Redhill in the seventies appeared to be a rendezvous or ''Tom Tiddler's ground" for bushmen of all kinds and down-and-outs.

One afternoon I heard yelling and shouting, and not too choice language, being used in the township. Upon going to ascertain the cause I came across two men apparently drunk, for they were staggering about and using vile language. I went up to them and asked them what they meant by going about in that drunken state and using such language.

They staggered towards me, one each side of me, and when close to me straightened themselves up, and before I was aware of it one struck me a violent blow on the right shoulder and the other yelled out, "Put the boot in the — ."

I was staggered, to say the least of it, for a moment, but at once realized that both were thoroughly sober, and this was a put-up job on their part to give me a thrashing. A rough-and-tumble ensued. I stepped back as quickly as I could, and whipped out a small revolver, which I invariably carried with me, and as they were about to make a simultaneous rush at me took aim at the nearest one's right shoulder blade and fired. Being a crack revolver shot, the bullet struck him on the top of the shoulder. He gave one bound, and yelled, "I'm killed! I'm killed!"

I said to him, "You are not killed yet, but you soon will be if you don't put up your hands.'' I then called upon the other to put up his hands also, or else I would serve him the same. He at once complied, and sang out, "Don't shoot, don't shoot," and put up his hands.

I said to them, "You dirty scoundrels. You thought you had caught me napping. Now walk ahead of me to the police station." This they readily did, for by this time they were pretty crestfallen, and their fighting propensities had been well knocked out of them.

A number of townspeople and some of these fellows' mates now appeared on the scene. As some of the latter appeared hostile towards me I told them if any of them attempted to interfere with me or my prisoners I would use my revolver on them. This seemed to cower them. Several of the residents proffered their assistance, accompanied me to the station; and saw, my prisoners safely under lock and key.

I ordered the one I had shot to divest himself of his coat, vest, and shirt, and examined him. The bullet, which was of a very small calibre, had just grazed the top of the shoulder blade, where I had aimed for. I sent for the local doctor, who, after examining the wound and dressing it, said it was but very slight, and had barely penetrated the flesh.

Undesirables 'Cleaned Up.'

Seeing that there was nothing to worry about I proceeded back to the township, and was speaking to several of the residents under the post office verandah when the telegraph messenger boy, who had come across the street, said to me; "Did you hear, Mr. LeLievre, what that big fellow said who is standing near the hotel bar door?" I said "No!" What did, he say?" He said, 'We'll pitch the — in the creek (River Broughton)." I told the boy to walk in the post office so that he would not know that he had spoken to me.

I went over to where this fellow was with a number of others, and asked him what he meant by saying he would pitch me in the creek. He shrugged up his shoulders and said, "Well, what about it?" I stared him full in the face, and said, "Now, let me see you do it."

He scowled and gave me an awful look, which would have annihilated me had he been able, for he was a most repulsive fellow. He added that he had not said anything about pitching me in the creek. I said, "Very good. I give you two hours to pick up your swag and get out of the town. If you are in the township after this I will run you in, and you will be able to accompany your friends, who are in the cells, to the Gladstone Gaol."

I retraced my steps to the post office verandah, and as I was walking away I heard one of his mates say in an undertone, "I would make tracks, Jack, if I were you; the — means it."

The two supposed drunks were brought before the Court on the following morning and sentences to imprisonment at the Gladstone Gaol. The town was well rid of them. It appears that they had forced their way into Reynolds's hotel, and had demanded drink. I ascertained that their mate thought better of pitching me into the creek and had cleared out. These are some of the little fracases that police troopers had to encounter in these northern townships in the seventies.

Sacking a Store.

A few days after the above occurrence I was in the township getting my mail, when Mr. George Stockham, a local storekeeper, accosted me, and told me he was going to Koolunga, where he had another store. He asked me to accompany him, as I had not patrolled there for some time. I seized the opportunity, and went with him.

Upon our arrival there his manager (Mr. Inglis) informed him that the store had been broken into during the previous night, and cash, which fortunately amounted to only a few pounds, had been taken, in addition to other articles. I made enquiries if any strangers had been seen about the town, and was informed that a man answering the description of the one I had cleared out of Redhill a few days previously had been seen knocking about the hotel stables, and had gone that morning to Mr Martin, a farmer residing some three miles away, as he had been told he wanted some men for the harvest.

I felt sure this fellow was quite capable of doing this or any, other villainy, for he had a most repulsive countenance. I therefore went to the hotel stables, examined his swag, and found several pounds of tobacco and some wooden pipes, which the manager identified by his private marks and also various other articles which were identified as stolen property. I was then sure of my man.

I then told Mr. Stockham I wanted him to drive me to where this fellow was supposed to have gone, as I was determined to arrest him. He asked me if I had my revolver and handcuffs with me. I told him "No! I had only my twitches, as I had not anticipated this trip."

