His Brother's Debt Repaid

QUARTER-CASTE FUGITIVE MADE GOOD

Forgery is serious, and the law provides a severe penalty. 'M.' this week tells of a quarter-cast forger, and how he helped him make good.

About twenty-five years ago— I really forget the exact year— I was looking after a property in an isolated part of Queensland. Visitors were few, and not many travellers passed that way.

Shortly after dark one night a small camp fire attracted my attention down near the lagoon in front of the house, and as I was on my own at the time I walked down to pass away an hour or so with the camper. The man, a quarter caste, was a stranger to me, and although he did not seem too pleased to see me, he conversed freely enough after I'd broken the ice. He wasn't very communicative, but eventually he told me his name, which he said was Joe Dunn. (Dunn wasn't the name he mentioned, but it's near enough).

On asking if he was any relation to a Jim Dunn I knew, the man said he was a brother. On learning this, I asked him to spend the night up at the house, as his brother had once did me a good turn. One reason why I asked the man to come to the house was on account of not seeing any swag, and as a horse was standing saddled in the shadow I naturally thought the man was just boiling up preparatory to riding on to the township, some forty miles away.

It doesn't do to ask too many questions of strangers, and although the man told me a good deal about his brother Jim, he gave no information about himself. After a time I could see the fellow was uncomfortable, and after he'd refused again to come to the house, I prepared to go. It was then he asked if I'd do him a favor. Thinking it was money he wanted I said I'd help him if I could.

'Well, look here,' he said, I'm in a bit of trouble. Never mind what it is: will you promise to keep it quiet that you saw me?' Here I was in a nice fix. The man may have committed murder, for all I knew, and I was asked to make a promise about not seeing him. I tried to beat about the bush a bit, but putting it up to me that his brother had once did me a good turn, the man said it was only fair to the family that I should return the compliment. Anyway, taking the risk. I said I keep it to myself that I'd seen him if I was asked.

After making the promise I went home, but slept little that night worrying over the promise made. In the morning, there was no sign of the man, and a look at the fire showed that he must have ridden on in the night, possibly after I left him. I'll admit I had a guilty conscience, and for fear that some information might have been asked for about the man I'm calling Joe Dunn, I put the telephone out of commission for the time being.

Two days later a mounted constable rode up, and I knew he hadn't come to pay me a personal visit. He said he'd been trying to get me on the 'phone, but I soon explained the reason for not being able to raise me: 'phone out of order! It wasn't long before I knew the reason for his visit: he was after Joe Dunn, who, he told me, had forged a cheque in the town ship. No. I had not seen Joe Dunn 'when he called at the house,' which was the question asked, and I didn't commit myself by saying that I'd seen him at all. 'It's a wonder he never called here,' said the constable, 'as I know he never had any rations when he left.' However, I don't know yet where he got them, but I could have told the constable Joe Dunn had food when I saw him, but I kept a still tongue.

I learnt that the amount involved was £2, and after remarking about the wanted Joe Dunn's brother, and the good turn he had once done me, I said I'd make good the money just for the sake of Jim, the brother. I might have known that the offer would be of no avail: it wasn't the £2 the constable wanted, it was Mr. Joe Dunn.

After having a drink of tea the constable rode on again, and it wasn't until a couple of weeks later that I heard the search for Joe Dunn had not been successful. Dunn had been heard of further up the river, but that was all.

Coincidence beats the band at times; my next meeting with Joe Dunn was under unusual circumstances. It must have been 15 or more years after the time of the incident referred to, that I was walking along the street in another town, hundreds of miles away from where I'm referring to, when a man that seemed familiar passed by. My companion at the time was a policeman, so I couldn't very well ask him the man's name, though I felt sure it was Joe Dunn.

Next afternoon I was trucking some horses and while endeavoring to get a stubborn brute into the truck, a voice called out, 'Want a hand, mister?' The voice belonged to the man I'd passed in the street; it was Joe Dunn all right. After the horses had been trucked, I had a yarn and he told me the story, which I had no doubt would be correct. He had forged a cheque all right, but as soon as he received a job in another district and under another name, he had sent the £2 back to the storekeeper who had been defrauded.

Joe had enlisted under a changed name for fear the warrant for his arrest still held good, and had served three years abroad. He told me that he had been hidden in a clump of timber and seen the police trooper pass, the spot being not a mile away from the house where I was then, and further he said he had sneaked up one night and taken some beef out of the cask while I slept. After being sure that the police trooper was well on his way, Dunn had taken a cross country route finally to come out near a station where he had received a job.

In a way I suppose I was liable for not giving the police trooper information, but if the law was defeated, the quarter-caste had at least vindicated himself by making the money good and later on by enlisting. For my part I reckoned I had repaid in part the good turn the brother had done me. — 'M.'

Mother's Reticence Brought Couple Tragedy

The most complicated marriage tangle that I have heard of came under my notice recently. A wireless officer, 40 years of age was standing at the altar waiting to be married, when his mother quietly left her seat and informed the minister that he was about to marry brother and sister.

