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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/36480-8.txt b/36480-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d2be020 --- /dev/null +++ b/36480-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7415 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sweep Winner, by Nat Gould + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Sweep Winner + +Author: Nat Gould + +Release Date: June 22, 2011 [EBook #36480] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SWEEP WINNER *** + + + + +Produced by paksenarrion, Suzanne Shell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + + + + The Sweep Winner + + + + + The Sweep Winner + + By Nat Gould + + [Illustration] + + London + John Long, Limited + 12, 13 & 14 Norris Street, Haymarket + _All rights reserved_ + + + _Readers are requested to note that all the characters + in this story are purely fictitious, and the names are + not intended to refer to any real person or persons._ + + + + + TO THE MEMORY OF MY SON + CAPTAIN HERBERT R. GOULD, M.C., R.A.F. + FLIGHT COMMANDER, 18TH SQUADRON + _Killed in Action on the Western Front, August, 1918_ + + + + + +Contents + + + _Chapter_ _Page_ + + I. THE GLITTERING WIRE 11 + II. IN THE HUT 21 + III. A STRANGE SITUATION 31 + IV. "IT'S FOR A WOMAN" 41 + V. WHY JIM CAME TO THE HUT 51 + VI. "COME" 61 + VII. THE FACE IN THE WATER 71 + VIII. WAYS AND MEANS 81 + IX. THE CHINAMAN'S SHOP 91 + X. THE ACCUSATION 102 + XI. JERRY, JOURNALIST 113 + XII. IN SEARCH OF HORSES 123 + XIII. LEIGH HEARS STRANGE THINGS 133 + XIV. "A MAGNIFICENT BRUTE" 143 + XV. THE BIG SHOW 153 + XVI. MRS. PREVOST 163 + XVII. JEALOUSY 173 + XVIII. A QUESTION OF JOCKEYS 183 + XIX. MRS. PREVOST'S DILEMMA 194 + XX. THE DRAWER OF BARELLAN 205 + XXI. LAME 215 + XXII. SWEEP MONEY 225 + XXIII. BEATEN 236 + XXIV. AT FLEMINGTON 247 + XXV. HE LOOKED AT HIS TICKET 257 + XXVI. BARELLAN FALLS BACK 268 + XXVII. WHAT A FINISH! 279 + XVIII. A TERRIBLE SAVAGE 288 + XXIX. MAN AND HORSE LAY SIDE BY SIDE 299 + XXX. THE SWEEP WINNER'S HOME 311 + + + + +The Sweep Winner + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE GLITTERING WIRE + + +A man on horseback shaded his eyes with his hands as he looked along the +glittering line of wire which runs for hundreds of miles between New +South Wales and Queensland, and forms the great rabbit-proof fence, of +which he was one of the keepers. + +The blazing sunlight scorched all things living. Not a blade of grass +was to be seen. The baked ground gasped with thirst. The slight breeze +was like the breath from a huge furnace. + +The wire was hot and dazzling. Millions of glimmering specks and +hundreds of thousands of electric sparks danced on it in revelry. Merely +to look at the shimmering wire blinded the eyes. The horse turned his +head away. He was dried, shrivelled, mere skin and bone. Yet he was +strong, enduring, capable of going long journeys; an heroic beast, +fighting a terrific battle against tremendous odds; a faithful +companion, a true friend--always reliable. There was a mute appeal in +his puzzled pathetic eyes, which questioned why such things were; why he +should be rewarded for his efforts with a parched throat, an empty +stomach, and a hot skin. + +The man dismounted, carelessly placing his hand on the wire, then +snatching it back quickly, with a sharp oath. + +"Everything burns in this cursed country," he muttered. + +The horse rubbed his nose against the man's arm. + +"Ping, old fellow, it's hotter than hell. Thirsty? of course; so am I. +We'll have to thirst until we reach the next hole." + +The man was strong, well-built, six feet high; even the hard life had +not sapped his strength. His dark hair, moustache, and beard, gave him +a sombre appearance. His eyes shone fiercely under bushy brows. His +face, hands and arms were tanned a deep brown, as also was his chest, +where the shirt opened from the throat. He was no common man. His speech +was not that of the keepers of the fence, or the bulk of them, for there +were many and strange beings on these hundreds of miles of wire line. +The majority were old boundary riders, stockmen, tank sinkers, fencers, +teamsters. In another class were criminals, convicts and men whose hands +were against their fellows; who were dangerous sometimes, when they +scented betrayal, or suspected they were being tracked. The man looking +at the mirage in the distance belonged to none of these classes; he +stood out alone. They knew it, and gave him a show of respect, when they +met him, which was seldom. + +There must have been some weighty reason for him to bury himself in this +solitude, and to accept an occupation from which any educated man must +shrink. He wanted to be alone. He could not have come to a better +place. Boonara, the nearest bush town, was fifty miles away from where +he stood, and a dozen less from his hut. + +He descended upon Boonara at night, and waited for it to wake up. When +it did, surprise was visible on every face as one by one the inhabitants +looked forth from their habitation. The surprise was genuine. It was +long since a man of this stamp had entered Boonara. He was amused at the +people, and wondered if there was one respectably clean inhabitant. Then +he remembered the scarcity of water and pardoned the dirt. He was not +clean himself, but he felt wholesome. His body had been cared for as +much as possible during the week's tramp. + +He soon became acquainted with the Boonarites. They gathered round him, +and questions were levelled at him. It was quick firing to which he +responded with solitary shots. At the end of the first day the people of +Boonara were not a jot wiser about him. One fact was patent, he had +money. It was difficult to discover how much, but he "shouted" at Bill +Big's "shanty," and paid his footing, and was so far granted the freedom +of Boonara. + +The township of Boonara consisted of one main street, with irregular, +irresponsible-looking houses dotted about, built anyhow. They had been +put up at various times by many different sorts of men. Building +operations commenced at one end and continued at intervals until a sort +of street was formed. The first inhabitant had been a "keeper of the +fence," and he camped there because it was convenient to his work. +Gradually, in oddments, other men came to the place. It was a bachelor +township until some enterprising man, bolder than the rest, and more +saving, ventured to Sydney and returned with a wife. She was the only +woman in the township for a long time, and was regarded with a certain +amount of awe and wonder. The consensus of opinion was that she must +have had a terribly bad time in Sydney, or nothing would have induced +her to marry Jack and come to Boonara. The example set proved catching, +and other members of the bachelor community took unto themselves +partners. The township grew slowly, unlike the centres of big mining +districts which spring up mushroom-like in a night and often die away as +quickly. + +Boonara gathered in many of the keepers of the fence, who had tired of +the life and settled there on a mere pittance. It was not a prosperous +community; there was little conversation, and a lot of grumbling. Each +man regarded his neighbour with suspicion, not knowing who he was, +except by name, nor whence he came. All around Boonara was an arid +waste, except at certain seasons, few and far between, when rain came +sweeping in a deluge over the parched earth, filling up the gaping +cracks and crevices, hissing and swishing over the land, bringing life, +in every drop a new birth. Then the plains woke up. Miles upon miles of +dull-brown crumbling grassless spaces became green and refreshing. +Strange sights followed these deluges. In a mysterious manner sheep +appeared in thousands wandering across the plains, nibbling this +wonderful and succulent food from which they had been so long debarred. +Cattle came, mobs of horses, all branded, belonging to squatters miles +away. Nobody seemed to own the land round Boonara. At least no member of +the township had ever heard the name of an owner mentioned. They ran +what cattle, horses and sheep they possessed anywhere on it. There were +no enclosures, no square-mile paddocks. The only fence was the +glittering wire running along the border. + +There were very few men in the township who had seen the wire fence. But +they met the keepers of it at long intervals when they paid visits to +Bill's shanty. + +In all communities, however small, there is a fierce desire to look down +upon someone, to imagine a superiority. It is a trait which is +laughable, and sometimes pathetic. Although the Boonarites were far from +civilisation they had their pride, and regarded the keepers of the fence +as beings of an inferior order. As the keepers had no respect for the +inhabitants, everybody seemed satisfied with the state of affairs. + +There was one keeper of the fence whom the Boonarites placed upon an +equality with themselves, and that was the man who came upon them in the +night. + +They were amazed when he went on the glittering wire track. He was far +too good for that job; "he wouldn't stick it long" they declared. He did +"stick it," however, to their great surprise. The man was a mystery to +them, which is not to be wondered at, considering he was mostly a puzzle +to himself. His hut was forty miles away, and only three people had +visited him there. He did not encourage them. Loneliness sat lightly +upon him, so it seemed. Bill Bigs was the most frequent visitor, and +when he rode there, or drove in his buggy, it was seldom empty-handed. +Somewhere, hidden in the bowels of the earth beneath Bill's shanty, +there was mysteriously reported to be spirituous hoards of excellent +quality; these rarely saw the light of day in Boonara. Various +decoctions were served out over the bar, and there was a strange +resemblance in the flavour, no matter from which bottle they were +taken. A "nip" from one of Bill's underground bottles was like nectar +from the gods. + +The man on the fence was never served with inferior stuff, and when Bill +visited him he took with him of his best. + +Bill Bigs was rough and ready. Rumour credited him with having been in +league with bushrangers, before those undesirable and romantic figures +disappeared from the earth. Probably this was true, but Ben was no +longer an illegitimate preyer upon mankind. He was licensed to "rob" by +doctoring his goods. He prided himself on knowing a man when he saw one, +and he put down the occupier of the hut in this category. He, however, +knew nothing about his friend, except that he was worth a dozen ordinary +fence keepers. The man never spoke of his past, or explained why he was +in the most solitary place in this vast land. In vain Bill tried to +induce him to talk. There was a threatening glitter in his eyes which +caused Bill to halt and get on to another track. It was this man, the +keeper of the fence, who stood under the blazing sun pitying his horse +more than himself. He was waiting for another keeper at the point where +they had met, and had a few words and parted. He shaded his eyes again, +but saw no one coming. + +"I'll wait, I'm always waiting. It hasn't worn me out; it never will. +There's a fire within that keeps me alive; it burns, but never dies +down. There's enough fuel in my thoughts to keep it glowing until my +light goes out." + + + + +CHAPTER II + +IN THE HUT + + +Glen Leigh was his name. At least he was down as such on the books, but +names were not of much account on his job; they might as well have been +numbers seeing they were mere indications of identity. He waited until +he was tired, although he had much patience. His throat was parched; his +skin burned; there was no shade. On his head, straight down, poured the +fierce sun. To look at it was blinding. It seared the eyes; sparks +danced when they turned to the earth again. He had no watch. In his hut +there was one, but he seldom wound it. He told the time by nature's +signs, and was never far out in his calculations. + +"I've waited an hour. Damn the fellow. Why doesn't he come? He expects +me to do his work and my own too." He shrugged his shoulders. Jim Benny +was a mere lad compared with him. + +"Poor young devil. What's he done that he should come to this? The sins +of the father, and so on." + +A shadow flitted across the ground. He started. This was not a land of +shadows, except when rain clouds swept away the dazzling blue. He looked +around, then above. There was a small black cloud floating in the +brilliant sky; it looked like a balloon. + +"Rain!" he exclaimed. "By all that's holy, rain." + +There was a power of feeling in the word. + +"Rain." + +In lands where skies are dull, where moisture hangs in the air, where a +downpour spoils pleasure and provokes temper, the word rain has a very +different meaning. To Glen Leigh rain meant almost everything. There had +been none for over nine months, not a drop, and that small balloon-like +cloud that cast its shadows and startled him, was more welcome than a +shower of gold. + +"It's curious," he muttered, "I've never seen it exactly like this. But +it must mean rain. God send it. We want it, we dried up sapless things. +Rain, Ping. Do you hear, old parchment, rain. And your coat'll be +dripping wet. There'll be grass, and you'll feel juice in your mouth +instead of dried leaves and twigs. Rain, Ping, rain!" + +He gave the horse a sound smack, jerked up his head, and pointed to the +cloud rolling above. + +A slight breeze came. Ping sniffed, inhaling it with delight, while an +anxious look of anticipation came into his eyes. + +Glen watched the cloud as though his life depended on it, as thousands +of lives did. It was a peculiar phenomenon, a black patch steering +through a sea of blue. In its wake it left a trail, dull, streaking out, +and beyond the trail were more heavy clouds on the rain path. This +leader was the herald of the storm. + +There was no moan, there was nothing to cause it, but presently the wire +fence seemed to buzz, and the rising wind came through it playing on +the strings a sort of sad harmony, but sweet music in the ears of the +man and horse. + +A low rumbling sound proclaimed the advance of the clouds, and they +rolled along in battalions blotting out the sunlight; the relief to the +eyes was immense. He waited, but Jim Benny did not come. He almost +forgot about him in his anxiety over the approaching rain. + +A crack straight above his head, which echoed over the plain, was +followed by a burst of water which deluged him and Ping in a few +minutes. Both gasped with relief. They opened their mouths, and the +refreshing water cooled them; they had not had such a soaking for +months. The land responded to the rain. He fancied he saw the blades of +grass already shooting; he knew they would be there in a matter of +twenty-four hours. He mounted Ping and rode to his hut. It was no use +waiting any longer for Jim Benny; he would see him next day. Still he +wondered what had come to him, and felt a bit uneasy. He liked Jim, +although he seldom spoke more than a few words to him. Perhaps it was +the mystery surrounding him which appealed to him; he was a mysterious +man himself. + +The rain poured down as he rode along. Ping's ambling pace soon covered +the ground, and he reached his hut in a shorter time than usual. + +The door was wide open. Someone had been there in his absence. He +smiled; the intruder would not have had a very rich find. A few of his +provisions might be gone; the poor devil was welcome to that. + +He was always cautious, for he was accustomed to face danger. There was +no telling what sort of desperate, hunted character had found his way +there, so he handled his revolver as he went in. Lying on his bunk he +saw a bundle of clothes, or what looked like it. Quietly he stepped up, +then started back in amazement. It was no sundowner, not even a man from +Boonara, out on the jag, who had wandered in a half-frenzied condition +so many miles. What he saw was a woman, a young, pretty woman, whose +face was lined with sorrow, whose cheeks were sunken. The hands were +hanging down, thin, almost emaciated, showing the veins, a dull blue. +One leg drooped down the side. The boot was worn, and torn. The dress +over it was ragged. Her whole appearance denoted the utmost distress, +hardship, exhaustion. She hardly breathed, although he saw her bosom +slightly heave and fall. She was in a pitiable plight indeed. + +Glen Leigh was so wonder-struck at this strange sight that he stood +staring at her for some time, until Ping roused him by poking his head +in at the door, asking in his dumb way for food. Even the woman, lying +so strangely there, did not cause him to delay. Ping was a good comrade; +he must be attended to. He went round to the back of the hut, where +there was a lean-to shed, and Ping followed him. There was a little +precious hay still left, which he had secured for the horse at Boonara +at a fabulous price, panning out, if reckoned up, at about a hundred +pounds a ton. It had been brought down the river on one of the puffing, +snorting, little steamers, and deposited at the small staging, to be +left till called for, and fetched by Bill Bigs at his leisure. Ping +sniffed this small portion of evil-smelling stuff with satisfaction. He +had never known better fare, for he had been bred in the wilds, and +brought up anyhow, on anything. His dam had very little milk for him; +she had nothing to make it with. When his dam deserted him, or he left +her to go on his own, he wandered about, living precariously until he +was six years old. Then some master on two legs caught him, and Ping +began to learn the effects of contact with humanity. Ping's life had not +been a happy one until he passed into Glen Leigh's hands. With the +wisdom of the horse he discovered the great change in ownership, and +wondered at it. He followed Leigh about like a dog; there was no +bucking, biting, squealing, kicking against the pricks. He settled down +to a humdrum existence with a feeling of glorious content. + +As Glen Leigh stood for a few moments eyeing Ping he compared him with +the woman lying in his hut. There was a similarity between their lives. +Both had been ill-used, and both came into his possession. Into his +possession? What on earth was he to do with the woman? Ping was all +right. He had bought him for a trifle. But the woman. It was quite a +different thing. She was in his hut, and part of his household for the +night. What must he do with her? + +"Eat your supper, Ping. I'll go and see to the other one," he said, and +went back to his "front door." + +He entered softly. She was still sleeping. He sat down on a log and +watched her. + +How had she come there? She must have tramped miles. From Boonara of +course, but he did not remember seeing her there. He smiled at the +thought. He seldom gave more than a passing glance to people in the +township. He was hardly likely to have noticed her sufficiently to +recognise her now. If she came from Boonara, why had she left the place +and wandered all these miles? Was it by chance she had struck his hut? +Of course, it must have been. No doubt she saw the rainstorm coming, and +seeing the hut at the same time hurried in for shelter. + +She was not an ordinary working-woman, he saw that, and cudgelled his +brains to find out how she came into the country at all. + +She must belong to somebody, but to whom? + +He knew of women who had lost their reason in solitudes, and had not +wondered at it. The country was only fit for blacks, and even they +shunned it, the few of them that were left after the white man's march. +Had she come along with some squatter, when he had been making a visit +to Bathurst, or Bourke, or even Sydney or Melbourne? That was a possible +solution, but highly improbable. There was only one large station near +enough to this place, from which she could have tramped. Its owner was +Craig Bellshaw, of Mintaro Station, and he was not the sort of man to +drive a woman away by ill-treatment, quite the contrary. + +She stirred. He listened. She was muttering, but he could not catch the +words. He got up and leaned over her. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +A STRANGE SITUATION + + +He could make nothing of what she said. It was a jumble of incoherent +sounds, with no meaning in them. He gathered no information as to how +she came there. + +"She's ill--delirious. What can I do for her?" he muttered. + +He was a soft-hearted man, where women were concerned, and distress, +although he had seen much of it, appealed to him. There were no doctors, +not even in Boonara. When folks were ill in those parts they had to +fight for life as best they could, with a few patent remedies to aid +them. + +"Fever," he said, "there's no doubt about it, and she has no strength to +withstand it. I can't leave her alone. I wish to heaven Bigs, or +someone, would come." + +He sat by her all night; sometimes he had to hold her down, as she +struggled like a bird in his strong grasp. He was very gentle with her. +Not one man in a hundred would have credited him with such tenderness. +When daylight sprang out suddenly, as it does in these climes, she +became quieter. He put his hand on her breast, humming softly. The touch +and the sound soothed her. With wonderful patience he remained in this +position hour after hour, proving himself a great man, greater than he +ever thought or reckoned himself to be. He was hungry, but he did not +move. Ping came to the door and wondered why his wants were left +unattended. It was unusual. He would have resented it had not the +downpour brought up small shoots of green, with marvellous suddenness. +He turned away and went nibbling the unaccustomed luxuries. Ping came to +the door instinctively. Grass was a thing he had not seen for months. He +didn't expect to find it, but as he sniffed its freshness he left the +hut contentedly, and Leigh was glad. + +"He smells the grass," he thought, "There's more chance of her pulling +through now it's cooler." He mixed up the horse and the woman in his +thoughts continually. How long he sat there he did not know, but a sound +reached him which gave warning that something or someone was +approaching. Ping neighed. He knew if it was a rider he would call at +his hut. They always paid "ceremonial" visits; it was an event in their +lives. A sound of hoofs reached him. It was very welcome; he gave a sigh +of relief. He looked round, and saw a horse and rider pull up at his +door. It was Jim Benny. At any other time Benny would have been cursed +roundly for neglecting his work. Curses were the habitual mode of +forcibly expressing disapproval by the men of the fence. But never was +man more heartily welcome. Glen Leigh didn't even give a thought as to +why Jim Benny came to his hut. It was an uncommon occurrence but he had +no time to consider it. + +Jim grinned as he put his head in at the door. He was about to speak +when he grasped the situation, as far as it was possible for him to so +do, lacking all knowledge of the facts. + +He was much surprised, as Glen Leigh had been, when he found the woman +in his hut. + +"Hush," said Glen softly, and Jim crept in on tiptoe. + +He stood looking at the woman. His thoughts were much the same as +Glen's. The white wan face struck a chord in Jim Benny's nature that had +not twanged before. His eyes glistened, then moisture gathered. +Presently a couple of drops trickled down his sunburnt face. He put a +hand on Glen's shoulder, bent down, and whispered, "How did she come +here?" + +Glen shook his head. + +"She's bad?" + +"Fever." + +"Poor little thing," said Jim. + +Glen lifted his hand from her bosom. She only stirred slightly, then +with a sigh became still again. He beckoned Jim to follow him outside. +They walked a few yards away, so that the sound of their voices would +not disturb her. + +"Where the devil were you yesterday?" was Glen's question. + +"My horse broke down. I had to bag another, and a pretty brute he is. +Look at him," replied Jim pointing to the wretched mass of skin and +bone. + +"Why have you come here?" asked Glen. + +"I thought I'd ride over and explain. I know what you are when you're in +a temper," replied Jim. + +"That's not the reason." + +"Perhaps it isn't. Anyhow, what about her?" and he pointed to the hut. + +"Somebody must go to Billy's and get some good brandy for