The Ivanhoe sailed, and with her, Moreton; my first 업소알바 duty was to hear the cases set down at the Court House, amongst them of course being O’Regan’s drunk. When his case came up, I fined him ten shillings; upon which he gazed at me and remarked, “I’ve seen that blank man up to his backside in mud at the Woodlark, hunting for pennyweights of gold, and now he sits there like a blanky lord and fines me ten bob.” “Yes, O’Regan,” I remarked, “very true; and now that blank man is going to add five pounds to your fine for contempt of court!”

The night after Moreton’s departure I was peacefully sleeping,77 being dog tired after a hard day, when I was awakened by some one shaking my hammock. Jumping up I saw Robert Whitten, and demanded what he meant by coming and disturbing a tired man at that hour. “So-and-so’s wife has died suddenly,” he said, naming a European carpenter, who was married to a native woman, “and we want you to come and look at the corpse, to find out why she died.” Reluctantly I dressed, called a couple of police, and went off corpse gazing. I found the widower looking very distressed and frightened; he told me his wife had complained of a sharp pain in her chest at different times, and that night it had been very bad. “I sent to every store,” he said, “and I bought chlorodyne and pain killer, fever mixture and pink pills, cough mixtures and Mother Seigel’s syrup; I bought every sort of medicine they had got, and I gave her some of each, hoping that one would fix her up. There are the bottles, you can see I’ve done my best; I then sent for Bob Whitten to ask him if he knew of anything else, and while Bob was here, she died. Is there going to be an inquest, and shall I bring the body up to your house?” “No, you won’t,” I said; “you will keep it here until it is buried, and you need not worry about an inquest. I think your wife died of heart disease, before all those drugs you poured down her throat had time to poison her; but no one will ever know now.”

The following morning I crawled out to breakfast at about ten o’clock, feeling a horrible worm, and found an immaculately dressed Symons sitting on the verandah waiting for me. “Come to breakfast, Mr. Symons?” “No, thank you,” said Symons in a pious voice, “I had my breakfast two hours ago; I adhere strictly to office hours.” “You are a lucky dog,” I remarked; “it seems to me that my hours are all day and all night as well. What’s the trouble now?” “The gaol returns,” he replied; “the gaol is half full of people under Warrants of Remand; the R.M. has been too busy, and latterly too ill, to attend to them; we are over-crowded, and unless something is done, there will be a lot of sickness. The Mambare men, too, are giving no end of trouble, and should be transferred elsewhere; I’m getting anxious about what will happen when you leave with the bulk of the police.” I satisfied Symons by promising to inquire at once into the cases of all the men on remand; and, after breakfast, began upon the men charged with the murders of John Green, Assistant Resident Magistrate at Tamata, his police, and five European miners.