'He never stole no moke,' returned his companion decisively, 'no more than you or me prigged the post-office clock, that's just been a-striking! He's a free-handed chap with his money, and that soft that he don't know a cross cove from a straight 'un. He's been had by Ned Lawless and his crowd. That's about the size of it.' 'They can't shop him for that, though,' said the first man, contemplatively filling his pipe. 'They say he was riding a crooked horse when he was took. Kate Lawless was with him on another. The yard was half-full of horses the Lawlesses had worked from hereabouts. It looked ugly, didn't it?' 'Looked ugly be blowed!' said his more logical and experienced friend. 'Things is getting pretty cronk if a chap can't ride alongside a pretty gal without wanting to see a receipt for the nag she's on! I believe it's a plant of that beggar Dayrell's. He wants a big case, and that poor young chap may have to suffer for it.' 'Dayrell wouldn't do a thing like that, surely,' exclaimed the first speaker in tones of amazement. 'Why, it's as bad as murder, I call it. What's to become of a swell chap like him, if he's lagged and sent to the hulks?' 'There's devilish few things as Dayrell _wouldn't_ do, it's my opinion, if he thought he'd get a step by it,' replied his friend. 'But this cove's friends'll make a fight for it. They'll have law. They've got money, and so has he, of course. They'll have a lawyer from Melbourne.' It did not appear at first as if there was much danger to be apprehended as far as Lance was concerned. Directly his case was called, he stood up and faced the Bench and the expectant crowd with a stern expression--half of defiance, half of contempt. 'May I say a few words in my own defence?' he commenced. 'I am certain that a short explanation would convince the Bench that any charge such as I am called upon to answer is ludicrous in the extreme.' 'We must first have the evidence of the apprehending constable,' said the police magistrate decisively, 'after which the Bench will hear anything you have to say.' 'But, your worship, I wish to speak a few words before.' 'After the evidence,' said the P.M. sternly. 'Swear Sergeant Dayrell.' That official strode forward, stepping into the vertical pew which is placed for the apparent _in_-convenience of witnesses, by adding to their natural nervousness and trepidation the discomfort of a cramped wearisome posture. To him, at least, it made no difference. Cool and collected, he made his statement with practised ease and deliberation, as if reading an oft-recited passage out of a well-known volume, watching the pen of the clerk of the Bench, so as to permit that official to commit to writing correctly his oft-fateful words. They were as follows--