her. It's got +to be the best--none of his poison," said Glen. + +"In that case you'd better go. It's no good me trying it. He'd think I +was lying, and there'd be no getting it out of him. I'll stay with her +if you go. Besides my horse is no good. Ping will do the journey in half +the time," Jim answered. + +Glen looked at him. Jim's face did not move a muscle. + +"It's lucky you came," Glen remarked. "Tell me what brought you here." + +"Another time," replied Jim hesitatingly. + +Glen shrugged his shoulders. + +"As you please," he said. + +"How did she get here?" asked Jim. + +Glen told him how he found her, and Jim Benny was as helpless as himself +in solving the problem. + +"It's very strange," said Jim. "We've never seen a woman round here +before. What are you going to do with her?" + +"Keep her until she's pulled round. Then I can find out all about her," +returned Glen. + +A faint cry came from the hut which caused them to turn round quickly +and run back. A strange, weird sight met their eyes. The woman was +standing close to the bed. Her hair was down. They noticed it was a +beautiful nut-brown, and there was plenty of it. Her arms were stretched +out. Her eyes stared glassily. As Glen came in she tottered forward, and +he caught her in his arms. + +A thrill went through him as he clasped her. Her face was close to his. +He felt her breath on his cheek. He drew her tightly towards him, and +held her for several minutes. Jim Benny watched him with a queer light +in his eyes. + +Glen carried her, laying her on his rough bed. She was exhausted with +the exertion and remained quite still. + +"You'd better go at once," said Jim, "she's bad, very bad." + +Glen stood thinking for a few minutes, then asked, "You'll not leave her +while I'm gone?" + +"No, I'll sit by her as I found you sitting. See?" and he sat on the +log, placing his hand on her breast. "That'll soothe her." + +Without another word Glen Leigh left the hut. + +He whistled Ping, and obediently the horse came to his call. Glen +saddled him, and rode off towards Boonara. Jim Benny sat looking at the +woman. He heard the hoof beats gradually dying away, then with a sudden +movement got up and kissed her on the lips. She moaned. + +"I couldn't help it. I meant no harm. She reminded me of--never mind +names. I loved her, and she married him--that's all done with." + +He remained quite still until Spotty, Glen's dog, half dingo, came +sniffing round. He had been on the prowl for a day or so, and returned +repentant. The predatory instinct was uppermost, which was not to be +wondered at considering the wild stock from which he descended, and he +made excursions to some land of which his master knew nothing. + +The dog knew Jim, on the fence, but had not seen him in Glen's hut. Then +there was the woman. Spotty had never come across one. Jim knew the +nature of these dogs, their faithful savageness, and scented danger in +the air. He had seen the dog on the fence with Glen, but had always been +on horseback, and Spotty had never really scented him. He didn't even +know the dog's name. + +Spotty eyed Jim, then looked at the woman on the bed. Here was something +he did not understand. He came forward, crouching, like a panther ready +to spring, and Jim set him with his eyes, not daring to move, on her +account. + +Spotty sniffed at her dress, turned round, faced Jim and growled, a low +rumbling sound. Then he lay on the floor, paws outstretched, head erect, +watching. + +Jim knew if he moved the dog would probably fly at his throat. It would +be hours before Leigh returned, and he must remain in this position the +whole time, on her account. Had he been alone he could have cowed +Spotty, or attempted it. He heard distant thunder. There was another +storm brewing, the promise of more welcome rain. The lightning flashed +through the hut, playing in and out at the doors. The crashing sounds +came nearer; then the rain burst in torrents. + +Spotty did not move. He remained with his eyes on Jim, not even giving a +glance at the figure on the bed. The woman slept through it all. Jim +wondered at her strange stillness. Was she dead? + +The thought made him start. He had not put his hand on her again after +he kissed her, and could not feel or hear her breath. Spotty saw him +move, and growled. He seemed about to spring, then crouched again. + +It was a strange situation--the man, the woman, and the dog, in the hut, +the storm raging outside, and Glen Leigh riding on his mission to +Boonara. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +"IT'S FOR A WOMAN" + + +"Hello, what brings you here?" said Bill Bigs, as Glen Leigh entered his +house. The tone was not encouraging. Bill was in an ill-humour, and it +was not difficult to discover the cause. The bar was in a state of wild +confusion. Broken bottles, bits of wood, splinters from the rough +furniture, and jagged pieces of glass lay about. There was every sign of +a fight. + +Glen took it all in at a glance. Although he was in a desperate hurry he +knew the best way to succeed would be by humouring him. + +"Bit of a skirmish, eh?" began Glen. + +"Two of your fence fellows began it. I never saw such beasts in my life. +They all are." + +Glen's eyes glittered. + +"Does that include me?" he asked. + +"No. I can't say it does, but there's no telling what may happen. +You'll break out some day. Flesh and blood can't stand your job," +replied Bill. + +Here was an opening. Glen was holding himself in leash wonderfully well. +All the time he was thinking, "What's she doing? What's he doing?" + +He wanted to hurry back. Ping would have to hustle when he made a start. + +"You're right," he agreed, "if it wasn't for a nip of your good stuff +now and again, Bill, I'd go under." + +"I see. So that's what you're here for. Well, I can't gratify you this +time. I've run out." + +Bill was husbanding his resources; it was his habit. Glen knew there was +a tough job before him. + +"I must have some of the best, Bill, I'm run down," persisted Glen. + +Bill laughed. + +"Must have it? I like that. Look around. Do you think I'm going to stand +that sort of thing from your fellows without paying somebody out? As +you happen to have come along first I'll pay you out. You'll get nothing +from me to-day." + +"I must have it, Bill. I'll pay double price for it." + +"When?" + +"In a month. I can't do it now." + +"A month! Six months you mean, and then it's uncertain." + +"Not with me." + +"I'll not deny you're a good payer, and straight, but you've got to +suffer for the sins of others. You're one of 'em," returned Bill. + +Glen Leigh leaned over the counter, his face close to Bill's. + +"If you knew what I wanted it for you'd give it me without payment," he +said. + +Bill looked hard at him. Glen's face was quivering. His mouth twitched. +His eyes glared. He was thinking of the woman. How should he get the +brandy if Bill persisted in refusing, for he meant having it at any +cost? + +"What's it for?" + +"I can't tell you. I will before long, but not now." + +"Then it's a fake. You want it for yourself." + +"I do not." + +He fancied he could hear her moaning, becoming restless, and if he got +what he wanted and hurried back she might have a chance. It exasperated +him. + +"Why not tell me the reason?" asked Bill, fairly enough. + +"There's somebody ill in my hut." + +"Oh, that's it, one of your mates. Do you think I'm going to help him +after last night's work? Not me." + +Glen wanted to conceal that it was a woman, but he was wasting precious +time. Could Bill be trusted to keep it to himself? He had no desire for +the township to know until he had found out all about her. + +"It's not one of my mates. I'd not ask it for him after that," and he +waved his hand round. "You'll not say a word, but keep it dark?" + +"It depends on what it is you tell me." + +"I can't tell you. Bill, we've been what folks call friends, as far as +it goes here. Promise me. It's a matter of life and death. You'll not +be sorry. You'll have done a good action, and saved a life." + +Bill saw he was in deadly earnest. He knew Glen Leigh had always gone +straight with him. + +"Out with it then. I'll promise, so help me I will, but I don't say I'll +let you have what you want." + +Glen saw he was yielding. Again his thoughts went back to his hut, and +he groaned at the loss of time. + +"It's for a woman. She's got fever, and is delirious. She'll die if she +doesn't have some stimulant. For God's sake, Bill, let me have it." + +Bill stared at him. There was a genuine, even pathetic ring in his +voice. But a woman! He couldn't be expected to swallow that yarn. + +"Where is she?" he asked. + +"In my hut." + +Bill laughed. He couldn't help it. The thing was so ridiculous. + +"Who's the lady?" he asked with a grin. + +Leigh's hands clenched. He was becoming dangerous. + +"I haven't time to tell you lies. I don't know who she is, or where she +comes from. All I can say is I found her in there lying on my shakedown, +dying," and he told the whole story as rapidly as possible to the +astonished Bill. + +"It's as true as gospel, and Jim Benny's with her waiting my return. +Think of the time I've wasted here. I may be too late. Ping's none too +fast, but he's sure. For heaven's sake, Bill, let me have it, and some +tinned stuff, soup, anything you've got. There's nothing at my place for +her." + +He spoke rapidly, excitedly. He was strung to the highest pitch as he +thought how long he had already been away. + +"It's the rummiest yarn I ever heard, but I don't see as how you could +make it up. I wonder who she is?" + +"That's what I've got to find out. If she dies, her secret goes with +her. Help to save her, then we'll get to know," begged Glen. + +Bill thought of his girl at work in Adelaide. Supposing she was in such +a plight? The mere idea made him shiver. + +"I'll do it, Glen. Damn it, man, if you'd outed with it at first the +thing would have been settled in five minutes." + +He disappeared. Glen knew if he had fired the story at him straight away +it would not have been believed at all. Bill also knew it as he dived +into the bowels of the earth beneath his bar. + +"He's worked me cleverly," he muttered. "He saw I was cut up rough when +he came in, and he handled me well. It's a queer go, a very queer go, +but I believe him. He's not given to lying, and in any case I can go and +see for myself in a day or two. If he's put up a game on me, I'll--No, +he'd never do it. He's too much of a man. And his face! It might be his +sweetheart the way he looked." + +Bill was rummaging about. Selecting two bottles he took them with him. +As he went back through his storeroom, he collected some tinned milk, +soup, and biscuits. + +He packed them all carefully so that there would be no risk of breakage, +then went back to the bar. + +Two men had come in during his absence. One was "on the fence," and as +usual they had selected a bottle of alleged whisky, and were helping +themselves. Glen had refused to join them. He was called a sullen +bounder. + +"Get out of this," yelled Bill when he saw the rider on the fence. +"You're one of the devils who caused all this mess." + +"I'll pay for it--at least my share," answered the man. + +"Then out with it," said Bill, putting his package down. + +Glen eyed it greedily. He ought to have had it an hour ago and been well +on his way back to the hut. Here was more delay. Would she be alive? +Would she be alive? Was Jim with her? Yes, he'd wait. He was sure of it. + +The man pulled out some greasy pound-notes and handed Bill a couple. + +"That's more'n my whack. It'll have to stand good for this," and he +placed his hand on the bottle. + +"And mind, if I see any signs of strife brewing you'll not get away so +easily next time," warned Bill, as he stuffed the dirty notes in his +pocket, only too glad to get anything in payment for the damage. + +He beckoned to Glen, picked up the package and went outside. + +"You'll find all you want here; at least as much as I can give you." + +"I'll never forget it, Bill. One of these days I may be able to do you a +good turn. I'll see you are paid in full, and more." + +"Never mind about that. It's something to my credit that I've faith +enough in a man to believe such a dodgasted yarn as you've spun me." + +"You do believe it?" + +"Yes. Shake. You'll not mind me driving over? I'll not come +empty-handed, and not to act the spy, but it's such a stretcher that I'd +just like to see for myself." + +Glen smiled as he mounted Ping, and Bill handed him the parcel. + +"I can't wonder at it. I can hardly believe it myself. Come and see. +You'll be welcome. You always are, but not a word to a soul." + +"I'll keep it dark, you bet. I'm with you in finding out all about her. +It'll be a bit of a change from that filthy work," and he jerked his +thumb in the direction of the bar. + +As Glen was riding away, the man who had paid Bill the two notes rushed +out and yelled, "Expect you've not heard that Joe Calder's been found +shot dead on his track!" + + + + +CHAPTER V + +WHY JIM CAME TO THE HUT + + +Joe Calder shot dead on his track! + +Glen had no time to waste or he would have gone back to hear more. He +must hurry on. Ping felt there was need for haste. His master seldom +pushed him as he was doing now. + +Joe Calder done for at last! Glen had warned him it would come some day, +for the man was a brute. He had no human feeling, and how he earned +promotion over his fellows was one of those things no man could +understand. + +Glen was overseer on his track, as Joe Calder was on the other, and the +two men often met, but they were as wide apart as the poles in every +respect. + +Calder was a sneak. The men under him hated him. More than one +threatened to do for him, but he was a big powerful man, and dangerous. +He was one of the worst characters, and when he went to Boonara even +Bill Bigs fought shy of him. There was no doubt he was a criminal. His +face, his shifty eyes, the backward glances, his fear of being followed +and tracked down betrayed it. But he must have had a friend somewhere, +or he would never have got his post. + +Glen was surprised, and yet he was not. The news was shot at him +unexpectedly, but he believed it, and wondered who had rid the world of +a scoundrel, and the track of a desperate man. Ping travelled well, his +head bound for home, such as it was, and every horse knows the way to +his stable. Mile after mile was traversed, until Glen saw a faint speck +in the distance and knew it was his hut. A townsman would have seen +nothing, but Glen's eyes were used to looking long distances, and were +almost as powerful as a glass in distinguishing objects. + +"Go on, Ping. We'll soon be there," and the horse put on another spurt. + +The tension in the hut was not relaxed for a moment. Hour after hour +passed, and still the dog stood on guard and eyed Jim. If the man moved +there came an ominous growl. + +Two or three times the woman groaned, and Spotty pricked his ears +wonderingly. Such sounds were unfamiliar. Jim watched him. The dog +seemed half inclined to spring on the bed. Thinking better of it he +settled down again with his eyes fixed as before. + +A drowsy feeling crept over Jim. He was fearful of going to sleep. He +had been sitting like a statue for the Lord knows how long and he had no +idea of the time. + +He listened. Not a sound, except a few melancholy notes from a passing +bird. What was Glen doing all this time? He had promised to watch, but +Glen had not promised to come back. Jim's mind was in a chaotic state, +and he was hardly responsible for it. + +Spotty pricked his ears. Jim accepted this as a sign that he heard +something, and listened intently. + +The dog gave a short, sharp bark, a true signal this time. + +In his great sense of relief Jim stood up. He could bear the strain no +longer. + +Spotty flew at him, straight at his throat. Jim caught him with both +hands and held him, the dog growling, snarling, trying to wrench himself +free to bite his hands. Jim held on. He heard the hoof-beats. It was +Glen returning and all would be well, but he was tired and cramped with +the strain, and Spotty was a ferocious dog, and strong. + +The woman moved and half sat up; then she sank back again. He was +thankful. + +Ping halted. Glen got out of the saddle with the precious burden and +strode into the hut. Unstrung as he was, the sight that met his gaze +caused him to drop the package. With a cry of despair he caught at it, +just breaking its fall. + +Spotty, seeing his master, ceased struggling. Jim let go his hold and +fell on the floor in a dead faint. + +"Get out," almost yelled Glen, and the dog shot through the opening like +a fox bolting from hounds, dashing under Ping's belly and scouring +across country at top speed. Yet he had only guarded his master's hut, +and his doggy brain resented the injustice. + +Glen opened the package before attending to Jim. There was no damage +done, and he had never felt so like offering up a prayer +before--supposing, after all, he had gone through, the precious bottles +had broken? He knelt down beside Jim, summing up the situation, and +wondering how long he had been subjected to the strain caused by the +dog. Opening one of the bottles, he poured a small quantity down Jim's +throat, being careful not to spill a drop. + +Presently Jim sat up, looked round in a dazed way, and then seeing Glen +said, "It was a near go. The dog watched me for hours. I dared not move +for fear he would savage me or her, but when I heard you coming I could +stand it no longer. I got up, and he flew at me. She's been like that +ever since you left. What have you brought?" + +"Many things, but I'd a job to work round Bill. There'd been a row in +his shanty. Two of your fellows smashed things up, and he was in a +towering rage. Fetch some water. It's funny we can get it nice, cool, +clean and fresh. We haven't done that for months, have we?" + +As he spoke he was busy with the package placing the things carefully on +the floor. Bill had made amends after all, and opened his heart. He was +a dashed good sort, and should be repaid. + +Jim staggered out for the water. The tank was overflowing into sundry +water-catchers. It was far too precious to waste, although many times +the quantity would have been used to wash up after a single meal in a +big hotel. + +Glen made the mixture weak, then, taking a bit of rag, he moistened her +lips with it, squeezing a little into her mouth. + +He was glad she was alive. A tremendous sense of relief came over him, +and with it relaxation from the strain he too had gone through. He could +have lain down on the floor and slept for many hours. + +"Get some rest, Jim. You need it," he said. + + +"Not so much as you." + +"Yes, your struggle was greater than mine. Sleep, man; then you can +watch when I give up." + +Jim lay down. He was in a dead slumber in a minute or two. + +Glen sat looking at the woman. A slight colour came into her cheeks, her +lips were not so blue, a warmth spread over her body; he could feel it +as he touched her bare arm. Then a curious thing happened. He bent down +and kissed her, not like Jim Benny, on the lips, but on her forehead, +reverently, tenderly, like a father would a child--and he was the most +reckless rider on the fence. Both men were among the legion of the lost, +why was only known to themselves, but they had given this woman what +many a one of her sex in a great city would have been thankful +for--human kindness. + +"Sleep's best for her," he thought, as he moistened her lips again. +"She's been hot and cold, but there's a nice glow on her now. It's +healthy. She'll pull through. I'll bet she pulls through, and we'll +have done it, Jim, and I, and Bill. He's had a big share in it. I should +say the three of us will be able to look after her and find out all +about her." + +Jim had his rest. Glen roused him when he found sleep would overcome him +whether he willed it or no. + +"Wet her lips with it when they're dry. Place your finger on and feel." + +Jim nodded. He thought how he had placed his lips to hers when Glen was +away. He was ashamed of it; somehow he thought he ought to tell him. +He'd think it over while he slept. + +In the midst of nature's great silent solitudes these three were working +out their fate. It was so still that to most people the silence would +have been worse than the noise and rush of traffic. Outside, Ping, +neglected after his long journey, unsaddled, was finding refreshment. +The horse was weary, leg tired, but his heart was in the right place. He +was the sort that never gives in until something snaps. + +Spotty called a halt when he had gone a couple of miles, and considered +the question of the unjustness of his master. He must have arrived at +some conclusion for he retraced his steps slowly. Near the hut he +encountered Ping, so nosed round him as though apologising for the +sudden bolt under him. Ping and Spotty were chums. They were both +mongrels, but there is often a lot of good to be found in such animals. +Eventually when Ping lay down Spotty curled up close to his back; the +silence was unbroken. + +When Glen awoke he saw at a glance the woman was coming round. She began +to mutter. They listened but could make out no words. + +"She's pulling through. I reckon she'll mend now. We've all of us got to +get her round." + +"All of us?" + +"Yes, you and Bill and me." + +"And what about the fence?" asked Jim. + +"Damn the fence," answered Glen fiercely, "I've done with it." + +"Then so have I," echoed Jim almost gladly. + +"Good boy. It's a cursed job. Keepers of the fence. I tell you, Jim, +it's slow murder. I'd as lief have solitary confinement." + +"I guess we'd get better tucker in prison," said Jim. + +The word murder recalled to Glen's mind the death of Calder. + +"Jim!" + +"Well?" + +"Joe Calder's been shot dead on the track." + +"Serves the brute right," replied Jim in a hard voice. + +"You haven't told me yet what brought you here," said Glen looking at +him. + +"That was it." + +"What?" + +"The Calder business." + +"You--?" + +Jim nodded. + +"I shot him." