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morning!’
‘The bills!’ Frere saw but one explanation. Sarah had re-
ceived the proceeds of some of Rex’s rogueries. Rex’s letter
to his father and the mention of the sum of money ‘in the
old house in Blue Anchor Yard’ flashed across his mem-
ory. Perhaps Sarah had got the money from the receiver
and appropriated it. But why invest it in an oil and tallow
warehouse? He had always been suspicious of the woman,
because he had never understood her, and his suspicions
redoubled. Convinced that there was some plot hatching,
he determined to use all the advantages that his position
gave him to discover the secret and bring it to light. The
name of the man to whom Rex’s letters had been addressed
was ‘Blicks”. He would find out if any of the convicts under
his care had heard of Blicks. Prosecuting his inquiries in
the proper direction, he soon obtained a reply. Blicks was
a London receiver of stolen goods, known to at least a doz-
en of the black sheep of the Sydney fold. He was reputed
to be enormously wealthy, had often been tried, but never
convicted. Frere was thus not much nearer enlightenment
than before, and an incident occurred a few months after-
wards which increased his bewilderment He had not been
long established in his magistracy, when Blunt came to
claim payment for the voyage of Sarah Purfoy. ‘There’s that
schooner going begging, one may say, sir,’ said Blunt, when
the office door was shut.
‘What schooner?’
‘The Franklin.’
Now the Franklin was a vessel of three hundred and
For the Term of His Natural Life