One morning shortly after I was at the police barracks a report was made by Mr. J. W. Thompson (manager of Beefacres Estate, Paradise) that when returning on the previous night at about 11 p.m., from the city to Beefacres, a four wheeled trap, conveying four men, had recklessly driven into the trap he was driving, had run the shaft of their vehicle into the chest of a valuable mare he was driving, and had killed her. They were, he said, more or less drunk, and acted towards him in a most blackguardly manner, and had driven away at a furious rate towards the city. He was certain that he could identify them as he saw their faces clearly. They were young men and well dressed. He wanted the police to find out who they were, with a view to prosecute them.

Superintendent Hunt called me into his office, introduced me to Mr. Thompson, informed him that I was an experienced officer, and that he would give me charge of the case, and that he (Mr. Thompson) could rely upon my doing my utmost to detect these offenders. I left with Mr. Thompson, and obtained from him all particulars, and as correct a description of the men as he possibly could give me.

Leaving him I visited livery stables one after another, for I was strongly of the opinion that this was a hired trap that these men had. For some days I was unsuccessful, until one morning I had the good luck to pass a blacksmith and wheelwright shop, and there saw a trap with a broken shaft. I walked up and had a chat with a man at work there, as if I was whiling away the time. After casually looking at the broken shaft, I remarked that it must have been something pretty stiff to break a shaft like that, for it seemed thoroughly sound.

'Yes,' he said, 'it is one of 'So-and-So's' traps, and was brought here a few days ago for repairs; some fellows had hired it, and had met with an 'accident.'

On the Scent

Having ascertained the livery stables from which the trap had come, I proceeded there, informed the manager who I was, and asked him if any one had hired a trap from his stables on such and such a night. He informed me that four young fellows had hired one, and had returned it with a broken shaft, and told the man on at night that a wagon without a light had run into them. He knew one of the men, as he had previously hired vehicles from their stables, but not the others, and gave me his address. I thanked him and went to the address given me. It was a private lodging-house, and I ascertained that the man I wanted was boarding there, but away at his business. Upon my asking where that was, as I wanted to see him most importantly, the landlady told me that he was a whip and collar maker, and gave me the name of the firm he worked for.

I proceeded to Mr. Thompson's office feeling assured that I had discovered one of the men I wanted. Having informed him of the result of my enquiries, I told him I wanted him to accompany me, and see if he could recognise the man as one of those who were in the trap on the night that his mare was killed.

Arriving at the workshop I asked for the foreman and enquired of him if Mr. 'So-and-So' was working there. ' He replied, 'Yes! I will call him.' He took us into the workroom. Mr. Thompson (who was a big Scotchman) looked at the various men and he at once called out, pointing to a man, 'There's the dom scoundrel.'

I told the manager who I was, and that I wanted to interview this man. He called him over. I told him what I wanted him for, and he admitted to Mr. Thompson that he was driving the trap, but he said, it was purely an accident that they had killed his horse, for the one he was driving had shied, and ran into his. He also gave me the names and addresses of his three companions. Mr. Thompson, who was fairly excited by then, replied, 'You will dom well hear more about this.' We interviewed the other men, and they were identified by Mr. Thompson. He was quite elated at my success, and requested me to have lunch with him.

A Letter of Thanks.

Next day I received the following complimentary letter from Mr. Thompson:—

Beefacres Estate, Paradise, December 7, 1883.
Tpr. C. LeLievre, Mounted Barracks, Adelaide.
My Dear Sir— I very much regret being unable to get away this morning owing to unexpected trouble with extensive harvest operations. I enclose a letter from Symon, Bakewell, and Symon, and I will feel much obliged if the inspector in charge will allow you to go to the office and give full information with regard to this case. Allow me to thank you for the prompt and efficient manner in which you conducted the identifications of the guilty parties yesterday, and beg to remain, yours truly,
J. W. Thompson, manager, pro Hart Brothers.'

I accordingly called on Messrs. Symon, Bakewell, and Symon's office, gave them the information they desired, and was informed that my services would not be required further, as a civil action would be taken against these men. A cheque as an honorarium was forwarded to me through the head of my department, who at the same time congratulated me upon having brought this case to a successful issue.

In Charge of Nairne Station.