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +"COME" + + +Glen asked no questions. If Jim Benny had shot Calder he must have had +good reason for it. He waited to hear if he would say more. + +"Do you want to know why?" asked Jim. + +"Please yourself." + +Jim pulled off his shirt, or tried to. It stuck. + +"The water," he said faintly. + +Glen gave him a damp cloth. Jim bathed the shirt, near his breast. For +the first time Glen noticed a deep red mark. + +"That's better," said Jim, as he felt the shirt give, and pulled it off. +Then he went on, "He did that with his knife, and I shot him." + +"It served him right," returned Glen. + +"We quarrelled, not for the first time. He said brutal things to me, +and called me names no man would stand, so I struck him between the +eyes. He whipped out his knife, and I had it before I could think. I +pulled my revolver from my belt, and shot him through the heart. He fell +like a log. I left him there. I never even looked at him, but came on +here." + +"Why did you come here?" + +"Because I thought I could depend upon you, and you would give me good +advice. I didn't tell you at first, because of her. One thing at a +time's enough." + +"You can depend upon me. I'll help you if there's trouble, but no one +knows you shot him, and there'll not be much fuss made over him," +declared Glen. + +The woman opened her eyes, and looked at them. Then a faint smile spread +over her face. + +"Are you better?" asked Glen. + +No answer. + +"Do you feel stronger, my lass?" + +She pressed her hand over her forehead feebly, and a vacant look came +into her eyes. + +"She's weak. She's had no food. Warm some of that milk, Jim." + +When it was ready Glen gave it to her with a spoon. She took it +greedily. In a few minutes she dozed again. + +"Her head's sure to be bad for a time," said Glen. + +There was a brief silence, then Jim said, "While you were away I did +something." + +"What?" + +"I kissed her on the lips. I couldn't help it. Something prompted me." + +Glen started. For a moment he felt angry, then muttered, "When you were +outside I kissed her on the forehead." + +These kisses were characteristic of the men and showed the difference +between them. + +They said no more about it. Both thought it strange, and the subject +dropped. + +The woman progressed slowly but surely. As she recovered some strength +they found her memory had gone; she did not know her name, or where she +came from. She appeared to imagine she had been there all her life. + +Bill Bigs arrived in his buggy, and did not come empty-handed; there was +an ample supply stowed away in the back. + +"That's her, eh?" he asked. + +"Yes. Do you believe me now?" replied Glen smiling. + +"I believed you before, but I wanted to see her. I say, Glen, she'll be +a grand-looking woman when she's picked up and filled out a bit. Where +the deuce did she come from? It's miles away from everywhere here," said +Bill. + +"It'll be hard to find out. She's lost her memory; she fancies she's +been here all her days, but she's sane enough. She'll talk all right in +a bit," replied Glen. + +"Jim Benny!" exclaimed Bill. + +"He's been here ever since she came. It was funny he should turn up +almost at the same time." + +Jim came into the hut and greeted Bill. + +"I never expected to see you here," exclaimed the latter. + +"He came to consult me. We're going to throw it up," Glen told him. + +"Throw what up?" + +"The fence. We've done with it; we're sick of the whole thing. It's too +much for flesh and blood to stand." + +Bill stared. + +"Going!" he cried. "Why you're the best man on the job." + +"Am I?" answered Glen. "I'm glad to hear someone has a good opinion of +me." + +"I always had," pursued Bill. "I'm not surprised. I've often wondered +why you came. I remember the first time I saw you in Boonara. I thought +you'd dropped from the clouds. Have you sent in your resignation?" + +"No. What does it matter. Let 'em find out. You can drop a line to the +overseer when we're gone." + +"And the fence?" asked Bill "We don't want those cursed rabbits to get +through to our side." + +"There are plenty to look after it; men are always disappearing. There +are good and bad among us. Some fellows are there fighting down the +drink curse. I don't blame 'em; it's their only chance. I know two of +'em, good men in their way, but I can tell how it would be with them if +they went back to a town life. They'd go under quick. I've been in many +a jag myself, but that's not why I came out. I can stifle it; it's only +a matter of will," declared Glen. + +"I don't know so much about that. I've had a lot of experience in that +line. Some of the poor beggars can't help themselves," said Bill, and +then added, "They've buried Calder. There'll be no inquiry. Most people +think he shot himself. Anyhow we've shovelled him away in Boonara. If +any trouble is made they can dig him up again and call him as witness. +He's the only one who could give evidence. All your fellows are glad +he's gone." + +Jim listened in silence, with a feeling of relief; he did not in the +least regret what he had done. He regarded it as a righteous act. + +The woman sat up. When she saw Bill she asked, "When did he come?" + +This was almost the first sentence she had spoken correctly. Hitherto +her words had come disjointedly--in jerks. + +"Me, my lass? I've just dropped in to see my friend, Glen. He told me +you were here." + +"I've been here a long time. Oh, such a long time. I must have been +sleeping for weeks. I've forgotten which is Glen," she answered. + +"I'm Glen--Glen Leigh," he said as he placed his hand on her shoulder. + +"How silly of me that I didn't remember, but I shall not forget again. +You have been very good to me. Have I been very ill?" + +"Yes, for a long time," replied Glen humouring her. + +She looked at Jim, and Glen said, "He's Jim Benny, another good friend. +And that's Bill Bigs, one of the best of friends. We're all going to +look after you." + +She smiled. + +"Do I want looking after?" + +"You'll not be too strong for a good while yet," replied Glen. "When +you are strong we're going away from here." + +She looked at him wonderingly. + +"Going away from home?" she asked. + +"You'll want a change when you get stronger." + +This put a different complexion on the matter, and she smiled again, +nodded, and lay down once more. + +"That's the first attempt at conversation she's made," said Glen. "We're +getting on." + +"You boys--where are you going when you leave here?" asked Bill +suddenly. + +Glen did not hesitate. + +"Sydney," he answered. + +Bill remained silent a few minutes, then said slowly, as though still +thinking it out, "Sydney! I've a good mind to go with you, I'm sick of +Boonara. It's the last place that was ever put up on this earth." + +Glen jumped up from his seat, so did Jim. They took a hand each and +almost pulled Bill's arms off. + +"Do it!" cried Glen. "Do it! We want you. If the three can't make +headway in Sydney we're not the men I fancy we are." + +"Yes, come with us," put in Jim heartily. + +"Stop, you fellows, stop," said Bill. "It's easier said than done. I'll +tell you something. I've had an offer for my shanty, a damned good +offer, more than it's worth. I can't think why he's made it, or where +he's got the money from. I never knew Craig Bellshaw to give much money +away, and I don't see where else it could have come from." + +"Craig Bellshaw!" exclaimed Glen in surprise, "has he made a bid for +it?" + +"Not likely. What'd he want with a place like mine? It's Garry Backham, +Bellshaw's overseer. He came into my place and wanted to know if I'd +sell out. He said he wanted the place and was tired of Mintaro. I was +never more surprised in my life. You could have pushed me over with a +blade of grass." + +"I met him several times. He seems a taciturn sort of man, sullen, bad +tempered--not one of my sort," said Glen. + +"I fancy he's had a roughish time at Mintaro," Bill surmised, "but he +must have saved money. Bellshaw wouldn't lend it him in hundreds." + +"He was a pal of Calder's; about the only one he had," Jim remarked. + +"I never knew that," said Bill. + +"They used to meet on the track, and talk and smoke. He bought Calder +drink at times," explained Jim. + +"Birds of a feather," said Glen. + +"He made no fuss about Calder being shot," Bill commented. + +"It was no use. He's dead and gone, and there's no proof that he was +shot; he probably did it himself as you have said," decided Glen. + +The woman stirred, murmuring some words in her sleep; with a start she +sat up, stared at the group, stretched out her arms, and in a pleading +voice uttered the one word, "Come." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE FACE IN THE WATER + + +"I'm not superstitious," said Bill, "but that settles it; she said +'come' as plainly as she could, although she's fast asleep. I can't get +over that. I'll sell out to Backham, and join you. We'll make things gee +in Sydney, I reckon." + +They were delighted at this decision, for they knew Bigs was a good man +of business, who had his head screwed on right, and if there was +anything to be made he'd be on to it straight. + +"She'll want some clothes. She can't go in those things," said Glen. + +"I'll fix that up. I can get sufficient garments in Boonara for her to +reach Sydney in and there's no occasion for her to arrive like the Queen +of Sheba," Bill replied. + +They laughed. Things were more cheerful. The decision to abandon the +fence livened them up. + +When Bill left he promised to return in a week, and see how the woman +was progressing. + +"It'll be longer than that before we can travel with her," he said. + +Away in Sydney, the great city, vast even in those days, life was going +on very differently from the solitudes round Boonara. There were +hundreds, nay, thousands, of people in that beautiful city who had never +heard of Boonara, or knew there were such men as the keepers of the +fence. As far as the majority of the inhabitants were concerned such men +as Glen Leigh, Jim Benny, and Bill Bigs, might not have existed. Had the +story of the woman in the hut been told it would have been laughed to +scorn, and counted impossible, but there is nothing impossible in the +world, however improbable it may seem. + +Sydney was pulsating with life in this year of grace 18--. There is no +occasion to be exact. It might partially spoil matters, and what's a +year or two to a story, so long as the interest is maintained, and the +characters are living beings? Late in the nineteenth century Sydney +flourished exceedingly. The last twenty years of that remarkable era saw +it going ahead by leaps and bounds, and it has been growing ever since +until men who left it years ago, and have revisited it, can hardly +recognise the place. Long may it flourish, most beautiful of many +beautiful cities! + +There was a crowd in Pitt Street, outside Tattersalls, and over the way +at the marble bar streams of people were passing in and out, for it was +hot, and there were many parched throats. Moreover, it had been the +winding up day of the A.J.C. Meeting at Randwick, and every favourite +had got home, much to the disgust of the bookmakers. + +It was ten at night and sultry; there was no air to speak of. The +keepers of the fence would have thought it cool, but they were used to +being burnt up and parched, and lived in a land where water was often +flavoured with the taste of dead things, and not cooled with ice and +fragrant with lemon. Not one of this crowd knew what took place on the +border line of glittering wire. Boonara was as far off as, and more +strange than, Timbuctoo. + +Not one of this crowd? Stay. There was one--probably the only one--who +knew all about it, and he stood smoking a cigar and chatting to a man +outside a tobacconist's shop, not far from the Club on the opposite side +of the road. He was a man nearly six feet high, with black hair and +eyebrows, and a sunburnt face. Not a pleasant face, but strong, +determined, with a rather cruel mouth and dark cat-like eyes; a man +dangerous both to friend and enemy if he willed. He was well-dressed, +but somewhat carelessly; he had a slouch hat, dark grey clothes, and his +tie was awry. He stood with his legs slightly apart, gesticulating with +one hand as he talked. The man to whom he was speaking was the leviathan +of the Australian turf, who had made his position by a mixture of shrewd +business qualities and bold gambling, who betted in thousands, and took +"knocks" that would have sent a less plucky man out of the ring. But he +always came up smiling, and his luck was proverbial. He had been known +to play hazards for twelve hours at a stretch and never have a hand +tremble when he lost thousands. He was ostensibly a dealer in choice +cigars, etc., in fact in all the paraphernalia of a tobacconist's, and +it was his shop they had just come out of as they stood talking on the +pavement. He was not so tall as his companion, and had a much more +kindly face. He was popular because he was cheerful and honest, and the +little backer could always get a point over the odds from him. + +The taller man was Craig Bellshaw, of Mintaro Station. The bookmaker was +Nicholas Gerard, always called Nick by everybody. + +Craig Bellshaw was, as before mentioned, probably the only man who knew +there were such men as the keepers of the fence, who had heard of +Boonara, and was acquainted with the vast solitudes in the West. He was +a wealthy man, and could afford to leave Mintaro to the men he employed, +and come to Sydney in search of pleasure. When he was away he still had +his grip on his place, as some of his hands found to their cost. They +put it down to the spying of Garry Backham, the overseer. + +Craig Bellshaw was a man of about fifty years of age, but did not look +it. He had led a hardy life, and been successful. He owned miles upon +miles of land, thousands of cattle, and his sheep ran into hundreds of +thousands. Horses he had in abundance; how many he had no idea. He +claimed all within reach of his land round Mintaro district, but never +missed a dozen when they were taken. It pleased him to say they were +his, so he did not grumble when Boonara men, and fencers, claimed a few. +Bellshaw was difficult to understand, but one thing was certain: once he +got his hold on a thing, he seldom let go. + +He was a bachelor, but had a house in Sydney which cost him a +considerable sum to keep up; he found it handy when he came to town. He +owned racehorses, and his trainer was Ivor Hadwin, who had stables on +the hill at Randwick. Hadwin was completely under Bellshaw's thumb, and +was heavily in his debt. It was owing to pecuniary difficulties that he +became connected with him. This was often the case with Craig Bellshaw. +For once in a way the A.J.C. Meeting proved successful to the stable, +and Bellshaw's horses had won four races, one on each day; all were +heavily backed, and the bulk of the money had either been laid by Nick +Gerard, or he had worked the commission. This was the subject of their +conversation, and as they talked in the flare of the gaslights and the +shops, many people turned to look at them, for both were well-known +figures in the sporting world. + +"Yes, Nick, I've had a pretty good meeting," said Craig. + +Nick Gerard smiled. + +"I should say you had. There are several thousands to your credit," he +rejoined. + +"What do you think of the dark bay--the fellow that won to-day?" + +"Barellan? Oh, he's all right. A pretty fair horse I should say." + +"Yes, he is, a good deal better than you think." + +"Is he? I've seen him at work on the track. He won to-day, but I don't +think he's the best you've got." + +"No? Which is?" + +"Flash." + +Bellshaw smiled in his peculiar way as he said, "Perhaps he's a better +track horse, but I'm sure Barellan is the better horse in a race, +especially over a distance." + +"He may be. When are you going back West?" + +"Not yet. I'm sick of it. We've had such a long dry spell, but now we've +had rain, a real soaker. We wanted it badly enough." + +"It must be terrible when you have no rain for months." + +"It is. You're lucky to be here always." + +"Why don't you give it up now you've made your pile?" + +"Throw it up? I can't afford it. You don't know what's hanging to +Mintaro." + +"A good deal, no doubt, but you're a single man, with no one dependent +on you. It seems to me you're wasting your time. You've worked hard +enough," argued Nick. + +"So I have, but I couldn't live in Sydney always, any more than I could +at Mintaro." + +They talked for some little time. Eventually Gerard bade him good night +and went over to Tattersalls. The squatter walked along Pitt Street, +then hailing a cab drove to Surrey Hills. He called at a house, remained +some time, then drove to Circular Quay, catching the last boat to Manley. +It was beautiful on the harbour; a cool breeze was blowing from the +heads. The moon shone, and as he leaned over the side he saw his face +reflected in the water. This was peculiar. He did not remember having +seen such a thing before. As he looked he clutched the rail with both +hands, turned pale, and gasped. Reflected beside his face was another +face, that of a young woman--he had not noticed a lady standing a short +distance away from him who was also looking over the side of the boat. + +He staggered away and went to the fore part of the steamer, where there +was more breeze, and sat down. The perspiration broke out all over him. +He felt faint for the first time in his life. + +"I saw it. I'm sure of it, and it was like her face. I'm a fool to be +frightened at a shadow on the water," and he laughed harshly, a +mirthless sound. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +WAYS AND MEANS + + +Three men and a woman arrived in Sydney by the mail train from Bourke; +there were not many passengers, and they attracted some attention. It +was evident they came from out back, their appearance denoted it; they +were clothed in a rough country style. They were Glen Leigh, Jim Benny, +Bill Bigs, and the woman. They had very little luggage; it was contained +in a couple of bundles, "swags," that could be strapped on the back, +slung over a shoulder, or carried in the hand. Many people in Sydney +have seen the once familiar figure of a tall Queensland millionaire +walking along George Street with a similar outfit. In appearance Glen +Leigh was not unlike him, only younger. + +A porter watched them as they walked out of the station. They all seemed +solicitous about the woman. The man understood the three, the female he +was puzzled about. + +"They can't have picked her up coming in the train. She belongs to one +of them. I wonder which. The tall chap, perhaps. He's a big 'un; I fancy +I've seen him before. I wonder where they're bound for?" + +The porter's attention was claimed and he forgot all about them. + +"There's a coffee place in Lower George Street that will do us for a +time," said Glen, "till we've had a look round." + +The woman stared about her wonderingly. If she had ever been in a large +city it was evident she had forgotten all about it. + +Since her illness, which was not yet shaken off, she had developed in +body and mind, although as regards the latter it was to a great extent +blank as to the past. She had some colour in her cheeks. There were +signs that she would be pretty, with a good figure, and be an attractive +woman. + +She made no remarks as Glen and Jim walked on either side of her, Bigs +following behind with the larger bundle. Several people turned to look +at them as they went along. + +The coffee house was large, but unpretentious, the locality being none +of the best. It was at the Circular Quay end of George Street, and +Chinamen's shops and dens abounded--dull dirty places, with a few empty +tea chests in the windows, and bits of paper with Chinese characters +scrawled, or printed on, in various colours, like cracker coverings on a +table after a riotous Boxing Day dinner. In several of the shop doorways +Chinamen leaned against the posts, seldom moving when a customer pushed +by them into the shop, bent on playing fan tan, or smoking opium. + +"The Chinkies might have been propped up there since I was here last, +and that's a few years ago," laughed Bigs. + +"Rotten lot," said Jim. + +"Most of 'em. I've met one or two decent pigtails out West," Bill +answered. + +When the woman caught sight of the Chinaman it had a most peculiar +effect upon her. She shrank close to Glen, pushing him on to the +roadway, and almost slipping down herself. He saw by her face that she +was terrified, and followed the direction of her glance. It was fixed on +a fat Chinaman standing in his shop door looking across at them. He was +not exactly repulsive, but he was sleek and oily. His face shone, his +cheeks hung low, he had a double chin, and his eyes were like nuts fixed +in slits. + +"There's nothing to be afraid of," said Glen. "If he is a nasty-looking +beggar I daresay he's harmless." + +Jim and Bill noticed her agitation and scowled at the Chinaman, who +returned the challenge with a broad grin, showing his yellow teeth. + +She trembled violently. Her hand shook as it clasped Glen's arm with a +tight squeeze. He hurried her on; she was quite willing. It was not +until they were inside the coffee house that she recovered. + +"You don't like the Chinamen?" asked Glen. + +"I hate them. They frighten me," she said. + +I wonder why? thought Glen, as a maid came to show her her room. + +She looked back and asked, "Where is your room?" + +"I don't know yet," returned Glen. + +"Please don't go far away from me. Please don't." + +"All right," replied Glen. "I'll see to that." + +The maid smiled, but Glen's scowl quickly frightened it away. + +"We'll have to fix something up," he said. "She'd better be somebody's +sister. I'm too old; you take it on, Jim." + +"Yes, Jim's most suitable. He's not much older--a matter of three or +four years," agreed Bill. + +"His sister!" + +Jim didn't like the relationship. Once it was established it might be +difficult to induce her to change the feeling. He must accept, however; +there was no excuse for not doing so. + +"Very well, that's settled. I'll tell her about it," went on Glen. "Try +and explain to her, but she's as simple as a child, and won't understand +the reason for it." + +She was tired. The maid, who regarded her curiously, saw she was weak, +and asked her if she had been ill. She said she had been very ill, for a +long time, and she wanted rest. + +"Lie down on the bed. Let me take your boots on. I'll draw the curtain +round, and you can have a sleep. It will do you good. Have you travelled +far?" + +"From Bourke." + +"Where's that?" + +"In the West. Some hundreds of miles away." + +This excited the maid's compassion. She was a good-natured kind girl, +but fond of admiration, and she had seen a great deal of life since she +came out as an emigrant from the old country. + +"I'll be back in a minute," she said as she left the room. She went to +ask if she could remain with her for a short time, and receiving a reply +in the affirmative returned, after telling Glen she had persuaded her to +rest. + +"She's my friend's sister," and he pointed to Jim. "She's been very ill; +take care of her." + +"I'll look after her. I'm sorry I smiled as I did, but--" + +"But what?" asked Glen. + +"Oh, nothing. We see some queer folks here sometimes," she said. + +"I daresay you do," replied Glen, "but we're all right. You needn't be +afraid of any of us." + +"I'm not," she retorted, unable to resist laughing at him. + +"That girl's better than I thought," he remarked when she had gone. + +"They often are, if you'll only take time to find it out," said Bill. + +"Where's Jim?" + +"He must have just gone out. I don't think he liked the sister +business." + +"Why not?" Glen asked, surprised. + +"That remains to be seen," Bill answered, and the remark made Glen +thoughtful. + +Jim came in again and they had a council of ways and means. + +Bill Bigs had a considerable sum of money. He had not half-poisoned the +inhabitants of Boonara, and the keepers of the fence, and others, +without making a handsome profit on his concoctions. His dealings in hay +and provender of various kinds had been another source of income. +Occasional loans, at heavy risks, and corresponding interest, had also +brought grist to the mill. + +The sale of his shanty to Garry Backham brought him in several hundred +pounds, about twice the amount he valued it at, and he had not yet +recovered from the surprise at his good luck, or at the fact that Garry +had found the ready money in a lump sum. Altogether he had a few +thousands at his back. + +Glen Leigh had more money than the other two would have thought +possible. He had it stowed away in a bank in Sydney, where it had +remained, and been added to, ever since he had been on the fence. + +Jim Benny had a few pounds which he carried with him. + +"I'll look round," said Bill. "I'm the business man. I reckon I'd best +stick to my own line and buy a 'house' if I can find a decent one at a +fair price." + +"It's about the best thing you can do," agreed Glen. + +"And if I succeed, you two, and the girl, must put up with me until you +find work," went on Bill. + +Glen laughed. + +"What sort of work?" he asked. + +"That's a bit difficult, but two fellows who ride like you can ought to +find some sort of occupation. Start a buckjumping show. Give 'em a taste +of your quality; that's the game; I've hit on a little gold mine. We can +get horses, and it won't cost a deal to run it." + +"You mean have a real genuine show of buckjumping, and riding, in +Sydney, and other places?" Glen queried. + +"Yes, that's the idea." + +"How much would it cost to start it?" + +"A few hundreds. I'll find the money." + +"I must have a share in it, and we'll let Jim come in. He can take it +out in hard work," said Glen smiling. + +"I'm willing to do anything you wish," Jim declared. + +"If I manage to make the necessary arrangements," said Bill, "you'll +have to go and find the horses, the very worst buckers you can get. +There must be no faking about it." + +"There'll be none where I am concerned," replied Glen, "I'll pick up +some rough 'uns, you may depend on that, I say, Bill, I believe you've +hit on the right thing." + +"I'm sure I have. You're the best rider I ever saw sit a horse," said +Bill. