Mr. Jordun, who had seated himself before a huge lump of boiled beef, upon hearing this started up, and with a very large oath snatched the boy from his mother's embrace, and hugged him no less frantically. "What, my bo' Bill--my littleest kid come home agin--Lord bless you, my boy. I'm _so_ glad to see you." When the heads of the family had done with him, William was condescending enough to allow the women-folks and customers to welcome him. After they had finished the lad took a seat between his father and mother, and fell-to at the food, between the mouthfuls relating his adventures. His parents were deeply interested in his recital, and when he concluded his meal, a pipe was filled by his mother and handed to him, and he shared his father's gin and water as he proceeded with his story. When he informed them that he had been left all Old Jemmy's prize money and pay, which would amount together with his own to about thirty pounds, his father observed that it must be put in the Savings Bank for him. "I knows a better game nor that, dad." "What is it, bo'?" "Vy, lay it out in a skittul alley, and put over the gangway, Bill Jordun and Son." Upon hearing this observation the man laid down his pipe, shook hands solemnly with his son, and declared, "that it was a bargain." That is why the sign of the Blue Posts at Portsea came to run as follows:-- WILLIAM JORDUN AND SON (WM.), LICENSED TO SELL BEER TO BE DRUNK ON THE PREMISES. N.B. A good dry skittle alley. And here we take our leave of master William Jordun, being unable to give our readers any further information concerning that undaunted youth. CHAPTER XV. When Thompson saw the main body of the bannermen riding over the sand ridge he knew it was useless to resist, so he quietly awaited his fate. After surrounding him, one of their number grasped the sailor by the collar and attempted to lift him off the ground, upon which Jerry clambered up and seated himself behind his captor. Having secured the dead body of their companion, the party set spurs to their horses, and were soon out of the captain's sight. Puffeigh knew it would be useless to fire at them, as such a proceeding would only make matters worse for the prisoner. When they had proceeded about a mile they threw the dead body into a field, then dismounting and placing Thompson in the centre of the group, squatted round him, lighted their pipes, and held a council of war. "This barbarian looks like a western devil to me," observed their leader. "I am uncertain whether to kill him now, or to take him to the military governor."