The groom, when a lad, ran away to sea, and during his long absence his mother married again. But she decided to keep her second venture a secret, because her husband was an outlaw, and was then serving a long sentence. One daughter was the only issue of the second wedding.

When the wandering seaman returned home after 20 years' absence, his mother told him that she kept the young lady in the home merely as a housemaid-companion. The young couple quickly became friends and, after a few weeks, their engagement was announced. The girl was led to believe that her lover was her mother's nephew. The mother knew that the couple were going about together, but thought it was only friendship.

The son purchased out of his savings a block of land, and had a bungalow erected in preparation for the future. When the mother heard of the engagement she was nonplussed. Some of her friends advised her to say nothing; others begged her to lift the veil before it was too late. How ever, she foolishly preferred the former.

Meanwhile, wedding preparations continued. A lavish wedding breakfast was arranged; the best man and bridesmaids were appointed, and the details forwarded to the press. In addition, a leading baritone was engaged to sing. Eventually the great day dawned, and the distracted mother still held her peace!

The bridegroom was standing at the altar awaiting the bride. The organ boomed out: — 'Here comes the bride.'' The hapless girl had no sooner reached the altar steps when her mother approached the officiating clergyman and told him the truth. The bride swooned, and was carried out of the church. Her brother escaped in the confusion, and was not seen nor heard of again.

Both women lived in the new house for some time, but were very unhappy. The mother realising the fearful blunder she had made, ended her sufferings with a bottle of poison. — 'A.D.'

Merry Jokers At Dances In The Country

A go-ahead little centre in the country clubbed together to erect a dance hall, different local causes taking it in turn to use it. Some of the younger blades felt decidedly frisky at the innovation, and practical jokes became the order every time a dance was held.

The first two or three times mischief was afoot, it took the form of sneaking away the saddle-horses tied up outside, riding them three or four miles away up various deserted lanes and leaving them hitched up to posts and stumps over a fairly wide area. The horse-owners held a conference with some secrecy, and emerged wearing wide grins and pledged not to reveal the action they had resolved upon.

Not long afterwards supper was being served at a function one evening when blood-curdling yells were heard outside. The horse-owners look at one another, grinned very broadly indeed and ran out to find a couple of young fellows hobbling up and down the fence rubbing themselves with every appearance of concern. The riders had taken precaution of quietly loosening the girths and surcingles before going into the dance, and the would-be 'duffers' had fallen off according to plan the minute they attempted to mount. No action was taken at the time, but the names of the jokers were quietly noted for future reference.

The pair used to drive in in a sulky, which they left standing outside the hall. A few days later, they found themselves very popular with their former victims, and found it hard to resist when they were plied with offers of nips next time they attended a dance. Very fuddled and shaky in the legs they went out at the conclusion of the evening to drive home, gratefully blessing a kind soul who had gone to the trouble of harnessing up their horse for them. They scrambled aboard their sulky, flicked the horse with the whip, tightened the reins and sat back with considerable relief. The horse reared and plunged a little, but obstinately refused to move. Amid the merriment of other departing guests, they tried again and again to make a start, but all their efforts were fruitless. Finally, they were left alone in the darkness and gave the job up as hopeless. Pulling a rug up round their ears, they settled down to sleep things off before getting out to investigate.

There they were found in the morning, still asleep, by the mailman, who lost no opportunity to spread the tale round the district, much to the dis comfiture of the two young fellows. The kind soul who harnessed their horse up the night before had painstakingly placed the animal on one side of a wire fence and the sulky on the other, the shafts forming a rather useless connecting link!

Joking died down for some time after this, but the next wag to arise was never discovered, and took care not to reveal his identity— for very obvious reasons. It was the custom of young matrons attending a dance to deposit their babies in a lean-to shed described as the 'ladies' retiring room,' where the kiddies slept happily enough in the subdued rays of a hurricane lamp.

In the early hours of the morning one woman decided it was time she went home. When she went to collect her child the lamp was gone so she fumbled in the dark where she knew she had left her youngster, wrapped it up warmly and drove home with her husband. Yawning, but happy, on arrival at the house, she started to undress her bonnie golden-haired little lass and put her to bed.

A piercing scream brought her husband in to dis cover a changeling — a bouncing half caste boy ! The pair frantically harnessed up again and drove back to the hall to seek their rightful child, but found the dance over when they arrived. There was nothing else for it but to make a round of all the married couples with children who had at tended. Call after call proved fruit less, but not uneventful, as sleepy matrons decided to investigate their own offspring and discovered that they too had misfits in their cradles.

By daybreak quite a fleet of cars and sulkies were cruising uphill and down dale in a continuation of the search. It was almost midday before the out lying centres had all been visited and the various kiddies restored to the bosom of their proper families. It was only when the hurricane lamp in the 'ladies' retiring room' was quietly replaced later on in the week that the indignant mothers woke up to the fact that some jester had removed it after changing the babies round from their proper positions. Vengeance was sworn, but never executed, as the jester evidently lacked the moral courage to face up to 20 or 30 mothers thirsting for blood, and it is hard to blame him for it!— 'Greenhide.'