captain ordered me to do so; it had not been fired recently.'
'Wasn't that proof that he was speaking the truth?'
'How could I tell? He might have been going to fire, or picked up one that had not been used. Besides, my officer told me to arrest him, and, of course, I obeyed orders. He was in company with men who had just committed a felony, at any rate.'
'I see – evil communications. You may go down, sergeant.'
The next witness was the captain of the Dundonald.
'My name is Seth Dannaker, Master Mariner, out of Boston, U.S.A. I was lately in command of the steamer Dundonald– now at the bottom of the river Darling. I had come from Pooncarrie, carrying forty-five free labourers, last Saturday, without obstruction or disturbance. I took wood on board, and tied up, with swamp all round, a little below Poliah. We heard that a large camp of Unionists were waiting to attack us there; they had wire ropes across the river. We had steam up all night and a watch was kept. About four o'clock A.M. a mob of disguised men rushed on board the boat, and took possession of her. They knocked me about, and put me and the crew on board the barge, now moored at Moorara. They afterwards set the Dundonald on fire. She drifted down the river, and finally sank. They took possession of the free labourers, and counted them. They had guns and revolvers, threatening to shoot me and all who resisted them. I have lost all my personal effects, including money. I thought this was a free country; now I know it isn't.'
Cross-examined by Mr. Carter, appearing for the prisoners – with the exception of William Hardwick.
'You say you were threatened by one or more of the Unionists. Can you recognise any of the prisoners now before the Court?'
'Yes; the man in irons. I was told his name was Abershaw. He put a revolver to my head, swearing he would shoot me if I resisted; also that he would burn the b – y steamer, and roast me and the Agent of the Employers' Association for bringing up blacklegs.'
'Was he sober?'
'I cannot say. He was much excited, and more like a madman than any one in his senses. Two or three men struck me. I cannot identify any other prisoners. I had left my revolver in the cabin, or I should have shot some of them.'
'Did you see any persons firing at the vessel or crew?'
'Yes; there was a line of men on the bank firing with rifles at the crew. They wounded two of them. I cannot identify any of them.'
Cross-examined by Mr. Biddulph.
'Will you look at the man in the corner of the dock nearest to you? Did you see him firing or carrying a gun?'
'I never saw him at all, to my knowledge. Of course there was confusion.'
Next witness. 'My name is James Davidson. I am the Agent of the Employers' Association. On or about the 28th August 1894, I came up in the Dundonald in charge of free labourers (forty-five) to a spot near Poliah. The police had been sent for from Tolarno. We had heard of the Unionists intending to obstruct the boat, and so kept watch above and below. Next morning, just before daylight, a number of men rushed on board. One of them pointed a gun at the man who tried to set the boat free, threatening to kill him if he moved. They went into the wheel-house, and struck the captain; I heard them tell him they would kill him and burn the boat. He was knocked about badly. I got a few blows before the leaders got the men quiet. Then they started getting my men out.'
By the Crown Prosecutor. 'Whom do you mean by your men?'
'The free labourers.'
'Did they resist, or go quietly?'
'Some went quietly – others resisted, and were thrown overboard. A few were only in their shirts, as they had not had time to dress. They were then set up in a line and counted, to see if they were all there. A guard was put over them.'
'Was the guard armed?'
'Yes. Another gang was busy unloosing the steamer, and preparing her for the fire. They smashed in the cabins and stole everything. Nothing escaped them when they began to pillage. I lost my portmanteau, clothes, and money. Everything was taken out of my cabin, leaving me nothing but the clothes I had on.'
'Were the Unionists much excited?'
'Excited? – raving mad, I should call it. We were lucky to get off with our lives. Fortunately, few persons were injured. We received every attention when we got to Moorara. There is a large Union Camp at Tolarno. They have given out that they intend to burn two more steamers, for carrying free labourers.'
'Do you identify the prisoners in the dock?'
'Two of them. The man in irons struck the captain, and said he would burn the boat and roast him alive. The one with the large beard was the one who said he would shoot the man who was unloosing the cable. The others I have no knowledge of.'
By Mr. Carter. 'Did you see the prisoner William Hardwick – the one at this end of the dock?'
'Not that I am aware of.'
'You said you lost some money?'
'Yes, ten or twelve pounds; it was in a purse in my portmanteau. I had to draw on the Association for a few pounds, as I was left penniless and without a change of wearing apparel.'
'I suppose that was a form of "picketing," in accordance with the "ethics of war."'
'"Pickpocketing," I should call it.'
'One moment, Mr. Davidson,' interposed Mr. Biddulph, as the Agent turned to leave the witness-box. 'Did you see the prisoner at this end of the dock, carrying a gun or in any way joining in this creditable work?'
'I never saw him at all.'
'That will do.'
'Call Janus Stoate, witness for the Crown.'
As his name was mentioned, Bill turned his head towards the door where the witnesses came in, with a look of murderous hate, such as no man had ever seen before on his good-natured countenance.
Jenny, as she looked anxiously towards the dock, hardly knew him. By that door was to walk in the man who had eaten many a time at his humble but plentiful table, and in return had treacherously denounced him, ruined his character, helped to deprive him of his hard-earned wages, gone near to render his children paupers, and break his wife's heart. A man of his easy-going, confiding character, easily deceived, is not prone to suspicion, but when injured – outraged in his deepest, tenderest feelings – is terrible in wrath. As Bill unconsciously clenched his hands, and stared at the open door, he looked as one eager to tear his enemy limb from limb.
But the thronged Court was disappointed, and Bill's vengeance delayed, as no Janus Stoate appeared.
Mr. Biddulph, who had left the Court, now appeared in company with a mounted trooper, whose semi-military attire told of a rapid ride. He spoke in a low voice to the Sub-Inspector of Police, who thereupon proceeded to address the Judge.
'If your Honour pleases, there will be a trifling delay before this witness can give his evidence, owing to circumstances to which I cannot at present allude. As the hour for your Honour's luncheon has nearly arrived, may I suggest a short adjournment? I can assure your Honour that I make the application for sufficient reasons.'
'I am opposed,' answered the Judge, 'to adjournments in criminal cases; but on Mr. Sub-Inspector's assurance, I consent to relax my rule. Let the Court be adjourned until half-past one o'clock.'
There was a gasp of relief, half of satisfaction, half of disappointment, from the crowd as they hurried from the Court to snatch a hasty meal and ventilate their opinions.
'It's another dodge of the Government to block our workers from gettin' justice,' said one oratorical agitator, partially disguised as a working-man, and whose soft hands betrayed his immunity from recent toil. 'It's a conspiracy hatched up to block Delegate Stoate's evidence agin that blackleg Hardwick.'
'You be hanged!' said a rough-looking bushman, who had just hung his horse up to one of the posts in front of the Murrumbidgee Hotel. 'You won't have so much gab when you see Delegate Stoate, as you call him, before the Court, and some one as can tell the truth about him. Bill Hardwick's as honest a cove as ever walked, and