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE CHINAMAN'S SHOP + + +Bill Bigs met a good many Chinamen, and had dealings with them, always +finding them keen business fellows, moderately honest, though some were +arrant rogues. + +He went out of the coffee house to look round, and saw the fat Chinaman +still standing in his doorway like a statue, as though he had not moved +since they saw him before entering the house. + +The name on the shop was Lin Soo. Probably this was the name of the man +at the door; at any rate something prompted Bill to cross the road and +look in at the shop window. He saw three tea chests, which he guessed +were empty, a couple of Chinese bowls, a vase with strange hideous +dragons painted or burnt on, an ivory-handled stick, a hat, a pile of +chop-sticks, a bundle of red papers, and a cat slumbering serenely +among the miscellaneous collection. + +"Is the cat for sale?" he asked the man. + +The Chinaman smiled. + +"Not for sale. A good cat; he catchee mice, cockroaches." + +"I didn't know there were any mice here." + +"He catchee them if they were here," grinned the man. + +"Your name is Lin Soo?" + +The Chinaman nodded. + +"You speak very good English," said Bill. + +"Been in Sydney years," he replied. + +"And made a heap of money," said Bill. + +"No. Chinaman no chance with the white man," said Lin solemnly. + +Bill laughed. + +"You yellow heathen, I know better than that. Are you a tea dealer?" + +Lin Soo nodded; it was a habit, and when he did so his cheeks flapped +and his eyelids fell up and down like trap doors. + +"Sell me half a pound of good tea," said Bill. + +Lin Soo turned and walked into the shop. Bill followed. He did not want +any tea, and Lin Soo knew it. + +The Chinaman went behind the counter, leaning on it with his elbows. + +"What do you want?" he asked. + +"Tea." + +Lin Soo grunted. + +"You no fool," he said. + +Bill laughed. + +"How do you know?" + +"You want no tea." + +"What do I want?" + +Lin Soo's head wagged again. + +"Guess," said Bill. + +"Give it up," replied Lin. + +"Why did you leer at the girl we had with us? You frightened her, you +oily beast," said Bill. + +Lin Soo started back. This was evidently unexpected, and Bill was a +formidable fellow to tackle. + +Lin Soo protested he had not stared at her. Lots of silly women were +frightened at Chinamen--why he didn't know. They had no cause to be. + +"They have every cause," said Bill. "Chinamen have ruined many white +women. Some of you yellow dogs buy and sell our girls, and trade them to +human beasts, who disgrace their colour. They're worse than you +fellows." + +"Much worse," agreed Lin. "You know about it?" + +"About what?" + +"Trading in white girls." + +"Yes, you scoundrel. I expect you've been at it." + +Lin Soo protested. He was a good Chinaman,--not one of that sort. + +Bill noticed the leer in his eyes, and concluded he was a deep-dyed +rogue. + +"Have you ever been out West?" he asked out of curiosity. + +Lin Soo said he had. A few years ago he had business in Bourke. + +Bill became interested. What took him to Bourke? + +Dealings with a big man, a man of money. He did not live at Bourke, but +he met him, Lin Soo, there. + +"What sort of dealings?" queried Bill. + +Lin Soo would not disclose them. + +Bill questioned him for some time, and discovered that he might smoke +opium there if he wished; also that he might gamble for a considerable +sum if he so desired. + +He left the shop, wondering what had induced him to waste his time +there. + +Lin Soo watched him go up the street, scowled after him, called him bad +names and cursed him in some horrible guttural way. + +"You sneaking round me," he said. "Better take care. Lin Soo stand no +fool play. Me stare at white woman! Why not? Me had dealings with many +white women. Business in Bourke with what you call squatter and white +woman. Tell him? Not muchy!" + +Bill walked into Pitt Street. When he came to the corner of Market +Street he stopped and stared. + +That looks uncommonly like Craig Bellshaw, he thought. + +The man he had seen turned round and came towards him. It was Bellshaw. +He saw Bill Bigs and recognised him. + +"You here, Bigs? What brings you to Sydney?" + +"I've sold out." + +"Have you? Tired of Boonara, eh?" + +"It's hardly a paradise as you know, and I got a good price for the +place, so I thought I'd quit." + +"I expect you've knocked up a nice little pile out of the natives, the +fencers, and my men, shearers, and so on. I had a nip or two at your +shanty. I can taste it yet. What horrible stuff you sold," said Craig. + +"No worse than others sell. No worse than the man who bought me out will +sell." + +"Who bought you out?" + +"Don't you know?" + +"How should I?" + +"Garry Backham. He paid cash down, too. I wonder where he came by it? I +don't suppose you've been over liberal with him," said Bill. He watched +Bellshaw as he spoke, and the squatter returned his glance without a +flicker. + +"Garry's bought you out? I wondered why he wanted to leave me," replied +Bellshaw. + +He's lying, thought Bill, and wondered why. + +"He'll not find it all profit," said Bill. + +Bellshaw laughed. + +"I don't expect he will," he agreed. "Who's there now looking after the +place?" + +"He is." + +"You mean he's left Mintaro and gone to Boonara?" + +"That's about it. He was in the house when I came away." + +"The scoundrel. He's neglected my interests. He shall pay for it. He'd +no business to leave Mintaro until I returned." + +"I expect Mintaro will be all right. You've plenty of hands there." + +Bellshaw laughed again. + +"I daresay they'll pull through somehow," he said. + +When Craig Bellshaw left him Bill went back to the coffee house, and +told them he had seen him. + +"Did he say when he was returning?" asked Glen. "I don't want to meet +him. He's not my kind. Besides he might try and make it nasty over +leaving the fence. He's one of that sort." + +"He's sure to be going back soon. He's been here some time I fancy. I +wonder why he tried to make me believe he knew nothing about Garry +Backham taking my place? It's all bunkum. He knew right enough, but he +must have some reason for trying to hide it," said Bill. + +"If all I've heard about Mintaro is correct there are some queer goings +on at times. I've never been there, but one of the fellows on the fence, +Abe Carew, was employed by him for a long time. He offended Bellshaw, +who kicked him out, and he was very sore about it. He gave him a nice +character. I didn't believe it all, of course, but no doubt a lot of +it's true," Glen remarked. + +"Bellshaw's one of those queer sorts, you never know what they are up +to, never know when you've got 'em. He's been in my place and said +things I knew were lies, and he seemed to have no reason for it, but he +must have had," said Bill. + +"Some fellows lie for the sake of lying," Glen answered. + +The woman slept all night until late next morning. When she came into +the large room Glen was the only one in it. She went straight up to him, +holding out both hands. When he took them she kissed him. The hot blood +surged in his veins. Was she always going to do this? He was glad no one +saw it. + +"You feel much better?" he asked when he had recovered his equanimity. + +"Almost well. Sleep is wonderful. Are we going to live here?" she +returned. + +"No. This is a sort of hotel. We are staying here until we find a home." + +"Why did we leave home?" she asked. + +"It was impossible to stay there; there was only one room in the hut." + +"Wasn't it always like that?" she asked as though trying to recall +something. + +"No, not always. Can't you remember?" + +"Remember--what?" + +"Where you came from when you came to the hut." + +She laughed. + +"How funny you are. You know I always lived there." + +"With me, and Jim, and Bill?" he asked. + +She seemed puzzled. + +"It must have been so, and yet--" she put her hand to her head. + +He watched her. Would she remember, or would he have to wait? That it +would all come back to her some day he was certain, and then-- + +She was at the window, looking into the street. Lin Soo's shop was +nearly opposite, but he was not visible. + +A dark man walked rapidly along, and was about to enter Lin Soo's when a +cab horse slipped and fell. This attracted his attention. He turned +round with the intention of going to assist the driver, but the horse +struggled to his feet unaided. + +As the man looked across the road the woman at the window gave a faint +cry. Glen was at her side in a moment. + +"What is it?" he asked. + +"That man, the dark man, looking this way. I've seen him before. Who is +he? Do you know?" she said in an agitated voice. + +It was Craig Bellshaw. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE ACCUSATION + + +"Have you seen him before? Do you know him? His name is Craig Bellshaw. +He lives at Mintaro, a big homestead, some miles from the hut, the home +we left," said Glen. + +The fear, or whatever it was, passed. She smiled. No, she did not know +him, nor had she heard the name. + +"Perhaps you knew someone like him?" Glen suggested. + +She shook her head. She did not remember. + +Much to Glen's surprise he saw Bellshaw go into Lin Soo's shop. He came +out again in about a quarter of an hour, hailed a passing hansom, and +drove away. + +Why had he gone into the Chinaman's? It was about the last place Glen +would have expected to see him in. He told Bill what had happened. They +could make nothing of it, but it made a deep impression on them. + +Craig Bellshaw was uneasy. The face on the water troubled him; it +haunted him as he walked about. He left Sydney suddenly and returned to +Mintaro, where he arrived unexpectedly. He found everything going on as +usual. Garry Backham had put a man in charge of the shanty at Boonara, +and returned to his duties until such time as Bellshaw came back. + +"I met Bigs in Sydney," said Bellshaw. "He told me you went into his +place the day he left, and handed it over to you. I suppose you came +back when he had gone?" + +"Yes. I thought it best to make sure of the place. Bigs is a shifty +customer. If I'd left him in charge he might have done me out of no end +of things," returned Garry. + +"Probably he would. He seemed surprised when I told him I didn't know +you had bought him out." + +Garry grinned. + +"Of course you didn't know. How should you?" + +The two men looked hard at each other. + +"Joe Calder's dead," said Garry. + +Bellshaw started. + +"Dead," he exclaimed. + +"Murdered. Shot through the heart." + +"Who did it?" + +"Nobody knows, but I have a suspicion," Garry answered. "He's buried, +and so far as that goes it's done with, but he was a friend of mine, and +yours, and we ought to do something." + +"I shan't. Let it be, man. What's the good of kicking up a fuss?" argued +Bellshaw. + +"Two men have cleared out from the fence." + +"Who are they?" + +"Glen Leigh and Jim Benny." + +"Good riddance to them. They were rotters--no good to me." + +"You don't like Leigh. He's been one too many for you once or twice." + +"I hate him. It was Leigh who kicked up a fuss about that mob of cattle +that broke the fencing down. He complained that I ought to have them +driven off, and said it was not the duty of the keepers of the fence." + +"It's part of their duty. They are a lazy lot of beggars," replied +Garry. "I fancy Glen Leigh and Jim Benny know a good deal about Joe +Calder's death." + +"Do you think that's why they have cleared out?" + +"Yes. Don't you?" + +"It may have something to do with it; I wish I could find out." + +"You said a minute or two back it was best left alone," said Garry. + +"But this is different. I'd like to put a halter round Leigh's neck." + +"Why? Have you any strong reason?" + +"I'm told Abe Carew and he were pals, and that Abe told him a good many +things about Mintaro. Calder gave me the information," Bellshaw +answered. + +"Did he now, and Abe wouldn't spare you, would he?" + +"Spare me? What do you mean? He'd tell a lot of infernal lies about me, +the scoundrel." + +"You should be more careful how you send men away. You were not over +polite to him," said Garry. + +"He didn't deserve it. He robbed me right and left." + +"I don't think he did. I told you so at the time." + +Bellshaw made an impatient gesture. + +"You know nothing about it; I shan't be sorry when you're gone, Garry. +You've been getting above yourself for some time." + +"You think so, do you? I shan't be sorry to get away from Mintaro. +There's some things a fellow can't stand." + +Bellshaw laughed harshly. + +"I didn't think you were soft, or chicken-hearted," he said. + +"I'm not, but I'd like to know what became of the woman," retorted +Garry. + +"I told you I took her away with me because I was tired of her, and that +she was going back to Sydney with me," said Bellshaw. + +"Did she go to Sydney with you?" + +"Yes." + +"And she's there now?" + +"Yes." + +"With her mother, I suppose," sneered Garry. + +"Never mind who she's with. She's all right." + +"I don't believe you took her to Sydney," said Garry. + +Bellshaw glared at him. + +"Where else could I take her?" he asked fiercely. + +"Nowhere." + +"What do you mean by that?" + +"It's pretty lonely about here. One woman would not be missed." + +Bellshaw caught him by the arm in a fierce grip and raised his fist. + +"Be careful, or I'll make it hot for you," he snarled. + +Garry wrenched himself free. + +"Let me alone. I guess I'm a match for you, and I'm not afraid of you, +if other people are," he cried. "You lent me the money to buy Bill Bigs +out. Well, it will be better for you to make me a present of it." + +Craig Bellshaw started back. + +"Look," he said, "see that?" and he pointed to the wide verandah, built +round the house. + +"There's nothing there," answered Garry, thinking he must have been +doing it heavy in Sydney and that the effects had not died out. + +"No, of course not," said Bellshaw, trying to laugh it off. "So you say +I had better make you a present of it. Why?" + +"Because I know you did not take her to Sydney," said Garry slowly. + +"It's a lie," roared Bellshaw. + +"No it isn't, and you know it. Where is she now?" + +"That's my affair." + +"You can't tell me. I'm worth a few hundreds. I'll bet them you can't +tell me," Garry persisted. + +"This is foolishness. What the deuce have you got into your head?" + +"More than you think. I know you travelled to Sydney alone," replied +Garry. + +"And supposing I did, you fool, do you expect I'd travel in the same +carriage with her?" + +"Maybe not, but you'd have been only too glad to have gone anywhere with +her a couple of years back," Garry retorted. + +"It was her own fault. She was tired of my company. She behaved badly. I +treated her well," said Bellshaw. + +"When you first brought her from Bourke you did, but I don't think she +ever forgave, or forgot, how she came here. It was a blackguardly trick +to play her." + +"What trick?" + +"Oh, stow that. Do you mean to say you think I don't know? I'm no fool. +She was dazed, drugged, or something, when she came. Why it was more +than a week before she found out where she was, and she had to stay +because she couldn't get away. There was nowhere to go." + +"We'll drop all that. She's safe enough now. Don't bother your head +about her." + +"But that's just what I do. I might have saved her. I could have done so +if I'd had the pluck, but you bought me off, and I hate myself for it. +Do you know what I think?" + +"No." + +"You can have it whether you like it or not--I think you've done away +with her." + +Bellshaw stepped up to him in a threatening attitude. + +"Stand back," said Garry, pulling out his revolver. "I found this near +the big water hole when I was having a ride round." + +He pulled a handkerchief and a piece of ribbon out of his pocket. + +"Well?" Bellshaw asked. + +"There'd been a struggle near the water hole, but she wasn't in there. I +made sure of that, but you left her there, and she's as dead as if you'd +shoved her in. She'd starve, die of thirst, go mad wandering about. It +would have been more merciful to strangle her. I saw her tracks for some +distance, but I couldn't follow them far; the ground soon dries up. +She's no more in Sydney than I am, and you've done a brutal, cowardly +act, Craig Bellshaw!" + +Bellshaw made no answer, and Garry went on, "It'll come home to you some +day, mark my words if it doesn't. If I thought she was alive I'd be +mighty glad, for I feel as though I had a hand in it. When I saw her +drive away with you something told me you meant mischief, but I never +thought you'd kill her by inches. Hadn't she suffered enough at your +hands that you must let her die such a terrible death?" + +"Have you done?" asked Bellshaw quietly. His tone surprised Garry. + +"Yes, I've said enough, and you know the bulk of it's true." + +"You may think it is, although it's a poor recompense for all I have +done for you. However, I bear you no malice. I have only one request to +make." + +"What is it?" asked Garry. + +"Keep your thoughts to yourself. The law is powerful. There's more than +that--in this part of the country I am the law, and I can take it into +my own hands without fear of being called to account. You've seen me do +it; you know I'm not a man to be cowed, that I do not fear you, or any +other man, nor what you say, or do. Listen to me, Garry Backham. There +are men round Mintaro who will do my bidding for money, no matter what +it is I ask. You know the sort of men, desperate, some of them, the +worst of criminals. If I hear any of the lies you have said repeated I +will burn your place to the ground, and you with it. You had best keep a +still tongue." + +Garry knew he was capable of carrying out his threats, and that he had +the men to do what he willed. He believed the accusation he had brought, +but he had no wish to run into grave danger. + +"You'll think about that money, Mr. Bellshaw," he said. + +"You mean giving it you, not lending it?" + +"Yes." + +"It depends upon yourself," was the reply. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +JERRY, JOURNALIST + + +In a small house, in a side street, on Moore Park, the woman who came to +Sydney with Glen Leigh, and the other two, had rooms. It had been +decided to call her Clara Benny, as it was necessary she should have a +name, and to install her here. Mrs. Dell, who kept the house, was a +widow, a respectable woman in reduced circumstances, and she had +promised to do what she could for her lodger. Clara could not understand +it. She wanted the three to be with her. They had always been together. +Why should they leave her alone? It was useless to try and explain, and +no attempt was made. Glen said it was necessary because they had to +work, and it would be better for her to have a kind motherly woman to +look after her; this made her more contented, and one of them called to +see her every day. Mrs. Dell was puzzled over her lodger; she fancied +she suffered from some brain trouble, but she liked her from the first, +and quickly came to love her; she looked upon her as a substitute for +her own girl, who had died of consumption at about the same age. Clara +repaid this affection, and in a very short time they became inseparable. +The money she received for her board and lodging was a great help to +Mrs. Dell, and Glen Leigh was always supplying some delicacy for the +table. + +Bill Bigs succeeded in finding a small hotel to his liking in +Castlereagh Street. The seller came into some money, and sailing for +England, was glad to find a buyer at a reasonable price. The house was +in bad condition, but Bill, with his usual energy, quickly set to work, +and in a few weeks it was spick and span, clean and inviting. There was +a steady trade, and a fair number of customers frequented the +place--many theatrical, sporting and pressmen, with whom he became +popular. + +Jerry Makeshift, of "The Sketch," found good copy in Bill. Jerry was +one of the most popular men in Sydney, a wonderfully clever black and +white artist, a born joker, and an excellent writer of highly +sensational news, in paragraphs, or columns, as required. He had one +failing, not an unusual one in these days. He was fond of his glass and +hilarious company, and as he always had a lot of admirers following in +his wake he soon brought genial customers to "The Kangaroo," as Bill +curiously named the place. Jerry Makeshift extracted from Bill much +interesting press matter about Boonara, and the district surrounding it; +also about the keepers of the fence. + +The clever journalist was astounded at what he heard, especially about +the men on the rabbit-proof fence. In a hazy sort of way he had heard of +them before, but when Bill began to talk about them, with intimate +knowledge, Jerry opened his eyes. + +"I'll introduce you to two of 'em," said Bill. "They are staying with +me. In fact they came to Sydney with me from the forsaken place. They +found the life too much for 'em, and you bet it must be awful when such +men as they throw it up." + +"I'd like to meet them," replied Jerry. "How is it I have not done so +before?" + +"Well, it's this way. They're busy. They've got a scheme in hand that I +suggested, and I think it's just the thing for 'em and will pay well," +and he explained about the buckjumping exhibition. + +"By Jove, that's a capital idea," said Jerry, who saw the possibilities +at once. + +"You might be able to give it a lift," suggested Bill cautiously. + +"Probably. I will if I can, but I must hear more about it," Jerry +answered. + +"Come in to-night, and I'll introduce you to Glen Leigh. He's the chap, +a wonderful man, as straight as a die, big, strong, a rough customer, +but with the heart of a child when anything appeals to his better +nature. Why he went on the fence the Lord only knows. I remember him +arriving in Boonara. It caused quite a sensation. No one could make him +out then, and no one made him out before he left. A mystery man, that's +what he is. Don't forget to-night. I'll have a decent dinner for you, +and a bottle of the right stuff, and you can talk in my room to your +heart's content." + +"That will suit me," said Jerry as he went out. + +"He's a good sort," thought Bill. "He ought to be able to boom the show +when it starts." + +Glen Leigh was averse to talking with strangers, but Bill persuaded him +to meet Jerry Makeshift. + +"It's the fellow who draws those funny things that catch the eye on the +front page of 'The Sketch.' They're the cleverest things out, and 'The +Sketch' is the best paper of its kind in Australia. It goes all over the +place. It even got as far as Boonara," said Bill. + +"And I've had many a copy in my hut," answered Glen. "I don't mind +meeting a man like that. He's out of the common. He can teach you +something." + +"That's settled," said Bill. "He'll be here at seven, and mind you pitch +it him strong about the show. He'll ask you about work on the fence. +Tell him what it's like; he'll appreciate it." + +Jerry Makeshift was punctual. He loved a good dinner and he sniffed +appreciatively as he came into the house. Jim Benny was away, so Glen +went upstairs with his companion, and they did full justice to Bill's +good things, which he laid himself out to supply. + +Jerry at once saw that Glen Leigh was no ordinary man, and that he would +have to be handled in anything but an orthodox fashion. With his usual +skill in such matters he set to work to propitiate him, and succeeded so +well that at the end of the dinner Glen was talking freely to him. He +told him all about the glittering wire, of the awful loneliness of the +life, the terrible droughts, the millions of rabbits, how they died in +hundreds of thousands from lack of food, and their bones were piled up +in great heaps. He told of the losses of sheep and cattle, how squatters +were almost ruined, and had to borrow money to go on with. He pictured +the thousands of square miles of desolate land without a blade of +grass; then suddenly the rain fell in torrents and in twenty-four hours +came the glorious change from baked brown to verdant glistening green +which covered the earth like a brilliant carpet, dazzling the eyes, that +had been accustomed to dead colours for months at a stretch. + +Then he went on to describe the life on the fence, the men, their varied +characters; some strange stories he told of crime and criminals that he +heard when he was one of the keepers. His language was plain and simple +so that every word hit home. + +Jerry Makeshift listened with his eyes fixed intently on Glen Leigh's +face. As he talked he seemed to forget where he was; he was back again +in his old surroundings, in the hut, in Bill's shanty at Boonara. He +stopped suddenly. There must be no mention of Clara Benny, the woman in +the hut, or how they came to Sydney. + +"I never heard such a thrilling, interesting, story before," said Jerry, +who knew he had discovered a storehouse of fresh copy in Glen Leigh. +Apart from this Leigh had won his wayward, roving nature completely. +Here was a man after his own heart, a man who had seen much and done +more, a worker at the hardest kind of work, who went grinding on in +solitude with no word of encouragement from a living soul. + +Glen Leigh had made a staunch friend. He did not think he had done +anything, or said anything, out of the common. That was where he proved +so attractive to Jerry. The practised journalist knew every word he +heard was true, that no exaggeration was here. On the contrary the +reality must have been ten times worse than it was described. + +"Tell me about this buckjumping show Bigs mentioned," said Jerry. + +Glen smiled. + +"Bill's sanguine, too sanguine, about that." + +"I don't think he is. There are great possibilities in it," Jerry +answered. + +"Maybe so, but it'll take a lot of working up." + +"I'll do what I can for you," promised Jerry. + +"You will! That's good of you. I reckon a few words from you, or a +sketch from your pen, goes a long way with the public," replied Glen. + +Jerry laughed. There was not an atom of conceit about him. + +"I do my best to amuse the public. I fancy I manage it all right +somehow, but heaven knows where the talent I possess comes from, for I +never had much education. I'm what they call self-taught." + +"Then you were a better teacher than hundreds of men who profess to know +a heap of things," declared Glen. + +"Perhaps so. A battle with the world when you're young is a good +education in itself," replied Jerry. + +Glen told him how "The Sketch," and Jerry's drawings, were to be found +even on the fence and in Boonara. + +"I've spent hours over 'em," he said. "The man who can make a keeper of +the fence laugh deserves a big pension for life." + +Jerry pulled "The Sketch" out of his pocket. + +"That's the latest. Just off the press. I'll leave it you." + +A paper fell on the floor. Jerry picked it up. + +"Have you seen this?" he asked. + +"What is it?" + +"Tattersalls' Hundred Thousand Pound Sweep on the Melbourne Cup. You +ought to try your luck in it," said Jerry. