Man of Two Tribes by Arthur W. Upfield Page B

was welcomed by Bony who felt distinctly uneasy in that eerie cavern. They stood watching him, waiting, as he sat on the pack-saddle and fell to making the inevitable cigarette. Their behaviour was unlike normal people, who would have sought information and explanation,and he wondered what this attitude could mean. He recognised the wisdom of delaying satisfaction of his own curiosity.
    â€œMake yourselves easy,” he said. “I’ll talk first, and before I begin one of you answer a question. Are you being kept here against your will?”
    All spoke at once, and he waved them to silence. That some of them had been imprisoned here for a long time was evidenced by their faces, and a child could have deduced that they would not have remained had they found a way of escape.
    â€œYou know who I am, and what I represent,” he began. “You know that I am a tracker of men, but you don’t know my personal views on crime and criminals.
    â€œI did not frame the laws. Officially, I am not concerned whether a law is sound or futile. Officially, I am not concerned with whatever penalty is imposed for breaking a law. Personally, as a private citizen, I have an abhorrence of murder, the crime which concerns us. To make myself clear, there is another point.
    â€œEach of you men committed a crime and was released when constituted authority chose to think you had been sufficiently punished. Because you did not comply with certain conditions I am able, officially, to prove that you were forcibly prevented from compliance. That isn’t a rash statement, for I believe I have the key to the reason behind this enforced detention, if you do not know it. Do you?”
    â€œWe do not, Inspector,” Havant said.
    â€œWe’d ruddy well like to,” snorted Riddell.
    â€œWe’ll pass it for the moment,” Bony continued. “I was assigned to find a missing woman known as Myra Thomas, who disappeared from a train. The Police held nothing against her, following her acquittal, but the Police were, and are, interested in her because she is a missing person. You are all missing persons, and it is the duty of every policeman to search for such.
    â€œI set out to look for Myra Thomas, and eventually was led to this place by the aid of several clues, including her scarf. Having located her, I would have freed you also, had I not been found wanting in wariness. As I see it now, I am one with you, a prisoner. I have no doubt that you have tried many times to find a way to freedom, and with the introduction of my fresh mind, we may solve this problem.
    â€œNow for the crux of future relations between you and me. If anything happened to me, and eventually you found a way of escape from this hole, you would never find your way back to civilisation, even if you were not hunted down by the persons who brought you here, or by their agents. We are now more than two hundred miles from the nearest homestead, and in the most relentlessly hostile country in Australia.
    â€œSo that, as convicted murderers, you may have strong animosity toward me, a police officer, but you must realise that even at this stage you are dependent on me to get you out from this hole and back to civilisation. To employ a nautical cliché, we sink or swim together.”
    â€œI’m not swimmin’,” growled Riddell.
    Myra Thomas would have spoken had not Dr. Havant turned to stare at the gorilla. He said, quietly:
    â€œRiddell.”
    â€œI don’t aim...”
    â€œRiddell, I am reading your thoughts.”
    Riddell’s eyes avoided Havant. He looked at his naked feet, and his huge body seemed to shrink. Bony had never seen a human being so quickly reduced to abjectness. There was no threat expressed in the doctor’s words or by his face, yet his domination was supreme. Bony, feeling the sudden tension, asserted himself.
    â€œTwo tasks confront me,” he told them. “To apprehend those who have