his own chums, so that it was feared he might escape with his booty, as no one seemed “game” to descend the fore companion ladder and encounter this sinister crowd below.  Mackinnon at once took the cause in hand.  Telling the robbed man to follow him, so as to help identification, he, without an instant’s hesitation, descended the ladder.  A few of us followed, to support our gallant leader.  “I want the thief,” he said; “he must restore the gold.  You honest diggers are not to lose your earnings in this way.”  So saying, he pressed forward into the crowd, followed by his guide; and when at last the latter pointed out the culprit, he seized his arm and dragged him back to the ladder’s foot, where he peremptorily ordered him to restore the stolen gold.  All this was done in less time than I have taken to tell it.  The thief, overwhelmed by the suddenness of the action, and still more, perhaps, by the want of expected support from his “pals,” promptly brought out the gold; and thus ended a little drama highly illustrative of those stirring times.

On my return I mentioned this circumstance to Wilson, and we both agreed that Mackinnon was just the man we were all looking for at that critical period for the headship of the colony’s police.  Wilson was in full power as owner and editor of the rising “Argus”, while I was senior member for Melbourne; and between us we reckoned upon influencing the Government to make at once this appointment, and in that view we went straight to Captain Lonsdale, our Chief Secretary.  We were just too late, for the appointment, as we learnt, had already been decided in favour of Mr., afterwards Sir William, Mitchell.  I do not doubt that this incident had something to do with Wilson’s subsequent invitation to Mackinnon to join him in the “Argus” interest.  And here he worked so effectively as to make Wilson just a trifle sensitive as to people thinking that the new hand did even more for the common cause than the old one.  But, as the saying has it, “Comparisons are odious.”  They are, besides, quite unnecessary, for both have proved themselves most worthy men, fighting their life’s course valiantly and well, and that, too, with a rare success.

There can, I hope, be no betrayal of confidence in repeating what rumour gave as to “Argus” fortunes.  The net profits about this time—­that is to say, towards 1878, when Wilson died—­were put at between 22,000 and 24,000 pounds; but this, I believe, must have since very considerably increased.  Wilson had the larger moiety; Spowers, who was the later importation, having a comparatively small interest.