‘Very dreadful thing―very,’ said the sympathising banker, trying vainly to subdue his cheerful visage. ‘Never had anything so terrible happened at Turonia since it was a goldfield. Merlin, Greffham, and I are going to ride out to the spot to-morrow. Would you like to come?’ ‘With pleasure,’ said Ernest; ‘that is, I shall go as a matter of duty. But what is up?’ ‘Just this――’ said Bright. ‘But surely you must have heard it?’ ‘Not a word,’ replied Ernest. ‘Pray go on. I have suspected something wrong, but have not the faintest idea what it is.’ ‘Henderson and Carroll,’ said Bright solemnly, ‘two of the men in the force, the troopers that you saw start with the gold, were yesterday found _dead_―murdered, evidently―near the Running Creek. All the gold and bank notes have been taken, and the police have no more idea who the murderer is than you or I have. Have you, Merlin?’ he asked of that gentleman, who now joined them. ‘Are there any bushrangers or bad characters known to be in the neighbourhood?’ asked Mr. Neuchamp. ‘I have always thought it a perfect marvel that so little overt crime existed among this immense assemblage of men, with so many exciting causes. There must be _very few_ criminals, or else they keep very quiet.’ ‘_We_ know of scores of men of the very worst class and most desperate character,’ replied Mr. Merlin; ‘but, as you say, they have been kept very quiet. Still it never does to relax caution, as, if a sufficiently “good thing,” in their phraseology, turns up, they are always ready to run all risks for the spoil. You have pushed against men who have committed more than _one_ or even two murders. I saw you talking to one the other day by the Chinaman’s store in Stanley Street.’ ‘Good heaven!’ said Ernest, much moved, ‘you don’t say so? And was that quiet, sober-looking man that I was chatting with―I remember him quite well now―a known criminal?’ ‘One of the worst we have,’ rejoined the Inspector in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘A cold-blooded, treacherous ruffian. He _dares_ not drink on account of what he might let out; but we know where he has been and all about him this time. He was not near the spot.’ At this moment a telegram was put into the Inspector’s hand, which he read carefully and showed to Ernest. ‘Of course this is strictly confidential,’ he said. The telegram ran as follows:― Notes traced, known to have been in the packet forwarded by escort. Arrest Jones. ‘This gives a clue, of course, but,’ said the official with diplomatic reserve, ‘we may or may not follow it up. Possibly we may be thrown out; but eventually I venture to think Mr. Jones will be run into in the open.’ ‘Arrest Jones,’ repeated Mr. Neuchamp. ‘And have you been able to secure him?’