Saturday March 1 1879
I had a chat the other day with a squatter whose run is all too near the locate of the Kellys for its owner’s peace of mind, and property. My friend is tall, muscular and full of nerve. His face is richly bronzed, and a heavy moustache of tawny brown hair hides a determined mouth. Over a bottle of Champagne we thus chatted:-
“I suppose you have not seen the Kellys on your run?”
“No, not exactly, but I have heard their signals. One night I was returning on horseback through the bush, which was as black as Erebus, when I heard a peculiar whistle, shrill like from the crag on the right. It was replied to from the crag below, down which my horse plunged. I am convinced there were men bringing food to the gang.”
“There is a great deal of sympathy in the district for the outlaws, is there not?”
“Abundance of it. The Kellys know this very well, and try to foster the feeling by declaring that they have no quarrels with civilians. If they were to shoot a selector or stockman, I believe the country would be too hot for them. I fancy I owe my safety hitherto pretty much to this policy of theirs.”
“Have you incurred their hostility?”
“I believe so. They credit me with lending aid to the police, and I have been warned that they will torture or shoot me. Of course it was impossible to trace the whereabouts of the senders of the message, as it passed through half a score of months before it reached my ears.”
“You would require to go about well armed.”
“Safer without pistols. Suppose you did drop one of the gang. The others would speedily make an end of you.”
 “Then you must live in a state of constant suspense?”
“Yes, especially at nights. I can’t get a domestic to stay on the station, and my old housekeeper, who won’t desert me, hides in a haystack of an evening, and passes the night there for safety.”
“Do you think the Kellys are kept as well informed of what goes on as the people seem to imagine.”
“Yes, I do know that my every movement is watched by their partisans and even my servants are followed. Kelly’s sister undoubtedly conveys this information to them. When she leaves town a couple of troopers invariably attend her, but she throws them out of the running before they have gone a mile into the bush, and nothing more is seen or heard of her till a day afterwards.”
“Do you think she should be arrested?”
“By no means. Such a step would, I firmly believe, lead to much loss of life. The Kellys, especially Ned, are very fond of their sisters, and if they were locked up I fear they would shoot down everyone they encountered. They know they are fighting with a halter around their necks, and that three or thirty lives spilt will make no difference to their doom. Let her remain at liberty and she will at least furnish to the police some indication of their neighborhood.”
“What about the police?”
“There are many brave determined men among them, who desire nothing better than to meet the gang face to face. But there is altogether too much red tapeism about headquarters. That and the newspapers are the salvation of the outlaws. Indeed the press put the gang up to the bank robbery. They suggested it was a likely thing for the Kellys to try and they tried it. Then some reporter suggested they might upset a train, and the rascals seem to have endeavoured to act up to the suggestion. What with waiting for orders and combating the intelligent assistance given to the gang by the newspapers, the constabulary won’t take them within the next six months. Besides, should Kelly’s sister be apprehended or the Habeas Corpus Act be suspended in the district, I fear many will join the Kellys and set the police at defiance.”
“That would be a most undesirable state of things.”
“Hardly worse than at present. In fact, these four larrikins, for they are little else, have established a reign of terror over the district. Even the police seem smitted with dread of them. Else why should the gold escort, ten men armed to the teeth, have started from Mansfield on a Sunday in order to deceive the Kellys who were supposed to intend to waylay them on the Monday? Why, if ten thousand pounds in bullion would prove a bait to the gang, then by all means push into the bush with it, and then let ten try to fight the gang of four. Such prudence will be mistaken for pusillanimity; and will result in making them still more daring and reckless in their performances.”
“I do not know the locality, but it is said to afford capital shelter. Is that so?”
“Yes. A hundred men might pass within twenty feet of the gang and never suspect their presence. Then the Kellys know the short cuts across the ranges, and can ride in a day to a point the police could not reach in three. Ned Kelly knows the country thoroughly, and that local knowledge will serve him well.”
“Do you think they will clear out of Victoria?”
“No; they are safer on ground they are well acquainted with, than on strange soil. They would have nothing to gain and everything to lose by crossing into New South Wales. Here they have numbers of friends; there they would be friendless and starving.”
“The bank robbery was an audacious act.”
”Yes; I rode up to the bank while it appears the Kellys were within. Seeing everything quiet, I concluded Mr. Scott and his family were out holidaying. I suppose I should have been shot had I found my way indoors.”
“Do you think there is any truth in the statements as to Sergeant Kennedy’s last moments?”
“Not a jot. There were, I am told, four bullet wounds in his breast, indicating that each man had fired into him. I believe, he was killed the moment was overpowered. I don’t think the letter to Cameron is bone fide. My impression is it was written by one of the Kelly’s sympathizers.”
“Your time must be pretty full of the Kellys?”
“Far too much so. Sometimes I forget the day of the week while bothering my head about them. The value of life and property is not all enhanced by their vicinity, I assure you. Then the excitement is kept up by all sorts of sham information being sent to the police, who of course feel bound to examine into it, so that no possible clue may be lost. But the system of having to wait for orders when important facts are ascertained, and the trail should be instantly followed up, spoils everything.”
“You believe that an ounce of common sense is worth a pound of instructions?”
“Yes; and that sensible daring men should have more discretionary power accorded to them. For myself but enough of that obtrusive individual. This gold seal is really delicious. To your health, “Free Lance!”
“To your safety, O modern Abraham of many flocks!” – “FREE LANCE,” - in Exchange
 Jack’s note: the unnamed squatter may have been John Evans (1843 - 1934) of Whitfield station, an ironic coincidence as Ned had worked as a ploughman for Evans and he was well treated by the grazier. At Jerilderie, seeing Evan’s brand on police horses, Ned thought so highly of the man that the Kellys took the horses, assumed by Ned to have been stolen by the police and released them at Whitfield station. Evans had sold the horses to the New South Wales Police and returned them to Jerilderie.
 This Neducational Supplement was brought to you by Ironoutlaw.com and Captain Jack Hoyle (retired).
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The following article was published in newspapers across Australia; only nineteen days after the Kellys rode into the sunset after their adventures at Jerilderie. The roving reporter interviews an unnamed squatter and provides a fascinating glimpse into the deprivations suffered by the landed Australian gentry and their attitude toward the Kellys - while sipping French Champagne. Written before the swashbuckling Jerilderie robbery, the squatter claims the Kellys would never go to New South Wales and provides contemporary insights into the inefficiencies of police command and the difficulties faced by policemen in the pursuit of the outlaws. 
Steve
Hart descendant Paul O'Keefe has alerted me to yet
another ridiculous Kelly Gang claim (the latest in a line
of many). Not just content to see Dan escape, this time
around Steve also made a bolt from the Glenrowan Inn
fire (so why was Ned heading back when they had both left?).
Lucky Steve also headed north where he lived a long and
happy life in Queensland under the name of Billy Meade. Apparently
this Meade character confessed about his double identity
on his deathbed in 1938. Well, in that case, it