One morning in January, 1884, Superintendent Hunt called me into his office, and informed me that he had received numerous complaints from residents at Nairne that things were in a very unsatisfactory state there, in consequence of rowdyism and the disturbances caused by the navvies who were constructing the overland railway line to Melbourne, he was, therefore, appointing me in charge of the police there with every confidence, feeling assured that I would bring matters to a better state by preserving law and order, and suppressing lawlessness that was reported to be going on there. I thanked him, and assured him that his confidence in me would not be misplaced.

The railway section from Nairne to Murray Bridge was being constructed by Messrs. Robinson & Haigh, and hundreds of men were employed. At Nairne I saw that firmness was required to bring matters to a better state, as a number of drunken men and loafers were roaming about the town, doing pretty well as they liked— a state of things generally to be found where railway lines are being constructed.

With my men I rounded up a number of these drunks, and locked them up; others I advised to get to work, or go to their camps, otherwise I would also arrest them, as I was not going to allow them to roam about the town in a half-drunken state, and disturb the peace. The police were kept busy night and day, as the hotels were doing a roaring trade from early morning until 11 p.m.

A Levy of Drunks.

There was always a good levee of drunks attending the Police Court in the morning. Most of these men were good workers, but their aim in life appeared to be to earn money so that they could get on a good drunken spree. Many of these were arrested for their own protection, for after pay day they would carry about all their earnings. There were a number of unscrupulous scoundrels, who follow railway works like parasites, to prey upon those poor unfortunates, and rob them while pretending to befriend them when taking them to their camps. A number of these drunks when brought to the station had upon them from £5 to £10 which, had they not been locked up, they would have found themselves with not enough to buy themselves a drink.

There was one of these a regular attendant at the Police Court after pay day, an Irishman named OToole, who owned a horse and cart, and was employed un the construction works. He was thoroughly honest, for he would first pay his storekeepers and butchers, and all accounts he owed, before going on the spree, and would keep on it until his money was either all spent or stolen from him.

One morning he was brought up before a local justice, who said that he was sorry to see him again before him on that charge, and asked him what he got drunk on. He received the reply, 'Wine, sorr.' 'Wine!' said the astonished Magistrate. 'Why, that's rather an expensive luxury, is it not? What do you pay a bottle for it?' He was told, 'Fourpence a bottle, sorr.' 'Oh,' replied the Magistrate, 'I understand now why you get drunk, you go in for quantity, not quality.' A lot of this vile pinky was made in the district, and sold to these poor unfortunates as wine.

Dramatic Sequel to a Fire.

At one end of the township there was a small general store kept by a foreigner and his wife. At about 2 a.m. one morning the township people were aroused by cries of 'Fire, fire!' I at once proceeded to the scene, and saw that the above mentioned, store was a blaze. I soon saw that nothing could be done to save the building, as it was constructed of wood and galvanized iron. All at once the attention of those present was aroused by hearing a woman's shrieks. Looking whence they came, we saw the store keeper's wife, in her night attire, in the doorway at the back entrance of the store, to which there was a number of steps, crying out, 'Save me! Oh, save me!' Her husband, who appeared at the psychological, moment from somewhere, rushed to her rescue, and she fell apparently fainting in his arms. The whole scene was most dramatic. I did not pay much attention to it at the time, but had cause to do so afterwards.

There was a large underground cellar beneath the building, and therefore the debris of the fire fell into it. I ascertained that the store was insured, and informed the company of the fire. The company sent up a Mr. Yeoul as assessor. I think he was without a doubt the smartest man in this line that I have ever come across. I heard from him that the place was fairly heavily insured.

After he had closely examined the charred remains of the fire in the cellar, he asked me if I could get him a couple of men who understood panning for alluvial gold. I told him I could, and got them for him, wondering why in the name of fortune he wanted them. I was soon to learn that he knew his job. He informed me that the proprietor had, among other things, insured a quantity of gold jewellery, such as diamond rings, watches, brooches, and bangles, and that the store was well stocked with ironmongery of all kinds, as well as drapery.

