My stay at the Burra was not of a long duration for after about nine months I received my marching orders to proceed to Port Pirie, and report myself for duty under Corporal Gregory, a fine man, and a capable officer.

Port Pirie at that time (1878) was a dirty mudhole, and had not then assumed the great importance that it has at the present time. The Broken Hill smelters had not been erected, or been thought of, for the greatest silver mine that the world has proved had not been discovered at Broken Hill.

The three principal hotels in the town were Howe's, Knapman's, and Kneese's, in addition to one at Solomontown and Port Pirie West. All were doing a roaring trade, for it is astonishing what a thirst is acquired by those living in a hot sea port town.

The mounted police there were Corporal Gregory (in charge) and myself, also a water and foot constable, who did regular township duty. When not on mounted duty I also assisted in the various duties required to be done in the town. I, therefore, got well acquainted with the business people, lumpers, and sailors about the port, and was known by them as the young sailor trooper on account of my having been at sea, and my knowledge of ships, sailors, and their ways.

Looking for a Burglar.

Shortly after my arrival there, a burglary had taken place one night at Appila-Yarrowie, and most of the silverware, cutlery, and numerous other articles had been stolen from the local hotel. Inspector Saunders, who happened to be on a visit of inspection at the port station, informed the corporal about it. Appila-Yarrowie not being in the Port Pirie police district, he had not, therefore, been appraised of it. The inspector informed him that a constable had been sent there, and made enquiries, but had not been successful in detecting the offenders, or obtaining any clue as to who they were. He was annoyed that no arrest had been made, but he was determined that everything should be done to effect their apprehension, as it was no doubt more than one man's job.

Corporal Gregory then remarked:— ''Why not send LeLievre? I am sure that he will do his utmost to apprehend the offenders, and I have every confidence in him." The result was that I was instructed to proceed to Appila-Yarrowie. I took train to Caltowie, and hired a man with a trap to take me to Appila-Yarrowie. It was a sweltering, hot summer's day when we left. Birds of all kinds were around the little water that was in the dams, with outstretched wings, and exhausted with the intense heat. When we arrived at Appila-Yarrowie we were more like blackfellows than white men, caused by the dust and perspiration.

We pulled up at the hotel, which had been burgled, and quenched our thirst with a cool pint of beer. On looking round I saw in the bar room a man whom I had seen working on the wharf at Port Pirie, a decent sort of fellow, and to whom on more than one occasion I had shouted a pint of beer. I found it was money well spent, as I had received on various occasions information that I required.

I said to him, 'Hullo, Jack, what about having a pint of beer?' He readily agreed. I saw that he had been indulging pretty freely. The day was a regular northern scorcher.

On the Right Track.

He came around to where I was and said to me, "I know what you are here for, Mr. LeLievre." "Of course you do," I said, "but what about having another pint before you tell me." I wanted to loosen his tongue a little, for I saw he was inclined to be communicative.

"Well," I said, "drink that up, and come with me." I led the way to a parlour, and then said to him. "What do you suppose I am here for?" "Oh," he said, "it's about that robbery." I told him I was sorry to hear that he was implicated in it, as a sort of a feeler. "So-help-me," he replied, "I had nothing to do with it."

"I am afraid," I said, "'that you will have to tell that to the marines, for I know more about this affair than you are aware of." I plied him with numerous questions, after which, he said, "You will not let me down if I tell you what I know about it." "Certainly not, if you tell me the truth, and you convince me that you are not implicated."

"Well," he said, "you saw those two fellows sitting on the floor at the further end of the bar. I have overheard some of their conversations and from what I can understand they are the two who did the job. They planted the stuff in a bag in the chaff-house at the rear of the hotel under some bags."

"Well," I replied, "Why have they not cleared off with it. " "For the reason," he said, "that they have not been able, for on the following morning, a ton of chaff had been delivered to the landlord, and had been put in the chaff-house on top of it, and they are now waiting for a chance to shift the chaff off it. That's all I know about it, so help me."

Missing Articles Found.

After what he had told me I was satisfied that my trip had not been in vain, and felt sure that I had solved the mystery of this burglary. I was pleased at my good luck, and now all I wanted was to verify what I had been told. I therefore told Jack to go back to the bar, and on no account let those fellows know that I was a police trooper. I called in the landlord, and told him who I was, and what I had discovered about the burglary. He was quite elated over my success. He then told me that those two fellows had been hanging about the hotel ever since the burglary. I said to the landlord, "I am going to search those fellows' swags, I want you to be present."

I went into the bar, called them aside, and told them I was a police trooper (for I was in plain clothes), and that I was going to search their swags. One of them was inclined to be obstreperous, but I pulled out my handcuffs, and told him if I had any of his nonsense I would put them on him. Seeing, no doubt, determination in my face, I heard no more from him.