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +IN SEARCH OF HORSES + + +"I think I'll risk a pound," said Glen laughing. + +"A hundred thousand pound sweep is not bad, and the winner takes about a +fourth of it," Jerry answered. + +"Twenty-five thousand. That would do me all right. No occasion for more +work. I'd buy a nice little property and be comfortable for the +remainder of my life," said Glen. + +They parted in a very cordial manner. It was not often Glen let himself +go like this, but he liked Jerry, and when he was fond of a man he was +not slow to show it. + +Glen went West next day and forgot all about the ticket, but there was +plenty of time as the sweep did not close for several weeks. + +He went on a purchasing expedition, to buy horses for the show, while +Bill Bigs and Jim Benny were preparing the way in Sydney for an opening +in the exhibition building, which had already been secured. Jim had no +desire to go into the Boonara district again after what had happened. +There was no telling what rumours might be about. As a matter of fact +Garry Backham was sorry he had thrown out a hint to Craig Bellshaw. He +might be inclined to follow it up. + +Garry was very much surprised one morning when Glen Leigh walked into +his place and bade him the time of day as though he had seen him a few +hours before. Leigh was a cool hand and never flustered, except on +special occasions, when he knew he had been put upon, or someone tried +to bounce him. When he flared up there were ructions, as more than one +man on the fence had found out during his time there. + +"You're about the last man I expected to see in Boonara," said Garry. + +"I daresay I am. I'm here on business. I can put some money in your way +if you'll help me. We were never very friendly, but that's all over. I +daresay you have no objections to earning money?" + +"None at all. We're most of us that way inclined," replied Garry. "As to +being bad friends, don't you think that was mostly your fault?" + +"No. There was a good bit of underhand work on the fence, sneaking, and +so on. Joe Calder and you were pretty thick. I fancy Bellshaw got some +hints, true or untrue, from the pair of you." + +"He never got any from me, whatever he did from Joe." + +"Are you quite sure?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, I'll try and believe it. Joe Calder paid for all the wrong he +did." + +"Do you know what some folks say about here?" + +"No." + +"That either you, or Jim Benny, shot him, and that's why you both +cleared out." + +"They say that, eh?" + +"Yes." + +"They're wide of the mark. Why didn't they say it before we left, not +when our backs were turned?" asked Glen. + +Garry smiled. + +"It wouldn't do for a man to accuse you to your face of murder," he +answered. + +"Then you don't hold me responsible for Calder's death?" Glen queried. + +"Not likely, is it?" answered Garry. "What's the business you're here +on?" + +"I want a dozen of the worst bucking horses in the district. It swarms +with bad 'uns of all sorts," said Glen. + +"You're right. I never saw such brutes in my life. Mintaro's overrun +with them, if one could only find them." + +"Would Bellshaw sell some?" asked Glen. + +"I should say he'd be only too glad to get rid of any you cared to +pick." + +"You can manage it, can't you? You were always on good terms with him," +said Glen. + +"I'm not now," replied Garry. + +Glen looked surprised. He thought Bellshaw found the money with which +Garry bought Bill Bigs out. + +"You don't mind me saying it, but Bill fancied Bellshaw found you the +money for this place," he said. + +"He did, but he only lent it me. It's since I bought it we quarrelled." + +"Serious?" + +"Rather, but we've agreed to drop it. Still, we're not on good terms." + +"Then I'd better go and see him alone," said Glen. + +Garry hesitated. There was no telling how Bellshaw might act, as Glen +ought to have sent in his notice to him before he left the fence. He +knew, however, that Glen Leigh was capable of taking care of himself, +and that he was more than a match for the squatter. + +"Perhaps you had," he agreed. "I can tell you where the best horses for +your purpose are to be found. I never saw such beasts, regular savages, +half wild, unbroken, not even handled, and some of them six years old. +They're most of 'em by old Tear'em, as they call him. Perhaps you've +heard of him?" + +"I've heard the name, but nothing much about him except that he's a +savage." + +"So he is, and so are all his lot. Tear'em has accounted for more than +one man's life," said Garry. + +"Why doesn't Bellshaw shoot him?" + +"That's more than I can tell. It strikes me he rather likes the horse. +It suits his temperament." + +"Where are these horses to be found?" + +"At the Five Rocks most likely. Do you know where that is?" + +"No." + +"To the south of Mintaro, a good twenty miles." + +"And how the deuce am I to get at 'em? I shall want assistance." + +"If you get Bellshaw's permission to bag a dozen or two I'll go with you +to get 'em and take half a dozen men from here." + +"That's a bargain," said Glen. "I expect it will be tough work getting +'em into the trucks when we have driven them as far as Bourke, if ever +we get 'em there." + +"Never fear about that. I know how to handle them. What are you going to +do with 'em when they reach Sydney?" + +Glen explained, and Garry thought the idea splendid. He was quite sure +it would pay. He said he'd like to be in it. + +"So you shall, Garry," said Glen, who was one of the quick forgiving +kind. "How much?" + +"A couple of hundred or so." + +"It's as good as done. Of course, I must consult Bill. He's the prime +mover, the originator of the scheme." + +"You'll stay the night?" Garry asked. + +"I've no time to spare. I must return as soon as possible, so if you'll +let me have a fresh horse I'll ride on to Mintaro at once." + +"You can have the best I've got. It'll be nothing very grand, but I'll +find one that will take you there." + +He went out, leaving him in the bar. + +Glen as he looked round vividly recalled the day he rode in from the hut +to see Bill on behalf of the woman. He wondered what she was doing. Was +Jim Benny with her? He did not like the idea of Jim seeing too much of +her. Yet it was foolish of him. Why should he not see her as often as he +wished? She was supposed to be his sister. + +Garry returned and said the horse would be round in a few minutes. + +"Don't ruffle Bellshaw," he counselled. "He's not been in the best of +tempers since he came home from Sydney." + +"Bill had a talk with him in Pitt Street, and I saw him. Where do you +think he was going?" + +"I don't know. He's a queer sort." + +"Into a Chinaman's shop in Lower George Street. A fellow named Lin Soo. +A beastly-looking Johnnie. I wonder what he went there for?" + +Garry was glad Glen was not looking at him or he might have seen his +agitation and wondered at it. + +"He knows a lot of curious people," he answered. "Probably he went to +buy tea." + +"It wasn't a tea shop, although that is what Lin Soo pretends it is. I +expect, from what Bill said, it's an opium den, or worse." + +"There are lots of 'em in Sydney," said Garry with an assumption of +carelessness. + +"Plenty in that quarter. They ought to root the whole lot out. It +wouldn't be a bad job if the places were burned down." + +Glen went out, mounted, and had a parting word with Garry, who said, +"Remember what I told you about Bellshaw. There's something wrong with +him, I'm certain." + +"In what way?" + +"He talks a bit wild, and seems to have something on his mind; he sees +things," and he told Glen about the verandah incident. "I put it down to +the spree he'd probably been on in Sydney." + +"I'll humour him," replied Glen laughing. "If he turns rusty I'll have +to try and get the horses elsewhere. There are plenty of 'em, I +expect." + +"Heaps, but none half so good for your purpose as those at the Five +Rocks, by old Tear'em, or one of his sons," said Garry. + +Glen waved his hand as he rode away. Garry watched him until horse and +man became specks in the distance. As he went inside he muttered, "I +think I can guess why Craig Bellshaw went into Lin Soo's shop." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +LEIGH HEARS STRANGE THINGS + + +Craig Bellshaw was in an ill humour. He had received a letter from Lin +Soo which upset him. The Chinaman said he had changed his mind. He could +not supply him with what he required, it was too risky; already he had +been in trouble with the police, and he dare not undertake it. These +were not the exact words, for the letter was illiterate, but Lin Soo +made it plain enough to Bellshaw. + +"He hasn't returned the money I advanced him, but he'll have to if he +doesn't fulfil his part of the bargain. There's no risk, at least not +much, and he's done it before. I can't live here without some sort of +comfort." + +His quarrel with Garry Backham made him vindictive. He was rather afraid +of Garry after what he had said. The man knew too much about certain +things at Mintaro, doings, which, if they came to light, would get him +into serious trouble. He would have to give Garry the money he had lent +him, but intended keeping him in suspense for a time. + +Glen Leigh arrived at Mintaro in the evening. When Bellshaw saw who his +visitor was he wondered what brought him there. It was bold conduct on +Leigh's part to come and face him after deserting his post. + +"Are you surprised to see me?" asked Glen as he dismounted, and Bellshaw +came out. + +"Yes, you're a cool hand." + +"Why?" + +"I suppose you know I can have you arrested for deserting?" + +Glen laughed. + +"Who is to arrest me?" + +"I have the power." + +"And who's to look after me if you arrest me?" + +"I can easily manage that." + +"But you won't." + +"Why not?" + +"Because it would only cause you trouble and worry." + +"What have you come for?" + +"To buy horses," replied Glen. + +Bellshaw laughed as he said, "Turned horse-dealer, have you?" + +"I'm on the look out for a dozen of the worst buckjumpers I can find," +said Glen. + +"What for?" + +Glen explained. Bellshaw became interested. There seemed to be money in +the idea. + +"You'll find plenty here, but you'll have to sort them out yourself. I +can't afford men to help you." + +"I'm prepared for that. Garry Backham will find the men." + +"Backham's behaved badly towards me; he's not to be trusted. I shouldn't +advise you to have much to do with him." + +"He'll not get round me. I've had a long talk with him. He tells me you +put him into Bigs's place; it was good of you to help him." + +"And he's repaid me by the basest ingratitude, but it's generally the +way if you help a man." + +"It's not my way," said Glen. + +"You'll stop the night?" asked Bellshaw. + +"Yes, if you'll put me up." + +"There's heaps of room. You're welcome to some of it," answered Bellshaw +ungraciously. + +After dinner they talked about the horses, and Bellshaw agreed to let +him have a dozen for a hundred pounds, which was quite as much, or more, +than they were worth, but Glen had no desire to haggle over the affair. + +He slept in a room near Bellshaw's. In the wooden homestead sounds +carried far. + +About the middle of the night Glen was roused by hearing someone walking +on the verandah, pacing to and fro. The footsteps sounded stealthy and +peculiar. He could not make it out; his curiosity was aroused. He got +off the bed quietly, he was only partially undressed, and went to the +door, which opened on to the verandah. It was not locked. He turned the +handle, opened it cautiously, and looked out. There was a faint light, +and at the end of the verandah he saw Craig Bellshaw coming towards him; +he was, like himself, only partially dressed. He did not wish Bellshaw +to think he was spying on him so he almost closed the door and listened. + +The pad of his bare feet on the boards sounded strange in the stillness. + +Bellshaw stopped when nearly opposite Glen's room. He was talking in a +weird voice; it sounded unnatural. As Glen listened he came to the +conclusion that Bellshaw was walking in his sleep; to make sure he +opened the door wide. He could easily make an excuse that he heard +someone prowling about and wanted to see who it was--if Bellshaw were +not asleep. + +The squatter faced him, his eyes wide open, but vacant. He stared +fixedly at Glen but did not see him. + +"He's fast asleep," thought Glen, and crept closer to him, not being +able to restrain his curiosity. + +"Don't struggle, you fool, or make that horrid row. I'll put you in that +hole if you do. Bite, will you, you vixen? I've had enough of you; +you've tired me out with your grumbling ways. Brought you here by +force! It's a lie. You came of your own free will. You knew why you came +to Mintaro." + +Bellshaw clutched the air with his hands as though trying to strangle +something. Glen watched every movement closely. He felt he was on the +eve of a discovery. Bellshaw went down on his knees and pressed the +boards with both hands. + +"Keep still, will you! Keep still," he muttered, "or I'll crush the life +out of you. She's quiet now. I'll leave her here. She'll die. There's no +place for her to go to. She'll wander about until she drops, and then +give up. That's the best way. No one can say I killed her. I'll leave +you here. It will give you some sort of a chance if it is a poor one." + +Bellshaw got up and began talking again. This time Glen knew he was +speaking to his buggy horses. + +Suddenly Bellshaw caught Glen by the arm. For a moment the shock +staggered him. The awakening was dangerous; he seemed about to faint. +With an effort he pulled himself together and glared at Glen Leigh. + +"What the devil are you doing prowling about on the verandah at this +time of night?" asked Bellshaw. + +"I might ask the same question. I heard your footsteps. Naturally I +wanted to see who it was. You were walking in your sleep. I thought it +best not to wake you. I've heard it's dangerous," replied Glen. + +Craig Bellshaw shivered. He was thinking of what he might have said or +done, in Leigh's presence. + +"I'm troubled with sleep-walking," he said, "and have been for some +time. It's beastly. No doubt I do and say queer things for which I am +not responsible." + +Glen made no answer. He had heard sufficient to put him on what he +thought was the right track, and he could have strangled Bellshaw +without compunction. His hands itched to get at him, but he must bide +his time, and make his punishment more severe. A quick death was too +good for this man, if what he, Glen, surmised was correct. + +"I advise you to go and rest," he remarked at last, "or you'll be fit +for nothing later on." + +"I'm always upset after this," said Bellshaw. "It unnerves me. If you +want to get away early don't mind me. You can have as many buckjumpers +as you care to take. Pick 'em where you like. I'll lend them to you. +When you've finished with them you can return them, or sell them, and +we'll divide the money." + +He spoke feverishly, hurriedly, evidently with the intention of +propitiating Leigh. + +"No thank you," answered Glen. "I prefer to buy right out. I'll pick +what I want, and a hundred pounds will more than cover it. A bargain's a +bargain. Besides if I buy the horses I'm under no obligation to you, and +I can do as I like." + +Glen left him, went into his room, and shut the door. + +Bellshaw walked to his room and sat down in a cane chair, cursing his +luck that he should have walked in his sleep with Glen in the house. + +What had he said? + +This question kept on repeating itself with monotonous regularity. It +sounded like the ticking of a clock in his head. On one occasion, when +he woke up suddenly, and found himself on the verandah, it all came back +to him how he acted in his sleep. He remembered it now. Had he said +anything that Leigh could get hold of? + +No, of course he hadn't. If he'd gone through the whole thing Leigh +would not have understood what he meant. He laughed at his momentary +fears. Glen Leigh might think him mad, but he would never guess at the +truth; it was impossible. He started. Leigh had seen Garry Backham. Had +Garry told him what he suspected? This was hardly likely. Why should he? + +Glen Leigh did not lie down again. He was piecing the threads of a +tragedy together, and Craig Bellshaw was depicted as a most hideous +villain, a monster deserving of slow torture, if what he, Leigh, +thought were true. He'd find out, get proof, and when there was +sufficient to go upon, Craig Bellshaw had better beware. No mercy would +be shown him. The scene when he found Clara Benny in his hut rose before +him. He clenched his fists, raised them above his head, and vowed +vengeance on Craig Bellshaw. + +Taking a piece of paper he wrote in pencil in large letters LIN SOO. +Dressing himself he went out. When he reached Bellshaw's door he pushed +the paper underneath. He got his horse, saddled it, and rode towards +Boonara. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +"A MAGNIFICENT BRUTE" + + +It was late when Craig Bellshaw awoke from a restless slumber. His first +thoughts were about Glen Leigh, and the happenings of the night. He +wondered if he had gone. He hoped so; he had no desire to meet him again +at present. + +Opening the door he saw a piece of paper on the floor. Picking it up he +read the name Lin Soo written in pencil in large letters. + +He stared at it, wondering how it came there. + +Glen Leigh must have slipped it under the door. But why? What had he to +do with Lin Soo? Probably he had never heard of him, and yet there was +no one else to do it. + +Lin Soo. Supposing by some strange chance Glen Leigh had met the +Chinaman. Even so, it was not likely Lin Soo would say anything about +their transactions; he dare not. It flashed upon him he might have +mentioned the name in his ramblings. If so, what had he said in +connection with it? As he dressed he became nervous. If Glen Leigh had +an inkling of what had happened there would be trouble brewing. He, and +other keepers of the fence, had many grievances against Bellshaw which +they would be only too glad to pay off. He must try and find out what +had passed when he walked and talked in his sleep. It must be done +warily. + +"I'll see him before he returns to Sydney," he thought. "Even if he +heard things he had no business to, I can silence him. Murder is not so +easily shelved, and there's Joe Calder's death to account for." + +Glen Leigh arrived at Boonara, and next day set out for Five Rocks, with +Garry Backham and half a dozen good riders, used to the work, to round +up a mob of horses and make a selection. + +"The best plan will be," said Garry, "to drive 'em into the nearest +yard, which is about half a dozen miles away, and test them. It will be +a tough job, but the men who are going with us are used to that sort of +work. They'll not mind how rough they are." + +They did not ride near Mintaro, and Glen had no intention of going there +again. + +As he rode along with Garry, he mentioned about Craig Bellshaw walking +in his sleep; he said he talked a lot and acted strangely. + +"What did he say?" asked Garry. + +"Something about leaving someone to die--a woman. He went through some +curious antics, as though he were struggling with her. At the finish he +said he'd leave her to wander about until she died. He must have +committed some dastardly deed or he'd never rave like that," said Glen. + +Garry was silent. Should he tell Glen how much he knew? There was no +necessity for it, and he might be dragged into trouble if he did. + +"I've never seen him walk in his sleep," he replied eventually, "but +he's a queer fellow, and has more on his conscience than I'd care to +carry." + +"I've heard of strange doings at Mintaro when I was on the fence," said +Glen. + +"What sort of doings?" + +"About women who came and stayed for a time and were sent away." + +"I'd rather say nothing about it," answered Garry. + +Glen did not press the subject; he could find out what he wanted later +on. In case it were necessary, he would put a straight question or two +to Garry. + +It was late when they arrived at Five Rocks and camped for the night. +The place was well named. Five large rocks rose from the ground in the +strangest manner. They were conical, smooth, not many yards apart. Their +formation was a strange freak of nature. They were probably the result +of a fierce upheaval in some far distant age, when natives and wild +animals were the only occupants of the vast territory. + +There was a water hole in the centre of the group, fed from the rocks, +and Garry said it was this which brought the horses round, for it was +seldom dry. + +The six Boonara men were strong sturdy fellows used to a life of +hardships. They were not given to conversation and quickly rolled over, +with their saddles for pillows, and went to sleep. + +Garry and Glen talked for some time, but gradually they dropped off, and +the silence of the night reigned round the eight recumbent forms. + +As soon as daylight sprang upon them they were astir, and after a hasty, +scanty meal they set out to round up the horses. + +This was easier said than done. They traversed several miles before they +sighted a mob, but were rewarded by seeing at least fifty. + +"You'll be able to get what you want out of that lot," said Garry, "if +we can get 'em into the yard." + +"We'll manage that," answered one of the men. "I suppose the gates are +always open?" + +Garry said they were, and indicated the direction in which the horses +should be driven. + +The men set out to round them up on the side. Garry rode to the left, +Glen to the right, so as to guide them in the right direction as they +came along. + +The horses quickly scented danger, and started off, but were headed back +and driven at a wild tearing pace towards Garry and Glen. + +The pace became faster and Glen watched the horses as he rode at top +speed alongside them, and saw they were a good lot. He hoped their +vicious propensities had never been checked. They were all practically +unbroken. A few of them might have been handled and turned loose again, +but it was improbable. + +Towards the yards they went, the men shouting behind them. These yards +were erected with a view to driving horses, or cattle, into