Orchid Bay: A gripping Australian saga of conflict and passion by Patricia Shaw

Author:Patricia Shaw [Shaw, Patricia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780755389537
Publisher: Headline
Published: 2011-10-26T22:00:00+00:00

OUTLAW APPEALS TO THE CHRONICLE

Dear Sir,

I am writing to you to ask for a fair go. I am being blamed for the gold robbery and the shootings out at Blackwater Creek. I never laid claim to be a perfeck citizen in some ways but I never had nothing to do with that crime, you have my word on that. I never seen none of that gold and the same goes for Willoughby. He’s innocent like me. Folk who know me know I’m not going to let the police pin the blame on me only because they can’t solve the crime. I don’t know who done it and neether does that Willoughby but we reckon Carnegie knows more than he’s saying. I been asking about and I never yet hear of any gang of knowed outlaws who had any part in this. I say its an inside job and stick by that. Innocent men are being hounded while the police sit on their laurels.

I remain,

Your servant, innocent,

James McPherson.

While Allyn Carnegie was frantically packing, his breakfast forgotten, intent on quitting Maryborough on the first available transport, be it ship or coach, the town was in uproar. Walt was right. Most of his readers believed McPherson’s letter, that he was innocent at least, because they wanted to. McPherson was a popular outlaw, his exploits had become folklore, and it was a tremendous relief to hear from the man, in his own words, that he was innocent of horrific murders that had upset the town.

People began converging on the Chronicle to read the letter for themselves. Ever obliging, Walt had posted it in a glass case by the steps to his offices, usually reserved for government proclamations, to avoid damage to this important missive. He had also telegraphed the complete text to the Brisbane Courier, and their response was immediate. By this time he knew that his coverage would make headline news all over the country, because he had decided to champion McPherson’s cause and, by extension, that of Willoughby. He realised, as his pen flew, rewriting the story of the ambush and the people involved for interstate consumption, that if Willoughby was innocent it would save him the fifty-pound reward he’d posted in a reckless and far too magnanimous gesture.

Had McPherson known the nationwide interest now being created by his letter, which he’d had someone post in Brisbane, he’d have been delighted, but he was far from civilisation. Being so well known, he’d acted as lookout, or cockatoo as the expression went, while his mates robbed a tiny bank two hundred miles inland from the scene of the fires.

Sergeant Pollock came pounding into Walt’s office, slamming the paper down on his desk.

‘What do you think you’re doing, publishing that letter? You should have brought it to me as soon as you received it.’

‘Why? You’re getting to read it same as everyone else.’

‘Was there any accompanying note? Anything that might give us an indication as to his whereabouts?’

‘No. Only the envelope, marked Brisbane. But I hardly think he’d be in Brisbane.

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