Year: 1879

got among dissolute companions, until,
attracted by what weak-minded boys
would think dashing life, had come by
rapid steps to this terrible depth of
crime.


The case was simple-his ouly care
seemed to be to clear himself of the
actual murder of McCabe. The law,
however, could take no cognizance of
this-whether he fred the shot or not
he was equally guilty of the murder.
He was committed, tried and sentenced
to be hanged. Subsequently his SEN
tence was commuted to Imprisonment
for life, and when last heard of him
he was still an inmate of Darlinghurst
jail.


An extraordinary statement of his was
that on leaving the public house, he had
to be helped on to his horse in an almost
fainting condition, and yet held up
through that exhausting escape; that a
day later, by his directions, his mate ex-
tracted the ball from his shoulder with
his knife; and yet when taken, though
weak and i'll, no trace of wounds save
the scars remained. He had parted from
Rutherford, as his enfeebled state was
danger to both, and he had not had the
hardihood to attempt to make his way
through the Gordon formed by the vigi-
liant guardians of the peace.


But to his companion he was true as
steel, and would give no clue to the
direction Rutherford had taken.


The latter. who was much more ex-
perienced bushman, and in stronger
health, was successful lii evading his
fate for some time longer. As was after.
ward ascertained, he had contrived to
elude the police, and made his way to
the McQuarie river, some three hundred
miles nearer Sidney than the scene Of
his late terrible outrage. He was a
smart young fellow, native Australian,
though of English parentage, and OF
good address. Arriving in a district
where he was unknown, he had no diff
Guilty in getting employment, and was
for some time engaged breaking in horses
on cattle station, duty he was we'll
able to perform.


Had he been contented to remain at
honest work he might have long escap-
ed detection; but it was not to be. He
was soon at his old work, and one day
walked into the Pine Ridge hotel, near
Canonba, kept by Frenchman named
Beauvais, and unceremoniously an
nounced: 81 am Rutherford. Bail up. +"
The process was without excitement,
orderly and business-like, and Beauvals
knew there was no alternative but to
submit.


He pleaded that he was not a rich pub
lican, and begged moderate terms, offer
ing any refreshmeht he demanded.
Rutherford money and nothing else
"that or your life." With his revolver
at the head of the unhappy Frenchman,
he marched him into the private room
was the cash box was kept, and stood
by while his victim reluctantly and slow
ly opened 1t. However, he stood little
too close, and Beauvais, as he described
it to me, thought: "I will not part with
my money without struggle" There
was no time for bandying words or re
monstrance. Quick as thought he
threw up his antagonists revolver arm,
and grappled with him in deadly strug.
gle. He was a plucky fellow, but the
odds were against him. Rutherford
was a younger and stronger man, armed,
and now desperate.


Beauvais' grasp on the revolver arm
prevented Rutherford from getting an
opportunity to fire; still the issue could
not long be doubtful.


At this moment in the unequal COM
bat some good chance caused one of the
men to stumble, and both fell heavily
to the ground. There was loud re-
port; Rutherford's pistol had gone of
in the fall, and Beauvais, jumping to his
feet, found that the wretched murderer
had perished by his own hand, and with
out struggle.


I am glad to be able to add that this
plucky act was not left unrewarded, the
New South Wales government present
ing Beauvais with 9100 for his gallant
conduct in having been instrumental in
ridding sodiety of this dangerous and
desperate felon.