them with +the least trouble. They were at the end of a dried-up river between high +banks, whose strange formation Craig Bellshaw had taken advantage of. +The opening to the yards extended the whole width of the pass, and +there were three large gates through which horses entering the +cul-de-sac were bound to go. The difficulty was to head the wild horses +into the opening. Once in they were easily driven into the yards. + +As luck would have it, the leader of the mob headed direct for the spot, +guided by Garry on the one side, and Glen on the other. + +It was a stern chase, and it said much for the horses Garry supplied +that they kept pace with the galloping mob. As the leader rushed into +the narrow channel the rest followed him pell-mell. The men closed in +after them, driving them along at full speed, rushing them through +before they realised they were caught. When this happened the din was +tremendous. The trapped horses gave vent to their feelings by kicking, +squealing, and biting in an extraordinary manner. + +The men rested themselves and their horses and watched them. + +"There are pretty near fifty," said Garry. "They're a good-looking lot. +It's the recent rain's done it. They've had more to eat than they've +had for months past." + +"It will make them the harder to mount," replied Glen. + +"Suppose we give 'em a rest for a night, and try our luck to-morrow. +They'll have been without food for about eighteen hours, and it may tame +them down," Garry suggested. + +This was agreed to and they camped for the night close to the yards. + +Next morning business commenced in earnest. Likely looking horses were +separated from the rest, and then the struggle began. The bulk of them +were hard to saddle, still harder to mount, but it takes more than a +savage, untamed buckjumper to conquer a man from the West. + +There were some stiff fights, and now and again a horse more desperate +than the rest managed to rid himself of his rider after a long struggle. +He was at once selected by Glen as one of his lot. + +Glen Leigh excited the admiration of the men by the way he rode a +tremendous horse about six or seven years old. He was a rough untamed +animal, probably a son of old Tear'em, Garry said. At any rate he was +very like that incorrigible savage. He stood nearly seventeen hands, and +had the strength of half a dozen ordinary wild horses. + +It took them half an hour to get the saddle and bridle on, and Glen was +another ten minutes before he got into his saddle. + +The Boonara men never forgot that mighty struggle. They talked about it +for years after, whenever buckjumpers were mentioned. It easily broke +all records as far as they were concerned. + +The huge animal was a prince among buckjumpers, and Glen had all his +work cut out to keep his seat. The horse bounded up and down as though +his legs were springs. One moment he was off the ground, on all fours, +his back arched like a bended bow, the next his fore feet were planted +firmly on the ground and his hind quarters elevated almost to the +perpendicular. He twirled and twisted in an extraordinary fashion, lay +down, crushed Glen's leg, rushed against the fence, did everything to +throw his grim rider, but without avail. At last he stood covered in +sweat, and quivering in every limb. It was then that Glen dismounted, +but when he tried to get into the saddle he found the horse ready for +another battle-royal. + +"He'll do, Garry. If anyone can ride him in Sydney they'll earn any +prize that may be offered. What a magnificent brute he is. If one could +only tame him--but I expect that's impossible," said Glen. + +"By Gad, you can ride above a bit," was Garry's admiring comment. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE BIG SHOW + + +The horses selected were safely railed to Sydney. Bill Bigs had secured +stabling for them; such as it was it answered the purpose. They bore the +journey better than might have been expected, but there was some danger +and difficulty in getting them through the streets to Redfern. Once they +were safely housed Glen felt a difficult task was well done. + +He went to see Clara Benny. She welcomed him in her usual way, with a +smile and a kiss. These constant kisses embarrassed Glen, but he liked +them. They showed she had faith in him, and that gave him hope. He told +her where he had been, and what for, watching her closely all the time, +but there were no signs of recognition. Her memory in that direction was +still a blank. + +He had no doubt, after what he had heard and seen, that she was at +Mintaro with Craig Bellshaw, and that he had driven her away, after a +struggle with her, and left her to die a terrible death, which would +have happened had she not found her way to the hut. For this Bellshaw +should pay in full when the time came. Glen, however, had such a lot of +work in hand with the horses that he had no time for anything else. It +took a month to get them in hand so that they could be saddled quickly, +but their bucking propensities were encouraged in every way. They were +given full scope in this direction. Jim and Glen were constantly in the +saddle. The big horse threw them both more than once, until Glen fairly +mastered, but could not tame him. + +He was a big bay horse with a savage-looking head, and his strength was +great. + +They called him The Savage, which was appropriate, and he did not belie +his name. + +There were fourteen horses in all, and a cheque had been sent to Craig +Bellshaw for them. + +Jerry Makeshift came to a private exhibition, and was enthusiastic about +it. He gave the show valuable assistance in "The Sketch," spoke to many +of his press friends, and the buckjumpers were boomed well, so that +public excitement about them was roused to the highest pitch. + +The building was well adapted for the purpose. A ring was formed and +fenced in with stout posts and rails so that there would be no danger to +the spectators. On the opening night the place was packed. A challenge +had been issued. Two hundred pounds would be given to anyone who could +sit The Savage for ten minutes; assistance would be given to mount. +Fifty pounds was offered for riding half a dozen others, ten pounds for +the remainder, all ten minutes' spells. + +There were scores of men in Sydney and the surrounding districts who +thought they were equal to the various tasks set. + +Six well-known riders sent in their names. Two of them came from Wagga +with big reputations, and one from Bathurst. They all tried The Savage. +The horse had an easy task, for he was no sooner mounted than he shot +riders through the air like rockets. Not one of them made the semblance +of a fight with him. + +Then Glen Leigh's turn came. He sprang into the saddle without +assistance and the battle commenced. Round and round the ring The Savage +bucked in a series of furious leaps. He kicked, squealed, fought +desperately, tried to bite Glen's leg, but all in vain; he stuck to his +seat in splendid style. The Savage finding these tactics of no avail, +threw himself down. Glen slipped out of the saddle. As the horse +struggled to his feet he sprang on again amidst a hurricane of applause. +At the end of a quarter of an hour he concluded his exhibition, and when +he stood in the ring holding The Savage tight by the bridle, the people +cheered him to the echo, and the building rang with the shouts. The +other riders were exciting, but paled before the performance of Glen +Leigh and The Savage. + +As the crowd left the building everybody was asking who Glen Leigh was, +and where he came from. He was the most wonderful rider they had seen. + +Jerry Makeshift had not given Glen away. He reserved the account he +intended to publish for the issue following the opening night. He made +good use of the material he had in hand. It so happened that "The +Sketch" came out in the afternoon of the next day, and a full account of +the "keeper of the fence" was given and the manner in which he had +captured the horses and brought them to Sydney. + +It was the genuineness of the show that attracted the people, and the +place was crowded every night. Money came rolling in and the promoters +were in high spirits. + +Ivor Hadwin, Bellshaw's trainer, had been a great rider of rough, +unbroken horses on his father's station, before they fell on evil times, +were ruined by drought and moneylenders, and came to Sydney. On the +station he had ridden the worst of buckjumpers, and he thought with a +little practice he might be able to stick on The Savage for ten minutes +and win the two hundred pounds. For four nights running he succeeded in +riding the horses for the lowest prizes. Then he won one of fifty +pounds, and Glen Leigh complimented him. + +"You'll have to try for the two hundred," he said to Ivor. + +"That's what I mean to do." + +"Will you allow us to advertise it?" asked Glen. + +"Certainly," answered Hadwin. "I've no objections. You've treated me +well, and paid me the money I have won." + +"We shall always do that, and I hope you have to draw the two hundred, +but I warn you The Savage is a demon, and you'll have to keep your eyes +open," said Glen. + +"I believe at one time I could ride as well as you, but training has +made me a bit soft," replied Hadwin. + +Strange to say Glen Leigh did not know Hadwin was a trainer. No one told +him, probably taking it for granted that he knew. + +"You train racehorses?" asked Glen. + +"Yes, at Randwick. Come and see me one day." + +"With pleasure," said Glen. "Who do you train for?" + +Ivor Hadwin smiled. + +"I wonder someone has not told you about me," he said. + +"I never asked. There is such a heap of things to do I've had no time, +and it matters little who wins the prizes," returned Glen. + +"I train for Craig Bellshaw," said Ivor. + +Glen started. This was strange, especially as the horses all came from +Mintaro. + +"I know him," he said. + +"So do I, too well," answered Ivor. "He's a hard man to please." + +"I daresay he is," Glen agreed. + +Someone called him away and he left Hadwin, saying he would call and see +him next morning. + +"I'll be there. Come about eleven," said Ivor. + +"What night will you attempt to ride The Savage?" asked Glen, looking +back. + +"Saturday." + +"That's the best night for us, thanks." + +Glen told Bill what had passed between them when he reached The +Kangaroo. + +Jerry Makeshift was there. "You mean to say you didn't know until +to-night who Ivor Hadwin was?" he asked. + +"No." + +"And you made no enquiries?" + +"It didn't interest me. It was part of the show." + +"And no one enlightened you?" + +"No." + +"Well, I'm blessed. That's funny; everybody knows Hadwin. I'm told he's +likely to win the Caulfield Cup, or the Melbourne Cup, or both, for +Bellshaw," said Jerry. + +"Has Bellshaw some good horses?" enquired Glen. + +"Yes, about a dozen in all, I think, and four or five above the average, +but I don't go in for racing much. Tom Roslyn, of 'The Racing Life,' +told me. He's the best turf judge we have on the press, and he can pick +out good horses as easily as I can a bottle of wine." + +"Then he must be an uncommon judge," laughed Bill. + +"What's the name of the Cup horse?" asked Glen. + +"Barellan. He's five years old now, and has a nice weight, so Tom says. +I forget what it is," Jerry answered. + +"Here's Nick Gerard's list," put in Bill. "Barellan, 8st. 7lbs., in the +Melbourne Cup, 8st. 10lb. in the Caulfield Cup." + +"I'll ask Hadwin to let me have a look at him when I go there in the +morning," said Glen. + +"Have you bought a ticket in the big sweep on the Melbourne Cup yet?" +asked Jerry. + +"No, I forgot all about it," replied Glen. + +"I'll get one for you if you like," said Jerry. + +"I wish you would. Here's the money," and he handed him a sovereign. + +Jerry tossed it, "Heads a horse, tails a blank," he called. + +The coin fell on the table head up. + +"That's a fair start, anyhow. Let's hope it will be a good 'un you +draw." + +Glen laughed. + +"I haven't much faith in sweeps. I was never tempted to throw money away +in them." + +"Have one in the Caulfield Cup as well?" suggested Jerry. + +"No, that will be sufficient," returned Glen. "It's a sovereign gone to +the bad." + +"Don't be too sure about that; it's your maiden effort, and may prove +successful," said Jerry. + +"Get me a ticket at the same time," said Bill. + +"All right, and I hope when I call here with them it will bring luck to +The Kangaroo," answered Jerry. + +"I can do with the cash," said Glen laughing, "Bill's got heaps." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +MRS. PREVOST + + +Glen Leigh went by the train to Randwick, and walked to Hadwin's +stables. The trainer was glad to see him. He liked him; something hearty +about Glen appealed to him. + +"We'll have a look round the horses first, if you care to see them," +said the trainer. + +"That's just what I want," replied Glen. "I'm fond of horses. When I was +a keeper on the fence old Ping was my only companion. I've got him in +Sydney. He's the queerest horse out; you'd be amused at him. I don't +suppose you'd consider him worth a fiver, but it would take a good many +fivers to buy him." + +"A bush horse, I suppose?" + +"Yes, one of the best, a faithful old slave. We've been companions for +many years." + +"I like a man who's fond of horses. What a queer name--Ping." + +"And he's a queer horse," laughed Glen. + +They went round the stables. All the horses belonged to Craig Bellshaw; +they were a fair lot as far as Glen could judge. + +"That's Flash," said Ivor, pointing to a good-looking chestnut. "He's +rather smart." + +Glen eyed him over and came to the conclusion he was the best he had +seen so far. In the next box was Barellan. The brown horse looked well. +He was full of muscle, hard and clean. + +As they entered his box he turned and looked at them. When he saw the +trainer he seemed quite contented, knowing everything was all right when +he was there. + +"He's quiet enough," said Ivor. "Have a good look at him. He's a bit +different tempered from The Savage." + +"I hope so, for your sake," retorted Glen smiling, "or you stand a very +fair chance of being killed." + +"That's something to look forward to on Saturday night," Ivor answered. + +Glen went up to the horse and examined him well, passing his hand over +him, carefully taking in his points. It was difficult to find fault with +Barellan. If there was one it was his hocks, which were large and rather +unsightly, but there was nothing wrong with them. They were rather low +down, in the greyhound style. He had a splendid back and quarters, good +shoulders, neck and chest, a shapely head and a good forehead, and fine +eyes. He stood over sixteen hands. + +"What do you think of him?" Ivor asked. + +"He's a good-looking horse. He ought to gallop. He's built for it," +replied Glen. + +"So he can. He's the best I have by a long way, although some people +prefer Flash." + +"I don't," said Glen promptly. "He's in the Melbourne Cup, isn't he?" + +"Yes, in both Cups," said the trainer. + +"Will he go for them both?" + +"I don't know. It depends on the sweep-money, I expect. Bellshaw's +always insisted on having a cut out of the sweep with his horses." + +"I suppose that is a regular thing," said Glen. + +"Generally speaking it is, but he's greedy. He wants too much," Ivor +answered. + +Glen stayed to lunch, and they chatted about life in the West, and the +trainer told him about the doings at Randwick and elsewhere, interesting +him in some of the great horses and races he had seen. + +"I shall have a good try to win that two hundred on Saturday night," +said Ivor. + +"If you stick on for ten minutes you'll deserve it," replied Glen. "I'll +give you a bit of advice. If he throws you get out of the ring as quick +as you can, or he'll be on top of you before you know where you are." + +"He's not going to throw me," said the trainer confidently. + +Glen smiled. He had no wish to dishearten him, but he knew there was +little chance of his being successful. + +On Saturday night the building was crammed, every seat being taken. The +announcement that the well-known trainer, Ivor Hadwin, was going to +ride The Savage, and try to win the two hundred pounds, caused much +excitement. + +There were some good bouts before the event of the evening took place, +and when Ivor entered the ring he was loudly cheered. The trainer was +pleased with his reception. He had not received much of the world's +applause during his career. + +The way he mounted The Savage augured well for his success. The horse +appeared to know he had a man on his back who would give him "a good +game." For a moment The Savage stood still, then suddenly he sprang +straight into the air, all his feet off the ground, and his back arched. +Ivor had a severe wrench, but stuck to his seat. Round the ring the +horse went, backing and fighting in his most savage mood. + +Glen saw the horse was in a nasty temper and hoped the trainer would not +be hurt. That he would retain his seat for ten minutes he thought +impossible. + +Ivor Hadwin made no empty boast when he said at one time he believed he +rode as well as Glen Leigh. Considering the small amount of practice he +had his seat was splendid, and for five minutes The Savage tried in vain +to throw him. Glen, who was in the ring, encouraged him by frequent +shouts. + +Six minutes passed and still Hadwin was in the saddle, but Glen fancied +he saw signs that he was tiring. If this were so it was all up with his +chance. + +Again The Savage stood still, gathering his strength. His eyes rolled, +his nostrils were extended and red. Foam came from his mouth, but his +limbs were set, and there was no quivering. It was all determination, +and no excitement. + +Away he went again, round and round the ring, twisting and twirling, +leaping sideways, banging Hadwin against the posts. Then he went to the +centre of the ring, turned suddenly, galloped round at top speed. In a +moment he stopped dead and springing into the air gave a terrific buck, +squealing like a mad horse as he did so. + +The trainer was tired. The struggle had been tremendous, and the last +plunge proved too much for him. He was thrown clean out of the saddle, +and fell with a thud. Remembering Glen's warning to get out of the ring +as quickly as possible, he was scrambling to his feet, when The Savage +rushing at him, knocked him down, and trampled him with his forefeet. + +Glen Leigh sprang forward as soon as the trainer fell, and it was well +he did. He arrived just in the nick of time, before any more serious +injury than a few bruises was done. He seized The Savage by the bridle +and pulled him back, unconsciously showing his great strength; there was +a cheer as he held the brute in hand while the trainer left the ring. +Before The Savage had time to switch round Glen was in the saddle, and +another tussle took place, but it was an easy task for the rider this +time. The trainer had given the horse a severe dose, which had had due +effect. + +Glen dismounted and announced from the ring that a cheque for +twenty-five pounds would be handed Ivor Hadwin for the splendid way he +had handled The Savage; a roar of cheering greeted this generous offer. + +There was one woman in the vast audience who watched Glen Leigh all the +time he was in the ring. She was a dark, handsome, well dressed woman, +with fine eyes, a good figure, rather inclined to be stout, and she +evidently knew many people present. She had been several times, and had +always given her whole attention to Glen's performance with The Savage. +This alone appeared to interest her. + +She wished she knew him. She was about forty years of age, perhaps a +year or two older, and her life had been a peculiar one. She had married +at the age of eighteen, and her husband deserted her when she was +twenty. At this time she went as a barmaid in one of the numerous +private bars that then existed in Sydney. Some of these were veritable +dens of vice, but she kept herself respectable for several years. When +she was thirty she had saved sufficient money to take a small +boarding-house at North Shore. Shortly afterwards she was introduced to +Craig Bellshaw, and from North Shore she went to Macquarie Street; for +the last year she had lived at Manley. She did not like Bellshaw, but he +was useful to her and not ungenerous, and as he left her pretty much to +herself she was fairly contented. She was one of those women who, given +a better chance early in life, would probably have made good use of it. +She had plenty of confidence, boldness if you will, but she was not +vicious; her life was irreproachable, except for Bellshaw's coming into +it, and she lived quietly at Manley, with her maid, and a Chinaman cook, +who was a perfect marvel at concocting curious and succulent dishes. Her +name was Rosa Prevost, and her neighbours, although they did not quite +understand her, found her affable, generous and hospitable. In fact Mrs. +Prevost was popular in her surroundings. She knew Ivor Hadwin, through +Bellshaw, having been to the stables with him. If she wished to be +introduced to Glen Leigh the trainer would oblige her, but she did not +care to ask him; she was too proud. + +Her house at Manley was frequented by several well-known people such as +Jerry Makeshift, Tom Roslyn, and other journalists, and many actors and +actresses, several of whom knew her past life, and how she had been +treated in her young days. + +She was destined to have her desire for an introduction to Glen Leigh +fulfilled sooner than she expected. