It was in full pursuit, and we turned aside only in time
to prevent ourselves from being knocked down in the confusion.
"Stop him - stop him," was the cry. He was captured, and the cry changed
to, "String him up - string him up - it's useless taking him to the
police-office."
"What has he done?" asked my brother of a quiet by-stander.
"Shot a man in a quarrel at a grogshop."
"String him up - string him up - confront him with the body," vociferated
the mob.
At this moment the firmly-secured and well-guarded culprit passed by, to
be confronted with the dead body of his adversary. No sooner did he
come into his presence than the CI-DEVANT corpse found his feet,
"showed fight," and roared out, "Come on," with a most unghostlike
vehemence. The fury of the mob cooled down; the people thought the man
had been murdered, whereas the shot, fortunately for both, had glanced
over the forehead without doing any serious injury. Taking advantage of
this lull, the fugitive declared that the wounded man had been robbing
him. This turned the tables, and, inspired by the hootings of the now
indignant mob, the "dead man" took to his heels and disappeared.
The diggers in Pennyweight Flat, Nicholson's Gully, Lever Flat, Dirty
Dick's Gully, Gibson's Flat, at the mouth of Dingley Dell, and in
Dingley Dell itself, were tolerably contented with their gains,
although in many instances, the parties who were digging in the
centre of the gullies, or what is called "the slip," experienced
considerable trouble in bailing the water out of their holes.