He set the men to sift and wash most carefully the whole of the debris in the cellar, and supervised the work. The result was that only a few axes, iron bedsteads, tools, buttons, and so on were found, but not the slightest trace of any gold or diamonds. This showed conclusively that none of these things stated by the in surer was in the store at the time of the fire. Needless to say the insurance company declined to pay the full amount that the store and contents were insured for, but made an offer for a certain sum, which I was informed was accepted. The proprietor and his wife departed to fresh fields and pastures new, and Nairne knew them no more. How true was the saying of our old friend Bobbie Burns (verified in this case)— 'The best laid schemes of men and mice gang aft agley.'

Amateur Burglar's Pranks.

The minds of the peaceful residents of Nairne were aroused to a great pitch of excitement by a supposed burglar paying them nightly visits, and helping himself freely from their pantries to all kinds of provisions, such as bread, jam, pickles, meat, and butter. This was of frequent occurrence. The matter was reported to me. At first I was inclined to think that these petty larcenies were committed by passing tramps, until the morning I received a report from one of the local storekeepers that his store had been entered the previous night, and that a magazine rifle, an alarm clock, rug, violin, and several other articles had been stolen. I thoroughly examined the store, but could find no trace of any forcible entry having been made. The windows had been securely fastened, and the strange part was that the storekeeper informed me that he found the doors locked in the morning, as he had left them on the previous night when leaving for his residence, which adjoined the store. I and the men under me searched all the camps of the men found in the vicinity of the town, but without any clue as to who the perpetrator was.

As periodical visits were still being paid to the residents' houses, and food and so on were being stolen, I formed, with the help of residents, at night three parties, and stationed them in various parts of the town until break of day, as was determined to apprehend, if possible, this marauder.

An Elusive Pimpernel.

One Sunday morning to our surprise we discovered that he must have broken through the cordon I had set for his apprehension. The local baker had placed a roast leg of mutton for his dinner in his meat safe. He had tied a bell to it with a string leading to the room he slept in. He found that the string had been cut, and the leg of mutton stolen. This aroused the residents to such a pitch of excitement that more volunteers came forward to assist the police in keeping night watch, for this offender.

One night a resident, who had visited the shrine of Bacchus, offered to make one of a party, and as the burglar had visited his house a few nights previously and had helped himself freely to the contents of the kitchen, he was naturally wroth, and anxious that he should be caught. I persuaded him that it would be better if he stayed at his house, as this burglar seemed to be a kind of 'elusive Pimpernel,' and might call a second time during his absence. He, therefore, armed himself with an old muzzle loader, and sat in darkness in a chair in his kitchen with his gun waiting to give the burglar a warm reception.

Unfortunately for him his good intentions were frustrated, for his vigil must have been of short duration. Morpheus must have beguiled him into the land of dreams. When he awoke in the morning he found to his amazement that the burglar had paid him another visit, and— did his eyes deceive him?— instead of his gun being between his legs and resting on his shoulder he found instead the kitchen broom. The news soon spread like wild fire, for one of his children told her schoolmates what the wicked burglar bad done to her father. He, therefore, came in for a considerable amount of chaffing.

Under 'Deadwood Dick's' Influence.

The burglar's career was unexpectedly terminated. One morning one of the residents came to me in a great state of excitement, and informed me that he had seen a man's face looking out of one of the grating's at Dunn's flourmill. This mill had not been working for some time, but was used as a store for the sale of bran and pollard. I immediately obtained the key, unlocked the door, and went inside. By this time a number of people had sur rounded the mill.

We searched the engine room, and found on a shelf our burglar's plant— rifle, violin, rugs, clock, and a number of articles which had been reported stolen. We ascended from floor to floor in hot pursuit, for there was no possible chance of his escaping. At the top of the mill among the sacks I heard some one moving. I called upon him to surrender, otherwise I would shoot. He immediately called out, 'Don't shoot. I give myself up, and I am glad I am caught, for I have had three weeks of misery.'

To our astonishment the burglar turned out to be a young man who had been in the employ of the local baker delivering bread to customers, and had suddenly disappeared from the town. Hence his knowledge of the houses he had pillaged. In his possession was a number of keys, which accounted for the mystery of his entering premises and locking them after his departure. He informed me that abominable 'Deadwood Dick' novels had inspired him to turn burglar. He was brought to justice, and received a short term of imprisonment. The Judge took a lenient view of the case, for his action proved that he was more fool than knave.