CHAPTER XVIII.

Racers as Mounts for the Bushrangers; The Shooting of Lowry; The ---- Bushrangers visit Bathurst; They hold the Town of Canowindra for Three Days; Burke Shot by Mr. Keightley; Female Bushrangers; Death of O'Meally at Goimbla; A Newspaper Man and his Wife Stuck Up; Lively Times During the Christmas Holidays.

The chief necessity for a successful career as a bushranger was a good supply of racehorses, and hence it was almost impossible for any person to keep a really valuable saddle horse during this "Reign of Terror," as the newspapers of the district called it. Special raids were organised by members of the gang to obtain a supply of horses, and the bushrangers frequently travelled upwards of two hundred miles to secure a horse which had made a name on the turf. Thus on May 18th Harry Wilson, trainer for Mr. Allen Hancock, was exercising the racer Jacky Morgan, within sight of the police station in the town of Burrowa, when Gilbert rode up and said "I want that horse." "For God's sake don't ruin me, Johnny," exclaimed the jockey. "Hold your---- jaw and get off," was the reply, as the bushranger brought out his ready revolver. The robber specially cautioned Wilson not to "sing out" so that the police could hear, or he'd "be sorry for it," and in spite of his remonstrances the jockey was compelled to dismount and walk home to inform his employer. Mr. Hancock told him to saddle another horse. He then took down his gun carefully, wiped and loaded it, and went away swearing that he would never return until he had recovered Jacky Morgan.

Gilbert also took a racer out of Mr. Hammond's stables at Junee. He stole the racers Chinaman and Micky Hunter from the stables of Mr. J. Roberts at Currawang. When leading Micky Hunter out of his stall Gilbert patted his neck and said, "You're the---- cove we want." Old Comus and several other horses were taken out of Mr. Iceley's stables at Coombing. The old horse had had a good career on the course, and had been set apart for stud purposes, and Mr. Iceley offered a large sum to the bushrangers to leave him alone, but Gilbert said, "There's a good gallop in him yet," and led him away. But the bushrangers did not devote their whole time to capturing race horses. Robberies on the highway continued as frequently as usual. The police, however, were not idle. In August, Sergeant James Stephenson, Constable Herbst, and Detectives Camphin and Saunderson traced Lowry to Thomas Vardy's, Limerick Races Hotel, at Cook's Vale Creek. When asked if there were any lodgers there, Vardy pointed to the door of one of the bedrooms and replied, "Yes, one there." Stephenson knocked at the door, but there was no reply. The sergeant knocked again and called out "Come out Lowry, it's no use." As no answer was returned, the sergeant placed his shoulder against the door, and tried to burst it open. Immediately some one inside fired a pistol, the bullet from which passed through the panel of the door between the two policemen. Stephenson again called on Lowry to come out or it would be "the worse for him," and the bushranger replied "I'll fight you, you----. All of you." He again fired through the door, and the bullet wounded one of the police horses tied to the verandah. Sergeant Stephenson called on Vardy to take the horses to a safe place, and when they were out of sight, he and Constable Herbst again tried to force the door by leaning their combined weight against it. Suddenly Lowry threw the door open, and the sergeant almost fell into the room. The bushranger shouted "Come on, you---- I'll fight you fair," and fired. The police returned the fire. Stephenson, who was inside the room, took steady aim and pulled the trigger. The robber fell, saying "I'm done for! Where's the priest?" The police arrested Vardy and all his family, as well as a man named Larry Cummins, who was in the room with Lowry, but who took no part in the fight. When this ceremony had been completed, Lowry was made as comfortable as circumstances permitted while a messenger was sent off to the nearest town for a doctor. For more than an hour detective Camphin sat by Lowry's side reading prayers from a Catholic prayer-book which Mrs. Vardy lent him. The robber gradually grew weaker and died. His last words were, "Tell 'em I died game." The police borrowed a cart from a farmer who lived about a mile away from the hotel, and the body was placed in it, covered with a blanket, and started awa