They then took me around to an old shed at the rear of the hotel stables where they had been camping, and opened their swags. The landlord, who accompanied me, found several articles which he identified as his property. I then charged them with burglariously entering the hotel and with stealing, and before they realized it had handcuffed the pair together. I instructed the landlord to get men, and had all the bags of chaff removed from the chaff-house. When this had been done, to the agreeable surprise of myself and the landlord, we found all the silverware and cutlery which had been stolen.

The landlord, I need hardly say, was delighted at the recovery of his property and was most profuse with thanks at my success. I then conveyed my prisoners and 'Jack' to Caltowie. The prisoners were under the impression that he had been arrested for drunkenness, whereas I had brought him with me in case I might require him as a witness. They were there tried at the Police Court, and committed for trial at the Supreme Court at Adelaide, where they were subsequently found guilty, and sentenced to a term of imprisonment, which fitted the crime they had committed. A Sherlock Holmes would no doubt make out of this a smart and clever arrest. As a matter of fact, I take no great credit for it, as I attribute my success to nothing more than my good fortune to my thirsty friend 'Jack,' and as it is said in police phraseology— "from information received."

Stolen Wheat

While at Port Pirie a great amount of wheat was shipped from that port. There were huge stacks of bagged wheat on the wharfs. The police had received complaints from agents that bags of wheat were being constantly stolen from the stacks. I was told off by the officer in charge (Cpl. Gregory) to make searching enquiries and make every effort to apprehend the offenders. I therefore strolled off on this duty, and made towards the wharfs on which wheat was stacked. I noticed several small craft, such as ketches, lying alongside the wharf, and with their hatches open. What prompted me, I cannot say, but I jumped on board one of these and sang out, ''Anybody on board?"

Not receiving an answer, and looking down the hatch, I saw in a corner of the hold two bags of wheat, and one damaged bag, partly perished through the wet weather. I went into the hold, examined the brands, and found that they corresponded with those on the stacks. I got out of the hold on to the wharf, opposite to where the ketch was moored, examined the stack of wheat, and found that some bags had been recently removed from the top of the stack.

Hullo, I thought to myself. What's the meaning of this? After noticing the name on the ketch I went in search of the agent, and came across him tallying wheat at another stack. I asked him if he had sold or given away any wheat from a certain stack. He replied, 'Certainly not!' Ascertaining from him the name of the master of the ketch, I went off in search of him, and found him in the bar of Knapman's Hotel. I said to him, "I've been looking for you." He said, "Oh! What's up?"

Feed for the Fowls.

I told him I was to open a new station at Port Germein, and I was going to be stationed there, and that I would like him to take over my dunnage (a sailor's phrase for box and clothing) if he was going over. He said, "I'm leaving this afternoon; bring them down. I'll take them over."

"But," I said, "You are not loaded yet. You have only a couple of bags or so of wheat on board." "Oh. that's only a few bags of fowls' wheat I am taking over." After admitting that be was aware of the wheat being on board the ketch, I called him outside. Had I not asked him this, he more than probably, when arrested, would have denied my knowledge of the wheat being on board his boat, and said someone, who had a set on him, had dumped it down the hold of the ketch, and that he knew nothing about it. I told him that he would have to accompany me to the police station.

"Hell," he said, "You don't think I stole the wheat?" "Well," I said, "You will have to explain how those bags got on board your ketch." At the station I told him the charge, cautioned him, and arrested him. He was brought before a Magistrate at the Police Court, and committed for trial at the Supreme Court Sessions at Adelaide.

He was defended by an eminent English barrister, who had a monocle, which he used with good effect. He gave me the greatest gruelling of a cross examination, the likes of which I have never since had during my long term in the police force. In fact, I began to wonder if I ought to be in the dock instead of the prisoner. In his eloquent address to the jury he asked them to note the scandalous way I acted towards the prisoner. Were we in Russia, that such unjust modes prevailed with the police, and that persons could be arrested without warrants, as I had done? If such were the case that would be the end of British justice. He was proceeding with his address in like manner, when suddenly I heard the learned presiding Judge (Judge Boucaut) say, "Stop, Mr. —. I cannot allow this to go to the jury, and you know it is not the law. The trooper had a perfect right to arrest the prisoner without a warrant. He went about to catch a thief, and used methods which the law allow."

Good heavens! I could hardly believe my ears, but what a relief to me, for now I realized that I was not the dreadful character that I had been represented. Needless to say, the jury found the prisoner guilty, and he was sentenced to a term of imprisonment. I received through the head of the Police Depart ment a nice letter, and a cheque enclosed from the firm, thanking me for the service I had rendered them in bringing this offender to justice. Shortly after this I left Port Pirie for Port Germein, and opened a new station there.

[Image] EX-MOUNTED CONSTABLE LE LIEVRE, Winner of the two first prizes of the St. John Ambulance Demonstrations, 1903.