On December 16th a toll-keeper named Delany was "sitting at the receipt of custom" in the toll-house on the road between Maitland and Rutherford, when a man pushed the door open, presented a pistol at his head, and cried out "Give me your money." Delany was of course considerably startled by the suddenness of this attack, but he replied "I've got none." "No---- nonsense!" cried the bushranger. "Give it here!" "I tell you," exclaimed Delany, "there's no money here. My mate's just taken it to Maitland." The bushranger stepped into the house, pushed Delany aside, opened the cupboard, and took out the cash box, saying at the same time, "I'm Captain Thunderbolt." Delany made no attempt to resist this violence, and the bushranger put the box under his arm and walked away up the road to where he had hitched his horse to the fence. He mounted and rode away, and a few minutes afterwards O'Brien, the lessee of the tollbar, returned from the town. Delany told him what had occurred, and leaving O'Brien in charge walked towards the Spread Eagle Inn at the Rutherford Racecourse. Near the inn he came upon the bushranger, who exclaimed, "Hulloa, come after me?" "No," replied Delany, "I'm going to the pub." "Has your mate gone for the crushers?" asked the bushranger. "No," was the reply, "he's minding the bar." Captain Thunderbolt kept silence for a moment, as if thinking, then he said, "I was told that young Fogarty, the flash fighting man, was keeping the bar, and I wanted to take it out of him. I didn't want to hurt you. You'll find your cash box behind that clump of trees and here's your money." He handed Delany about four shillings, mostly in coppers, and Delany walked away, picked up the cash box, which was uninjured, and went back to the toll-house. The bushranger walked into the bar of the inn and asked if he could have something to eat. Mrs. Byrne, the landlady, replied "Certainly," and went out to cut him some bread and meat. He sat down and waited, and on her return ate the bread and meat as if he was very hungry. When he had finished he asked "How much?" "Oh nothing," replied Mrs. Byrne, "we never charge for a little thing like that." "Well," said the robber, "I came here to stick you up, but as you're so---- hospitable, I won't." He then asked for a bottle of rum, paid for it, and went away. About half-a-mile away he met Godfrey Parsons, who was taking his sick wife to Maitland, to see the doctor. Thunderbolt ordered him to "bail up and hand out." Parsons replied, "We've only two pounds, and we want that for the doctor." The bushranger asked what was the matter with Mrs. Parsons and how long she had been ill. Parsons told him. "Well," said the robber, "I'm a bushranger, but I don't rob sick women; pass on." Mrs. Parsons had £30 in her pocket and was crying at the prospect of losing it.