raps he'll go nippin' round, thinkin' he's chased by 'em like he did las' Christmas holidays, suggested the elder McKnight gleefully. This villainous scheme was the result of the boys' extraordinary familiarity with many phases of drunkenness.
The party, which consisted of Dick Haddon, Jacker McKnight, Ted, Billy Peterson, and Gable, started for the paddocks immediately school was out, intending to make Jock Summers compensate them for the loss of a meal. It was not thought desirable to take Gable, but he insisted, and Gable was exceedingly pig-headed and immovable when in a stubborn mood.
It was a mere incident in any case, and would have made no material difference in their friendship. It had not kept Jacker from visiting the Mount of Gold on the same night with information and supplies, and now the boy was cheerfully unconscious of the black eye that still ornamented his broad visage. There were two well-worn shovels and a miner's pick in the drive. Jacker seized the pick.
If Dick were quite sure it was safe, and if there were not the smallest possible chance of their complicity being disclosed, Jacker and Ted were quite agreeable. Peterson was always agreeable for adventure, however absurd. Dick explained: 'Hamlet's gone down to the pub. He's sure to get screwed to-night. There's a fool feller there from McInnes, knockin' down a cheque an' shoutin' mad.
That night three boys three of the faithful Jacker McKnight, Phil Doon, and Billy Peterson, stole through Wilson's paddock carrying mysterious bundles, and taking as many precautions to avoid observation and pursuit as if they were really, as they pretended to be with the fine imagination of early boyhood, desperate characters bent upon an undertaking of unparalleled lawlessness and great daring.
Jacker thought it did, for although it was always night in the drives, the consciousness that the earth above was flooded with sunlight was a great heartener. 'Don't you think you'd best give this up for once this bushranger game? ventured Jacker. 'Why? Dick's eyes were round with surprise. 'Oh, well, Twitter's jack of it, an' I don't think it's much fun. Jacker had assumed a careless air.
Dick's excitement soon evaporated; evidently root smoking was conducive to a philosophical frame of mind. 'We'll get them back all right after, he said. 'They'll work Butts to a shadder, Jacker remarked insinuatingly.
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