It was evident the gang knew perfectly well the ways and doings of the bank, the hour of closing, and who the occupants were. They wanted a base of operations, where they could confine any one who happened to see them, so that no information might be given concerning them. They selected Younghusband's station, which from its position was well adapted for their purpose. They wanted food for their horses, and rest for themselves, as they would probably have to ride day and night before they reached their mountain retreat. They knew the police would endeavour to follow their tracks, and they had to keep on the alert. But every pass and track in the mountains was known, and every hiding-place familiar to the gang. After an exploit of this kind they seldom rode together. Each man took his own line to the first of several appointed meeting-places. If something occurred to prevent any one of them from putting in an appearance there, they made for the second, and so on until they met. When robbing the bank, they fixed on a time when they knew it would be closed, and they could remain inside without raising any suspicion. Fortune favoured them in a marvellous manner. The hawker, coming to Younghusband's, gave them an opportunity of dressing themselves so respectably, that no one meeting them would take them to be bushrangers; the carts also were of great use to them, and they could scarcely have carried out their plans without them. No doubt all the prisoners who were put into the store-room will be looked upon as cowards, but it should be remembered that it was a well-known fact that, after the Wombat murders, the gang were only too anxious to shed blood, especially Dan Kelly, who was the most blood-thirsty of the lot, and on the least provocation would have done so, his brother frequently having to restrain him from shooting any one he met in the bush.