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +JEALOUSY + + +"Yes, I know Glen Leigh--a most interesting man," said Jerry Makeshift. + +He was at Sea View, Mrs. Prevost's house at Manley. She had invited him +there with the purpose to find out something about the daring rider of +The Savage. + +"Tell me about him. I admire his riding," she said. + +Jerry gave her a full account of Glen's career as far as he knew it. She +had read "The Sketch," but he embellished what he had written there for +her gratification. + +"So he was a keeper of the fence," she said thoughtfully. "Fancy a man +like that being exiled there. I wonder why he went?" + +"A woman probably," said Jerry. + +"That's always the way when a man banishes himself from society. It's +always a woman who is the cause," she said. + +"And don't you think nine times out of ten it is so?" he asked. + +"No, the man is often more to blame than the woman. Take my case." + +"Which is an exception," he said smiling. + +"Will you bring him here? I should like to meet him. Do you think he +would come?" + +"I'll try. He's not a shy man, but he doesn't go out much. Are you +anxious to know him?" asked Jerry. + +"He interests me," she answered. + +"Then I'll try and fix it up. Only promise me not to draw him into your +clutches; you are so fascinating. Look at me, I worship you." + +"Jerry, you're a humbug. You don't care a straw for anyone except +yourself," she laughed. + +"That's all you know. I have done some generous actions in my time, that +it won't do to speak about; it would sound too much like blowing my own +trumpet," he said. + +Jerry had some difficulty in inducing Glen Leigh to go to Manley, but +succeeded at last, and they went together. + +"Who is Mrs. Prevost?" asked Glen. + +Jerry explained as much as he thought proper. There was no occasion to +mention Bellshaw. If his name cropped up in conversation it would not be +his fault. + +Mrs. Prevost was agitated. She almost wished she had not asked Jerry to +bring him, and yet she was desirous of making Glen's acquaintance. +Already, before she knew him, he had a peculiar fascination for her. She +felt angry because it was so. The feeling was quite new and strange; +hitherto she had been cold and calculating. She knew all this would +vanish where Glen Leigh was concerned. + +They arrived before lunch, and when Glen saw Mrs. Prevost he was at once +struck with her peculiar charm of manner. No sooner was he in her +presence than all her doubts and agitation vanished, and she exerted +herself to her utmost to please him. + +Glen was quite willing to be pleased by this handsome woman, whose +preference for him was already beginning to be marked. + +Jerry smiled as he watched her. He knew her powers. No woman had ever +gone so near to capturing him as she, but he had steeled himself against +her. His career did not include a wife; he could not afford the luxury, +he said. + +It was a nice luncheon. Glen thoroughly enjoyed it, and complimented +Mrs. Prevost on the possession of such an excellent cook. + +"He's a Chinaman," she said smiling. "One of the despised heathens, but +I have had him several years, and he has served me well. I found him." + +"Found him!" exclaimed Glen. + +"Yes. It's quite correct; strange though it seems." + +"Where did you find him?" + +"Some years ago when he was quite young. He lived with his uncle in +Lower George Street. He offended the great man in some way, and he +turned him out of the house. He was wandering about when I came along. +He spoke to me, pleaded hard for me to make him my servant. Strange, +was it not? Something prompted me to take him in. I did, and have never +regretted it. He appears to have one set purpose in life, to pay his +uncle, Lin Soo, back in his own coin, and have his revenge. Most +unchristian-like isn't it? But of course he's a heathen," she said +laughing. + +"Lin Soo is his uncle!" said Glen. + +"Yes. Why? Do you know him?" + +"Not exactly, but I know of him. He keeps an infamous den in Lower +George Street." + +"I thought it was a tea shop," she said. + +"To outward appearances, but inside it's an opium den, a gambling hell, +and worse," Glen replied. + +"Worse!" she exclaimed enquiringly. + +Glen did not care to pursue the subject and she asked no further +questions. + +No mention was made of Craig Bellshaw, and Glen left, not knowing she +was intimate with the squatter. He promised to call again. She knew by +his ready acceptance that she had made a favourable impression, and she +was more pleased than she had been for many a day. She walked to the +steamer with them, and when the boat left sat down on a seat at one side +of the wharf. Why should she not have her share of happiness in life? It +had been denied her so far. There had been riotous living, and much +pleasure, but no peace, no contentment. It was all a struggle, and part +of a game which she had been forced to play, but never cared for. + +She walked slowly back to her house, thinking all the time, hoping, +wishing as she had never wished before. If a man like Glen Leigh had +come into her life years ago, how different everything would have been. +She felt she had great capacity for making a man she loved happy. She +was in the prime of life, good-looking, robust, full of health and +spirits, and she did not lack money. Why should she not find a fitting +mate? A man who would condone the past, forget, or shut his eyes to it, +and love her for herself. Glen Leigh was a man after her own heart, the +stamp of man she had always admired. No matter what he thought of her, +or whether they were merely acquaintances, she would never forget him. +She made a firm resolve to try and win him; she would exert all her +powers to that end. She craved for the real love of a man to meet the +love she knew she had to give. It would not be half-hearted love or cold +surrender. She wanted the real thing, not a sham. She had had too much +of shams; she was sick of them. She longed for honesty, not deception, +pretence, lies. There was Craig Bellshaw. He must be made to understand +that she desired to sever all connections with him. She would write and +tell him so. If he insisted on seeing her for a personal explanation she +supposed she must grant him an interview, but it would be the last; she +vowed it. + +Glen Leigh little knew the storm of feeling he had raised in Mrs. +Prevost. Had anyone told him he would have laughed at the idea. In +answer to Jerry he said he thought Mrs. Prevost a very nice woman. + +"Handsome, eh?" said Jerry. + +"Yes, and she's a jolly good sort I should say." + +"So she is. I wonder some fellow hasn't snapped her up long ago," Jerry +answered. + +"She's better as she is," said Glen. + +"Not she. In her case I should say she ought to have a mate. She looks a +woman who could make a man happy." + +"There's no telling," declared Glen gloomily. + +The Buckjumping Show was a huge success, and a large ground had been +taken for it in Melbourne for a month, during which time the Caulfield +and Melbourne Cups would be decided. + +Glen was surprised when his share was calculated by Bill Bigs. It was +far more than he had expected in his most sanguine moments. Jim Benny +was given a bonus with which he was more than contented. Nearly all +Jim's spare time was spent with Clara, who was in perfect health, and +had developed into a very pretty woman. Her mind, however, was still a +blank as regards everything before she came to Glen Leigh's hut. Glen +thought some sudden shock might restore the lost memories. At the same +time the effect might be serious. Probably it would be better for her +peace to remain as she was. Glen's feelings towards her were difficult +to analyse. He knew by the way she always greeted him that she regarded +him as a father. At first he thought he loved her, but gradually this +feeling lessened, and he knew it was pity and compassion that had grown +in him, not love. He was more solicitous towards her than he had ever +been, spoke kindly, looked after her every comfort, and she trusted and +idolised him--but not as a lover. + +With Jim it was different. He was younger than Glen, and there was no +doubt about his affection for her. She treated him differently from +Glen, was more reserved, never kissed him; she shrank away when he came +too near, and was nervous in his presence. + +Jim noticed all this and misunderstood. He thought her love was all for +Glen Leigh, and this embittered him. He had not the strength of +character of the elder man, could not stand trials so well, was soon +cast down and dispirited. He had seen her kiss Glen when they met--she +always did--and yet when he came near her she shrank away. + +Glen seemed to get the best out of life, while he, Jim, had hardly +anything to look forward to. + +He forgot what Glen had done for him. A growing jealousy rose against +his comrade; such feelings were easily roused in him. + +"I must know what he means, what she means," said Jim to himself. "It's +torturing me. I can't stand it--I won't." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +A QUESTION OF JOCKEYS + + +Craig Bellshaw's life at Mintaro was a burden to him; if his time had +not been occupied there is no telling what might have happened. During +the day he was constantly out of doors, but at night, his lonely dinner +ended, he sat down and brooded. There were many actions in his life that +would not bear the searchlight. He did not regret them; he was hardened. +What he missed was the presence of a woman. It could not be called +companionship, because he never gave his friendship fully to anyone. It +would soon be time for him to go to Sydney and see his horses do their +work for the big Victorian Meeting. He had great hopes of Barellan +winning the Melbourne Cup, and thought Flash had a chance in the +Caulfield Race. He heard from his trainer regularly, and the reports +were favourable. Letters for Mintaro were left at Boonara by the mail +coach which came twice a week. + +He read the account of the buckjumping exhibition, and begrudged Bill +Bigs and Glen Leigh their success. They were his horses; why had he not +thought of such a show and run it himself? He always begrudged fortune's +favours to others. + +He had been uneasy ever since he found the piece of paper with Lin Soo +written on it pushed under his door. He tried to persuade himself it +meant nothing, but he knew different. It was a warning and he wondered +how much Glen Leigh knew. Then there was Garry Backham. He must see him +before he went to Sydney and find out how the land lay in that quarter. + +His man brought the post-bag and placed it on the table. Craig unlocked +it and took out the letters and papers. He opened one from Ivor Hadwin, +who gave favourable accounts of the progress of all his horses, and +prophesied a successful campaign in Victoria. Barellan was specially +mentioned. No horse could be doing better; he had come on by leaps and +bounds and was at least ten pounds better than when he ran at Randwick. + +"If he is he'll win the Cup," said Craig. + +He placed the letter on one side to answer; the post-bag had to be at +Boonara next day. There were several bills, some circulars, newspapers, +and one or two packages. A letter, directed in a lady's hand, claimed +his attention. He knew the writing; it was from Mrs. Prevost. + +"She wants more money, I suppose," he muttered. "She'll have to want. +I've been too openhanded with her, and she's not a bit grateful. Women +never are." + +As he read the letter his face became gloomy: it was not pleasant to +look at. The contents angered him. She expressed her intention of +severing all connection with him, said she had no desire to see him +again, and much more to the same effect. + +Craig Bellshaw was in a rage. He considered Mrs. Prevost a useful +adjunct to his visits to Sydney. There was always a house to go to, +where he could be sure of comfort, and the presence of a woman who was +good to look upon; and now she coolly said she had no desire to see him +again. There were no words of apology or respect. She repudiated the +bargain, or what he considered the bargain, between them. There must be +some solid reason for it, and the only one he could think of was another +man. She would find he was not to be treated in this cavalier fashion. +Some men might stand it; he would not. + +He made up his mind to go to Sydney at once. There were plenty of hands +at Mintaro, and his new overseer would look to things. He announced his +intention of going next day. + +He started in the early morning, arriving at Boonara about eleven +o'clock; from there he would take the coach to Bourke. He went to Garry +Backham's, and asked him if there was anything he could do for him in +Sydney. + +"He's mighty polite," thought Garry, "there's some mischief afoot." + +They talked for some time, and Craig said. "About the money I lent you +to buy this place, I've thought it over; you're welcome to it. You were +always reliable when you were with me and did your work well." + +"He's changed his tune," thought Garry. + +"You can consider yourself free of that debt," said Craig. + +"I thought you'd come round to my way of thinking," replied Garry, who +knew well enough why he had suddenly become generous. + +"It was always my intention to make you a present of it," Craig +declared. + +"Then why didn't you do it at first?" + +"Because I wished to see what sort of man you were, and how you'd take +it." + +"Glen Leigh and Bill Bigs have done well in Sydney with the show," said +Garry. + +"It's lucky they got some of my horses. He seems to have picked out the +right sort." + +"Trust him for that. The fellow they call The Savage is a ripper. He's +by old Tear'em, I'll swear. I never saw such a brute, but Leigh mastered +him as soon as he was yarded." + +"Everybody seems to think he's a wonderful man," said Craig. + +"So he is. They're few and far between," answered Garry. "I see your +horses are doing good work for the Cups. Do you fancy them?" + +"Barellan and Flash both have chances." + +"I've got a couple of tickets in the sweep on the Melbourne Cup," said +Garry. + +"If you draw Barellan I shall expect you to stump up a good round sum +out of your lot," Bellshaw told him. + +"You'll get nothing out of me if I draw him, but it's about a million to +one I don't," retorted Garry. + +"Whoever draws him will have to give me a cut out of the sweep or +they'll stand a poor chance of getting a run for their money," said +Craig. + +"You don't mean to say you'd scratch Barellan for a race like the +Melbourne Cup merely because you were not offered anything out of the +sweep?" Garry asked. + +"I would. No man shall get the better of me. It's only fair. I have all +the expense incurred over the horse." + +"Then you're not much of a sportsman." + +"Just as good as anyone else," returned Craig. + +"Well, if I happen to draw him you can scratch him. You'll not get me to +lay you anything," said Garry. + +When Bellshaw arrived in Sydney he went to Hadwin's house at Randwick, +where there was always a room for him. The trainer would have preferred +his staying elsewhere, but could raise no objections. The horses pleased +him, Barellan especially. He seemed in rare fettle, and the trainer said +no horse could possibly have done better. + +"You'll have to look out for a jockey soon, or they'll all be snapped +up. There is likely to be a big field, thirty runners or thereabouts," +said Ivor. + +"What about Nicholl?" + +"He'd be all right if you could get him." + +"Is he engaged?" + +"Not that I know of." + +"Then what's to prevent me engaging him?" + +Hadwin hesitated, then said, "He'll want a big fee." + +"And can't I pay it?" thundered Bellshaw. + +"You can pay it. The question is will you?" said the trainer. + +"If it's reasonable. What will he want?" + +"A hundred at least." + +"Then he'll not get it. I'm not going to pay any jockey a hundred, win +or lose. If Barellan wins it's a different matter." + +"Shall I see him about it or will you?" asked Ivor. + +"You'd better see him. If he asked me that figure there's no telling +what I'd say to him," Bellshaw answered. + +Hadwin saw Nicholl on the training ground next morning. Bellshaw was +there, standing some distance away. + +"Will you ride Barellan in the Melbourne Cup?" asked Ivor. + +"What sort of a chance has he?" + +"A winning chance. You can have the leg up on him this morning; he's +just coming out." + +"All right," agreed Nicholl. + +"Then come with me," said the trainer. + +When Barellan came out with Nicholl up there was a stir among the +watchers. Luke Nicholl was one of the best jockeys. There were few to +equal him, and it was known he had not a mount in the Cup, as he +declined to tie himself down. His appearance on Barellan at once set +tongues wagging as to the possibility of his riding the horse in the +Cup. Nicholl liked the way Barellan moved. He knew he was a good game +animal, and 8st. 7lb. was a nice weight. He could do it comfortably. + +"He moves well," said Nicholl, when he dismounted. + +"You'll find him a far different horse in a race. He's not a track +horse," said Ivor. "Will you accept the mount?" + +"It all depends." + +"What on?" + +"The amount to be paid me." + +"What do you want?" + +"A couple of hundred." + +"Win or lose?" + +"Yes." + +"He'll never give that. I doubt if he'll give a hundred, but come over +to my place and talk it over. I'd like you to be on him, Luke, because I +think he'll just about win," said the trainer. + +"You can't expect me to ride him without I get a good fee," answered +Nicholl. "I'm worth it, eh?" + +"You are, and if I had the arranging of it I'd give you fair terms. +You'll just suit Barellan; he wants a lot of riding. He's a lazy beggar, +and you know how to handle such horses." + +"When shall I come over?" + +"After breakfast." + +"I'll be there soon after nine," said Nicholl, "but you can tell him I +must have my price. I've not worked my way to the top of the ladder +without trouble, and I mean to get what I'm worth." + +"I'll do my best, but don't be hasty over it, or you'll regret it," +replied Ivor. + +Something in the trainer's earnest manner appealed to the jockey. + +"We've always been friends," he said. "I'd like to ride a big winner for +you." + +"Then ride Barellan. He's one of the best horses I ever saw," said the +trainer. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +MRS. PREVOST'S DILEMMA + + +There was a tough skirmish when Nicholl met Craig Bellshaw at Hadwin's, +but eventually the owner of Barellan gave way, mainly owing to his +trainer's representations and persuasion, and settled with the jockey to +ride both his horses, Flash at Caulfield, and Barellan at Flemington, +for two hundred, win or lose, five per cent. on the stakes, and five per +cent. on any sweep money that might be forthcoming. Having fixed this +up, with a good deal of grumbling, Bellshaw set out for Manley to see +Mrs. Prevost, who was not aware he was in Sydney. + +Bellshaw was in a bad temper. Things were all awry, and even the thought +of winning the Melbourne Cup with Barellan did not soothe him. It was a +disagreeable surprise to Mrs. Prevost when she heard who her visitor +was. + +Bellshaw made no bones about the matter. He asked her what she meant by +writing him such a letter after all he had done for her; he upbraided +her in no measured terms, used harsh names, and behaved somewhat +brutally. It was his way with women. + +She resented his conduct and replied forcibly. He saw she was +determined, and this angered him still more. There was a scene, they +lost their tempers, and mutual recriminations were the result. Mrs. +Prevost was expecting Glen Leigh for lunch and wished to get rid of +Bellshaw before he arrived. She dreaded their meeting, not on his +account, but for the effect it might have on Leigh, and her influence +with him. Bellshaw, however, did not seem in any hurry to go. He was +loth to give her up; in his way he liked her. + +"The fact is," he said, "you've taken up with someone else. I warn you +he shall know all about you." + +"You are cad enough to do that?" she asked. + +"You can call me names if you wish; I don't care, but I'll make it +mighty unpleasant for you," he said. + +There was a ring at the front door. Mrs. Prevost was at her wits' end +how to act. It was no doubt Glen Leigh. + +She left the room hurriedly, and opened the door herself. It was Glen +Leigh. She took him into the front room, and said her maid had just gone +out; she promised to return in a few minutes, and left him. + +Glen thought this strange. She was agitated; something must have upset +her. He wondered what it was. + +Craig Bellshaw also wondered why she had gone out of the room. He heard +her open the door, and someone come in. Who was it? The voice sounded +like a man's. + +She gave him a hint that he had better be going. + +"Not until I have seen who your visitor is," he said. + +"If I have a visitor it is no business of yours," she retorted. + +"It is. I am still interested in you even if you treat me badly," he +said. + +What was she to do? How could she prevent a meeting between him and Glen +Leigh? She cudgelled her brains but was at a loss to find a plan. +Bellshaw did not seem inclined to move. + +Glen Leigh waited a quarter of an hour and became restless. What +detained her? He heard voices in the next room, but could not +distinguish who was speaking. Perhaps she had a visitor. If so, why did +she not tell him? + +"I must ask you to leave my house," she said desperately. + +Bellshaw laughed. + +"Your house?" he sneered. + +"Yes, mine. You did not know I had bought it." + +"Have you paid for it?" + +"I have, if that's any consolation to you." + +"And you wish me to believe that? I wonder where you got the money +from?" + +"It was my money. I am not without means," she answered indignantly. + +He laughed as he got up, but there was an evil look in his eyes. + +"I'll go. I don't wish to interfere with your pleasures, or any +conquests you may make, but I've not done with you, I promise you that," +said Bellshaw. + +He took up his hat and opened the door. She followed him. Would he go +into the front room? + +Her heart beat fast. She felt faint. It was a trying moment. + +Glen Leigh might see him leave the house, but he would not know who he +was; if Bellshaw saw him there was no telling what might happen. + +Bellshaw passed the door of the room, opened the front door, and walked +away without saying another word, or even raising his hat. It was a +tremendous relief now he was gone; she waited a few minutes to regain +her composure, and then with a faint smile, entered the front room. + +Glen Leigh was looking out of the window; he recognised Craig Bellshaw +and was so astonished he did not hear her open the door. Scores of +questions crowded into his mind as he saw the owner of Mintaro walking +away; the main questions were how came he to Mrs. Prevost's, and for +what purpose? + +She saw Glen with his back turned to her, and knew he had seen her +visitor; she was not aware Leigh knew him, and of his doings elsewhere +of which she was in ignorance; she had, as yet, no conception of the +depths of infamy to which Bellshaw had sunk. + +"I am sorry to keep you waiting so long, but I had a visitor," she said. + +"I saw him leave the house," said Glen, turning sharply round. + +"He's an old friend; I have known him many years." She could not make +him out. He was looking at her steadily; his eyes seemed to pierce her. + +"I know him," said Glen quietly. "I did not expect to see him in _your_ +house." + +"You know him!" she exclaimed aghast, the colour deserting her cheeks. + +"Yes. Do you know him well?" he asked. + +"Yes, but why do you ask in such a strange way?" + +"I do not think you know what Craig Bellshaw really is. I am sure you do +not. If you did he would never have been admitted to your house," said +Glen. + +What was she about to hear? She must learn more; how was she to excuse +herself to him? What if he and Bellshaw met? There would be revelations, +her backsliding would be magnified a hundred times; she must have the +first say no matter what it cost her. + +"What is he?" she asked. + +"A bad man, almost a murderer. I dare not tell you what has happened at +Mintaro. You would be overwhelmed with shame to think you ever had +dealings with, or ever took the hand of such a man," said Glen +seriously. + +She looked very charming in her distress. Even Glen Leigh would have +been very dense had he failed to see the appeal in her eyes, or to +recognise that she liked him very much indeed. + +No woman had ever appealed to him quite in the same way as Mrs. +Prevost; he had thought a good deal about her since he saw her last. + +"Tell me about him," she said. + +"What was he doing here?" asked Glen who doubted everything where Craig +Bellshaw was concerned. + +"He came to see me, not at my request, but I was not surprised. I had +written to him at Mintaro telling him--" she hesitated. + +Glen waited. Should he help her out? He thought he could. Rage was +surging up in him, not against Mrs. Prevost, but against Bellshaw. Was +she another of his victims? + +That was hardly possible; yet there were unmistakable signs of acute +distress at the situation in which she was placed. As Glen thought, a +sudden wave of feeling overwhelmed him, and would not be beaten back. He +loved this woman. By some strange fatality Bellshaw was connected with +her as he had been with the other woman. He felt a mad desire to rush +after Bellshaw and kill him. This passed in a few seconds; then he said, +in answer to her hesitation, "Telling him you never wished to see him +again." + +She looked at him in great surprise, feeling intense relief. This man +understood her, because he knew Craig Bellshaw for what he was. Already +he had forgiven her without the asking. He did not blame her, but the +man. In that case he guessed some of the truth and the rich blood +crimsoned her cheeks. She bowed her head; then she looked straight at +him and said, "That is what I wrote him--that I never wished to see him +again. I ordered him to leave the house, my house, when you saw him go. +I will never admit him again." + +"I am glad of that," said Glen. "Very glad. When did you write to him?" + +It was the truth she would tell him. + +"The day after you came here with Jerry," she said. + +Glen smiled. + +"What decided you to write?" he asked. + +"You did." + +Again he smiled. + +"I wonder how that happened?" he said. + +"Can't you guess?" she answered in a low voice. + +"No, at least not yet. Later on I'll try--with your permission." + +"You have it now. I want a friend--like you." + +"You don't think he'd dare to come here again?" asked Glen savagely. + +"There is no telling what he might do. Try and avoid him." + +"Why should I?" + +"He's a dangerous man." + +Glen laughed. + +"I'm more than a match for him in many ways," he replied. + +After lunch she asked him to tell her about Craig Bellshaw. + +"I will tell you one terrible thing which I believe to be quite true," +he said. "I am waiting to find out. It is a matter of time, and you must +promise not to repeat what I tell you." + +She readily gave her promise and he told her in a graphic narrative all +about the woman who came to his hut, what happened there, and since her +recovery. He concealed nothing, not even about Lin Soo. He