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7 Jun 2008 6:44 PM

Rising earlier than usual, George hurried down to his pre-planned vantage point in the centre of the town.
If George needed concealment at any time, he had many places that he could wriggle into, keeping out of sight of casual observers.
He picked the most convenient of his 'hides', an unused doorway to a deserted store.  This doorway had empty boxes stacked up in the set back entrance, and afforded George a good vantage point to see the entire main street of Targaroo.
For three hours, George continued his vigil, not once revealing himself to few early risers that passed through the town.  His determination was fired by his expectations of the fruits of his efforts.
A strange, to the town, utility drove slowly down past where George was hiding.  He noticed a large, redheaded man at the wheel.  Taking particular effort to commit to memory the number plate, and the general description of the vehicle, George waited for the ute to park.
Bull McGinnis drove the length of the main street twice, checking to see if anyone, or anything should give him concern.  Satisfied that the coast was clear he left the vehicle, walked onto the footpath, and waited for his henchmen to acknowledge his presence.
George had noticed the arrival of Mick Jackson and Bill Williams just ten minutes before Bull McGinnis, and watched as they looked about before giving their boss a signal.
McGinnis took a wallet form his pocket, showed it hastily to the distant stock thieves, and dropped it into a garbage bin at the side of the kerb.  Turning quickly, he entered his vehicle and drove off carefully; normally, not too slow or too quick to avoid attracting attention.
The two men made their way down the footpath and retrieved the wallet from the bin, and looked around to see if they had been sighted, not knowing that George had taken in every detail of the activities.
For some unexplained reason the two men went back to their transport, tossed the wallet casually through the open passenger side window to land on the seat, and headed for the Railway Hotel.
George could not believe his luck.  Trembling with excitement he left his hiding place and scurried towards the vehicle. 
One pass, and George had seen the wallet, and on the second pass his arm darted in and out of the cabin with lightening speed.  The wallet was now snug in George's trouser pocket.
One matter that George had not accounted for, and one that only happened by chance was that Mick Jackson had looked back just before stepping into the pub.
Mick had noticed George walking past the vehicle, but was not observant enough to see the well-practised slight of hand from George. However, he wondered at the dirty old bloke's presence.
George headed for his shack, excitement, fantasies, and dreams of all kind running through his head.
Shaking from the anticipation, he opened the wallet to find papers for the transport of cattle across the Queensland, New South Wales border.  There were also instructions on times and directions of travel that would bring the truck load of stolen, Riverview Station bullocks to a property just seven miles into the southern state.
Although the evidence in the wallet was conclusive proof for a conviction for stock theft, George felt a little disappointed with his find.
A wallet was supposed to hold money, but there was none, just these papers.

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