"Well," he said, "we will return for them to Redhill." I said, "That will never do, for that will mean a journey of 24 miles, besides six miles to Martin's farm." I asked his manager it he had a revolver in the store. He replied that the only thing they had was an old pistol, but the hammer was broken off it. I said, "That will do; let me have it." I placed it in the outside pocket of my coat with the stock well projecting, for I was in plain clothes.

I then said to Mr. Stockham, "Now I am ready lets go and get him." He still tried to induce me to go back to Redhill. After a little persuasion we drove off for Martins farm, where I saw my man at work with others at a winnowing machine. I told Mr. Stockham, who was slightly deaf, to leave this offender to me, but to act promptly in anything I asked him to do. I informed Mr. Martin, who was standing by, and, pointing to the offender, told him I was going to take him away.

"Oh! confound it," he replied, "I thought I was in luck's way in getting him, as I wanted a man badly.'" When I told him what I wanted him for he replied, "Take him away by all means."

Strategy Rewarded.

I walked up to this offender, who was watching me keenly, his face as black as a thundercloud, and told him that I arrested him for breaking in and stealing from a store at Koolunga. I placed my hand at the same time on the stock of my broken pistol, and said to him, "Act as a man, and I will treat you as a man, but if you attempt any nonsense or make any resistance I will use my revolver on you, and shoot you as I would a crow." I gave him no time to think over the matter, and told him to get in the trap. I further told him that, if he promised to make no attempt to escape, I would not show him up before the men by putting the handcuffs on him. He mumbled some thing to the effect that he would go quietly. I placed him in the front seat, and I got in, and sat on the rear one.

At the hotel I got the ostler to place his swag in the trap. As it was a hot day we had some refreshments. I gave the prisoner a pint of beer, and proceeded on our homeward journey to Redhill. I then locked him up in the cell, searched him, and found several more articles of the reported stolen property about him, and nearly all the cash with the exception of a shilling or so.

After locking him up Mr. Stockham and I went into my quarters, well satisfied with my day's work. "Well," he said, "you are about the coolest customer I have ever come across. To arrest that fellow as you did, and telling him if he behaved himself you would not put the handcuffs on him, when you had not any to put on, but if he attempted any nonsense you would riddle him like you would a crow, when you had a useless old pistol with you. Supposing he had known that, and had found out you were only bluffing him, you would have had no chance with that big fellow, for he could have easily knocked you off the trap, and cleared away over a wire fence.

"My dear George," I replied, "if your aunt had been a man, she would have been your uncle, and supposing pigs had wings, they would make very uncanny birds. Never mind about the ifs and supposings. I had to take my man and these are some of the risks a police trooper has to take, otherwise, he would not be fit or worthy to be a member of the mounted police, but as I have my prisoner under lock and key, I think we are entitled to a whisky," in which proposal he readily acquiesced.

"Well," he said, "as sure as your name is Le Lievre you will some day be killed by some of these fellows.'' I replied, "You are not the only one who has told me that, but if I am killed by them I rather be killed in the execution of my duty, than be hanged."

"Tilly the Dog."

The prisoner was committed for trial and sentenced to two years' imprisonment at the Supreme Court, Adelaide. The Criminal Investigation Department ascertained that he had a bad record, having been previously committed in Victoria and New South Wales for serious offences. He was known as 'Tilly the Dog,' and I had been connected with other prisoners in New South Wales with a murderous assault on one of the guards, but had turned Queen's evidence in order to save his own hide, hence the name he was known by among the criminal class.

Although I have gone through many thrilling incidents during my police career, I always considered my duty paramount, and I can safely say without egotism, that I have never known what fear was. I saw the report of this man's death some years after in the Victorian Police Gazette, and that he had died in a police cell— a fitting place for him for as he had lived so he had died, a thief, and convict to the end. And thus ended the career of 'Tilly the Dog.'

I Leave the Northern District.

After having been stationed in the northern division for five years, I returned to the police barracks at Adelaide in the latter part of 1883. Great changes had taken place during that time in the police force. Chief Inspector Searcy had retired from the service. Inspector Hunt, from the south-eastern division, had succeeded him, and had been appointed to the rank of superintendent— a well-merited promotion. Inspector Shaw was next in command, a good officer, and one who had the esteem and respect of his men.

Upon my leaving the north for Adelaide, the following is a copy of which appeared in The Northern Argus on November 5, 1883, with reference to my departure from Laura:— "Mounted Constable LeLievre, who for some time has been in charge of Laura Police Station, has been relieved, and started for Adelaide on Saturday, Novem ber 3. Mr. LeLievre has discharged his duties here very efficiently and zealously, and a memorial, to that effect, signed by the local justices, the town clerk, and the district council clerk, has been transmitted to the Commissioner of Police. It is always pleasant to be able to speak with commendation of public officials, and it must be gratifying to Mr. LeLievre that his services have been appreciated by those best able to form any opinion."