It wasn't a great pub, but given it was the only one within a hundred miles, everyone went there.
I was ten beers in, and thus the only one willing to talk to the blow-in when he approached me.
"Was wonderin' if you'd get round to me!"
"Yes, well, Alfred Jones, The Bulletin. I'm just here to write a story about the bushranger Black Jack."
"Well I ain't him."
"I wasn't accusing you. I'm trying to work out why the authorities are having such a hard time catching him."
"Because everyone here hates coppers as much as me.
And him."
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