thought, in +justice, she ought to know what manner of man Craig Bellshaw was. + +As she listened, horrified, believing every word, she felt deeply +humiliated when she thought what Bellshaw had been in her life; she +shuddered with repulsion. + +"Bring her here," she said. "Let her be my companion. I may be able to +call back her lost memories. I will love her for all she has suffered. +You will trust her with me, will you not?" + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE DRAWER OF BARELLAN + + +They decided to allow Clara to go to Mrs. Prevost's, and Glen took her +there. She was given a kindly welcome. Mrs. Prevost was glad to have +her, liked her at once. The feeling was mutual. Glen felt he had left +her in good hands, that she would be happy and comfortable. + +"Don't let Bellshaw see her if by any chance he calls," said Glen, "but +he will be going to Melbourne for the Cup meetings, and our show leaves +to-morrow. I shall not see you again for several weeks." + +"I shall look forward to your return. I hope you will do well there," +she answered. + +"I think we shall. There is no reason why we should not do even better +than in Sydney." + +As Glen was leaving, having bid good-bye to Clara, he said, "On my +return I may have something to tell you; something which I hope will be +for our happiness." + +She smiled brightly, guessing what he meant. There was a prospect of +sailing into a peaceful harbour after a stormy life. Glen Leigh was +indeed a man. He had not even questioned her about the past, or her +relations with Bellshaw. + +The horses, and all the paraphernalia of the show, went to Melbourne by +steamer, Glen and Jim going with them. During the short voyage Glen +thought Jim taciturn and ill-tempered. He asked him the cause. + +"I'm sick of life," said Jim, "I never seem to get anything out of it. +You and Bill have all the luck." + +"I don't think you've done so badly," objected Glen, "and now you have a +share in the show. What more do you want?" + +"A good deal more. I want happiness, and I don't seem in the way of +getting it." + +"Why not? What troubles you? Tell me, lad; I may be able to help you." + +Then, as they sat on deck, Jim poured out the vials of his ill-tempered +wrath on Glen's head. He told how he loved Clara, but that she avoided, +shunned him. He complained that it was very hard lines he, Glen, should +come between them. For a long time he went on grumbling, and Glen +listened to him patiently not saying a word. He let him exhaust himself +before he made any reply. + +"Jim, you're a fool," said Glen. "When she first came across my path and +found her way to my hut, as I sat and nursed her back to life, you +helping me, I thought I loved her. I was sure of it. That same feeling +possessed me when we came to Sydney. It remained with me until something +happened which opened my eyes, something totally unexpected. She put her +arms round my neck and kissed me." + +"I know," said Jim. "I know. She always does. She loves you." + +Glen smiled as he said, "You're a bit shallow, Jim. You can't see far. I +knew when she kissed me she would never love me like that, so I gave it +up. She regarded me as a father, that was all, and I'm quite contented +she should. I've found out the feeling I had for her was not that of a +lover. I love her, I always shall, because I rescued her from death. +It's only natural. You've no need to fear me as a rival. I love another +woman, not her." + +Jim's face brightened. He knew Glen spoke the truth; he always did. It +clouded again as he thought how she avoided him. + +"The reason she doesn't kiss you," said Glen, "is because she feels +different towards you. She doesn't think it would be right. I've watched +her, and I think if she does not love you now she will in days to come. +She'll miss you when you are away from her in Melbourne. Probably she'll +talk to Mrs. Prevost about you. Wait till you come back and then see how +the land lies. She's not fit to marry yet, not strong enough. It will be +better to wait until she recovers her memory." + +"She may never recover it," said Jim. + +"She will, I'm sure of it, and through Mrs. Prevost, who will help her. +She's a sympathetic woman, and I told her all about it, everything. +She'll do all in her power to bring back her lost memory; she said she +would," Glen answered. + +After this conversation Jim was a different man. + +All along he had been jealous of Glen; now the cause was removed. +Sometimes he gave a thought to Joe Calder, but he felt no regret for +what he had done; the man had brought it on himself. + +"If I hadn't shot him he'd have done for me," said Jim to himself. + +The show arrived safely in Melbourne, and opened in a large tent on the +St. Kilda Road. Crowds flocked to it, and before the first week was over +Glen knew they were in for an even better season than in Sydney. They +started business the Saturday before the Caulfield Cup. The tent was +packed every night, and sometimes twice a day. + +Ivor Hadwin arrived at Caulfield with his horses, Barellan, Flash, and a +couple of others. + +Betting on the two Cups was brisk, and Barellan was well backed by the +public at a hundred to eight. + +Bellshaw had been laid a fair sum to nothing by the drawer of Flash in +the Caulfield Cup Sweep. + +The first Hundred Thousand Pound Sweep on the Melbourne Cup was to be +drawn in Sydney on Monday night. + +When Glen Leigh was informed he laughed, and said, "I don't set much +account on it. A fellow can't expect to get anything with one ticket in +a hundred thousand." + +There was a tremendous race for the Caulfield Cup, and Flash ran third, +being beaten by Roland and Mackay. + +Flash ran a remarkably fast race. Ivor Hadwin hardly thought him good +enough to win and he died away a furlong from the post. Knowing what +Barellan could do with Flash on the track, the trainer told Nicholl he +thought the Melbourne Cup was pretty nearly as good as won. + +The result of the drawing for the Hundred Thousand Pound Sweep on the +Melbourne Cup was made public on the Wednesday. Glen Leigh received a +wire from Bill Bigs which fairly astonished him. + +"You have drawn Barellan. Good luck, Bill." + +This was astounding news indeed. He had only one ticket in the sweep, +number 33444, and it had drawn Barellan, third favourite for the great +race. Was there ever such a stroke of luck! Glen could hardly believe in +his good fortune. Barellan was Bellshaw's horse which made it more +remarkable still. All his friends connected with the show crowded round +congratulating him. He was regarded as a kind of hero. The first prize +was close upon twenty-five thousand pounds, and there were numerous +other large and small sums to be divided. He was bound to get one of the +first three big prizes with such a horse as Barellan running for him, so +said everybody who knew him. + +Ivor Hadwin heard the news with mixed feelings; he was glad Leigh had +drawn the horse, but wondered what would happen if he declined to give +Craig Bellshaw a cut out of the sweep money. It was impossible to keep +the fact that Leigh had drawn Barellan a secret, nor had he any wish it +should be so. + +"I've drawn the horse; where's the harm in people knowing it?" said +Glen. + +Bill Bigs arrived in Melbourne, and consulted with Glen as to what was +best to be done. + +Bill advised him to lay some of it against Barellan. He could stand to +win a large sum to nothing, and if the horse lost he would also be a +winner. Glen, however, was adamant on this point. He declared he would +not lay off a penny; he'd stand the thing right out. + +"It's only cost me a pound," he said. "That's not much, and I'd sooner +go the whole hog and win the lot, if Barellan wins. If he loses I shall +not grumble." + +"Please yourself," said Bill. "From all I hear you stand a good chance +of pulling it off at the first time of asking. It's an extraordinary +piece of luck, that's what it is. I know fellows who have been going in +for sweeps for years and have never drawn a horse. I've been doing it +for a dozen years, and all I ever got was a non-starter." + +"You shall have a couple of hundred if Barellan wins," said Glen. "So +shall Jim, and I'll see Hadwin and Nicholl have a trifle." + +"You're distributing the cash before you've won," laughed Bill. + +"Half the fun of things is to anticipate, and plan out what you'll do +with the money," Glen laughed back. + +"So it is. I've drawn some nice little pictures myself, but they've +always been rubbed out, not so much as a daub remaining," said Bill. + +When Glen met Hadwin, the trainer asked, "I suppose you've not heard +from Bellshaw?" + +"No. What do I want to hear from him for?" replied Glen. + +Hadwin smiled. + +"You've not had much experience of sweeps. Owners generally expect a +good slice out of them," he said. + +"If Bellshaw expects to get me to lay him a big slice he's mistaken. I +shan't lay him a penny," replied Glen determinedly. + +"For goodness' sake don't say that," expostulated Hadwin in genuine +alarm. + +"Why not? I mean it." + +"It will ruin me, Leigh, ruin me. I've backed Barellan for all I'm +worth, or nearly so," said the trainer. + +"Well, my drawing him in the sweep won't stop him winning." + +"No, I don't mean that. I think he will win, but if you don't lay +Bellshaw a fair sum, there's no telling what he'll do." + +"What can he do?" asked Glen, surprised. + +"Scratch him," said Hadwin in a low tremulous voice. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +LAME + + +Craig Bellshaw soon heard who was the drawer of Barellan in the great +Melbourne Cup Sweep. Glen Leigh held the ticket. He smiled wickedly. He +had found out that Glen had been a welcome visitor at Mrs. Prevost's. So +this was the man who had supplanted him. He wished him joy of his +bargain; he'd find it pretty expensive. No doubt it was Leigh who called +when he, Bellshaw, was ordered out of the house. If he had only known he +would have enlightened him there and then; he intended doing so at the +first favourable opportunity. He'd make it particularly hot and sultry +for Mrs. Prevost, put a spoke in her wheel that even Glen Leigh would +not care to try and pull out. A keeper of the fence, a common showman, a +rider of buckjumpers, to be ousted by such a man--it made Craig +Bellshaw writhe. He did not call at Sea View before he left for +Melbourne; there was time enough. He'd put in an appearance when he had +fairly choked Leigh off, made him sick of the whole business. He hated +him, he hated Mrs. Prevost for throwing him over, and he vowed vengeance +against them. Leigh had thwarted him in many ways when he had been on +the fence. Bellshaw recalled how on one occasion he had given him the +lie direct at a meeting held at Boonara, and had proved his statement up +to the hilt. This had lessened the owner of Mintaro's prestige +considerably, and he had not forgiven it. + +Glen Leigh had drawn Barellan. Bellshaw chuckled, a curious gurgling +sound, more like the growling of a dog. This decided him. He had +returned to Sydney after the Caulfield Cup; he didn't care for +Melbourne. He took train back again as soon as he heard who had drawn +Barellan in the sweep. + +He always stayed at Scott's. He walked there from Spencer Street +Station, along Collins Street. + +"Hallo, Bellshaw, back again?" + +It was Nick Gerard who, for a wonder, was in that part of the town. + +"You, Nick. What's the news?" + +"I expect you know it all; you're never much behind the times where your +interests are concerned. By Gad, perhaps you don't know; it only +happened this morning. When did you arrive?" + +"I've just come in by the express. What's up?" + +"Your horse, Barellan." + +"Well?" + +"He went lame on the track at Flemington this morning, limped away +badly, and it's the week before the race. He'll not have much time to +pull round. I'm sorry for you. It's deuced bad luck, but you can stand +it. I'm more sorry for that chap, Glen Leigh, who drew him in the sweep. +It's rough on him. I like him; he's the best roughrider I ever saw. I'm +open to bet there isn't a bucker in Australia can get rid of him in a +quarter of an hour. I told him I'd bet a level thousand, two thousand +if anybody wanted it, and give him half if he won," said Nick. + +"My horse lame!" exclaimed Bellshaw, ignoring the latter part of Nick's +remarks. + +"Dead lame, from all accounts. I didn't see him, but I met Luke Nicholl +in Bourke Street, and he told me. He was on his back, so he ought to +know," said the bookmaker. + +"Damn him! He'd no right to say anything about it, especially to a +bookmaker," cried Bellshaw angrily. + +"And pray why not? What have I done? The fact will be in all the evening +papers. Most men I met at the Club were talking about it." + +"Were they? It's a den of thieves," almost shouted Bellshaw, in his +anger. + +"You're talking rot," said Nick, who knew his man. He also had a fairly +thick skin, and such remarks failed to penetrate it. "Have you been +playing 'solo' all the way from Sydney and losing, or what's ruffled +you?" + +"I never play 'solo' or hazards," sneered Bellshaw. + +"Well, I do, and I'm considered a fairly good hand at the former. As to +hazards, I'll not say much about that. I'm out on the green cloth, out a +biggish sum, but I can't leave off. It's in my blood. I must throw the +dice sometimes," said Nick. + +"More fool you. Where are you going?" + +"To the Federal." + +Bellshaw smiled grimly. + +"What have you got there? Is she nice? bewitching? or just an ordinary +filly?" he asked. + +"It's a man, a dashed clever fellow, but he's one failing, and it's got +fairly hold of him since he's been in Melbourne this time. I've known +him come here and never touch a drop the whole blessed time, but he's +been knocked out this trip. I'd like to find out the beggar who led him +on. I'd give him a piece of my mind," said Nick hotly. + +"Haven't you enough to do without wasting your time over a boozer?" + +"He's always been a friend of mine; he's done all his expenses in, and +hasn't a bean. I mean to see him through, if he'll promise to keep +straight until the meeting's over." + +"And do you suppose he will?" sneered Bellshaw. + +"Yes, if he gives me his word," replied Nick. + +"You're blessed with an uncommon amount of faith," said Bellshaw. + +"And you've got none, not even in yourself. If you'd any pluck you'd not +squeal because Barellan's gone lame. He may pull round. Hadwin's a +clever man with dicky horses." + +"He's an ass or he'd not have galloped the horse to a standstill. I told +him he was giving him too much work." + +"I'm more sorry for him than you," said the bookmaker. + +Bellshaw laughed cynically, ignored the remark and asked, "Who's your +sick friend at the Federal?" + +"Jerry Makeshift, of 'The Sketch,' one of the best, the very best, a +jewel with only one flaw in it." + +"A gem of the first water, with whiskey in it," jeered Bellshaw. + +"And supposing he is? That's better than being a grinding, snarling, +miserable money-grubber," retorted Nick. + +"Who's in a bad temper now?" asked Bellshaw. + +"You're enough to rile a parson," said Nick. + +"I never tried. I don't know much about 'em. I haven't got a chaplain at +Mintaro." + +"By all accounts you ought to have." + +"What for?" + +"To marry you," said Nick laughing. + +Bellshaw swore and left him. Nick looked after him. + +"He's a rotter if ever there was one, but he's been straight with me so +far, and he'd better continue to walk the line. The first time he steps +off it I'll push him right down," he thought, then went into the +Federal. + +"Is Mr. Makeshift in?" he asked the young lady presiding over the entry +book in the desk, on the right hand side near the door. + +"Oh, it's you, Mr. Gerard. Yes, he's in. He's been asking for you," and +she told him where to find him. + +Nick ascended the stairs, knocked at the door. + +"Come in," said a thick voice. + +Nick entered and found Jerry struggling with a sketch. + +"I don't feel a bit humorous," said Jerry. + +"You're a pretty specimen," began Nick. + +"Look here, Old Nick, if you've come here to upbraid me I don't want to +see you. What I want is ten pounds to see me through." + +Nick laughed. + +"I'll let you have it if you promise to keep all right." + +"Snakes alive. You don't suppose I want to be sacked, do you?" exclaimed +Jerry. + +"I'd be sorry if you were, so would thousands of people. We'd all miss +you, Jerry. 'The Sketch' wouldn't be the same paper," answered Nick. + +"That's awfully good of you," said the repentant Jerry. "It means a lot +to me. I'll not go back on you, Nick, I promise you, and you shall have +some good stuff to amuse you next week." + +"That's right, old boy. Buck up. Here's the cash. Have you heard the +latest?" + +"I haven't been out for days." + +"Barellan's lame; Nicholl told me this morning. I've just met Bellshaw. +He's in a towering rage, cursing everybody, and everything. He can +handle some language when he likes. He's a heavyweight at it," said +Nick. + +"Bellshaw's a beast," replied Jerry. "I'm not sorry for him, but I am +for Leigh and Hadwin." + +"So am I, and I told him so," said Nick. + +"What'll happen?" asked Jerry. + +"I suppose he'll scratch him if there's no chance of getting him to the +post." + +"Lame horses have gone to the post and won a Melbourne Cup," said Jerry. + +"I'd sooner have one with four legs sound." + +"I say, Nick?" + +"Yes." + +"What do you fancy?" + +"If Barellan gets right I think he'll win." + +"And if not?" + +"Roland." + +"The Caulfield Cup winner?" + +"Yes. He's a good horse--better than folks imagine." + +"But his penalty?" + +"He's a weight carrier. His trainer says he'd a stone in hand at +Caulfield." + +"That settles it," said Jerry. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +SWEEP MONEY + + +After the Caulfield Cup, Hadwin took the horses to Flemington, where +they were boxed at the top of the hill, at the Racecourse Hotel, where +many good horses have had their quarters. + +Thither Bellshaw went, when he had been to Scott's, and cleansed himself +from the grime that accumulated coming from Albury to Melbourne. He was +not popular at the hotel. His generosity was of the miserly kind, and +everybody knew it. Still he was the owner of Barellan, the sensational +horse of the hour, and people wondered if it would be a case of another +Assassin, who was reported lame, and won easily. + +The head waiter said, "It's just up to Bellshaw to plant a lame 'un on +us, and then for the horse to come up smiling and win." + +When Bellshaw arrived at the Racecourse Hotel he at once saw Hadwin, and +there was a stormy scene. + +"I told you he'd break down if you gave him such strong work," said +Bellshaw. + +"He hasn't broken down," retorted the trainer. + +"Gerard told me he's dead lame." + +"That's different to breaking down. He's not dead lame." + +"Then what's the matter with him?" + +"Limped when he pulled up, that's all." + +"Isn't that enough the week before the race?" growled Bellshaw. + +"It would be under certain circumstances, but it's not serious." + +"You think he'll be fit to run?" + +The trainer laughed. + +"Of course he will. Who put that silly idea into your head?" + +"Let's look at him." + +They walked down the yard to Barellan's box. + +"Bring him out," said Bellshaw. + +Hadwin called the head lad and the horse was led out. He limped +slightly. His near fore-leg was swollen. + +"It doesn't look hopeless," said Bellshaw. + +"It isn't. He'll be all right in a couple of days, and he's as fit as he +can be. The rest will not do him any harm." + +"I haven't seen Leigh yet," said Bellshaw. + +"You'll have no difficulty in finding him." + +"He'll have to come down handsomely over the sweep money." + +"I don't think he will. I shouldn't be surprised if he declines to lay +you at all." + +"He'll do it. If he doesn't I'll scratch Barellan." + +"You dare not. There would be a terrible outcry against you." + +"What do I care? He's my horse; I can do as I like with him." + +"If you scratch him you'll throw the Cup away." + +"You're confident. What makes you so sanguine?" + +"I know what he can do, and after Flash's running in the Caulfield Cup +it is a good thing," returned the trainer. + +"Don't say anything about the lameness being slight," said Bellshaw. +"You're sure to have someone rooting round for information." + +"Very well," said Hadwin, who intended doing as he thought fit. + +At night Bellshaw went to the Show and saw Glen Leigh ride The Savage. +He admired his skill; he could not help it. + +After the performance he went round to see Glen Leigh and had a cool +reception. + +"I've come about the Sweep," he said. "You've drawn my horse." + +"He's lame," answered Glen. "Just my luck. Will he run?" + +"It all depends." + +"Depends whether he's got over it by Tuesday?" said Glen. + +"It depends on you." + +"What have I got to do with it?" + +"A good deal. You've drawn Barellan in the Sweep, and I expect a cut out +of it." + +"Do you, and how much do you expect?" + +"Half of what you draw. That's fair." + +Glen laughed as he said, "You don't want much. You'd better have the +lot." + +"It's a fair proposition," said Bellshaw. + +"I drew Barellan and I shall stick to anything I get out of it," Glen +replied. + +"You mean you will give me nothing out of the Sweep?" + +"Not a farthing," snapped Glen. + +"Then do you know what I shall do?" + +"No." + +"I shall scratch him." + +"A nice sportsmanlike proceeding that would be," said Glen. + +"I don't run my horse for your benefit, or the benefit of the public." + +"So I always understood," answered Glen. + +"Consider it over. If you do not make me a fair offer by Saturday I'll +strike him out on Monday." + +"I don't think you will," said Glen, in a mildly irritating way. + +"But I shall." + +"Again I repeat I don't think you will." + +"Why not?" + +"Because I can advance some weighty reasons against your doing so." + +"To which I shall not listen," said Bellshaw. + +"To which I am certain you will listen, and, having heard them, will +fall in with my views." + +Bellshaw was fast losing his temper. He had no idea what Leigh was +driving at. + +"I tell you again if you don't come down handsomely with the sweep money +I'll strike him out." + +"And I say you will not," retorted Glen. + +Gerard came round to see Glen Leigh. Jerry Makeshift, and Tom Roslyn +were with him. + +"How's your horse?" Tom asked Bellshaw. + +"Lame," snapped the owner of Barellan, who objected to being questioned +by the representative of "Racing Life" or any other journalist. + +"I'm quite aware of that, but as I presume you have seen him since your +arrival, I thought perhaps you could give me some later information to +wire to Sydney. There will be considerable excitement over the mishap," +said Tom in his most placid manner, at the same time wishing Bellshaw at +the uttermost part of the earth. + +"You know as much as I do," returned Bellshaw. "If he doesn't pull round +by Monday he'll be struck out." + +Glen Leigh looked at him with contempt. He knew Bellshaw would not be so +anxious about the sweep money if Barellan were dead lame, a hopeless +case. + +"That won't be the reason he's struck out," said Glen and they all +looked at him questioningly. + +Bellshaw turned on him in a rage. + +"It's a lie. It _will_ be because he's lame if he's struck out." + +Glen laughed. + +"You told me a few minutes ago you'd strike Barellan out if I did not +give you a cut out of the sweep," he said. + +Tom Roslyn smiled knowingly at Jerry as much as to say, "That's more +like it." + +"I say, Bellshaw, you'd never do a dirty thing like that?" said Nick. + +"I've told you my horse is lame; I also told Leigh I expected a cut out +of the sweep, and he said he wouldn't lay me anything. Do you think +that's fair?" Bellshaw asked. + +"He's drawn the horse; he can do as he likes. Personally I don't think +an owner has any right to demand sweep money," said Tom. + +"That's your opinion, is it? I expect you'd talk differently if you +owned Barellan," sneered Bellshaw. + +"If a lucky drawer of the sweep money offered me a portion I'd take it, +but I'd never demand it," replied Tom. + +"I mean to get some of it anyhow," declared Bellshaw. + +"Then if Barellan will start on those conditions," said Tom, "he can't +be so bad. I think I'll risk it and wire to that effect. It will relieve +his backers." + +"Wire if you like, but don't say I gave you the information." + +"Not willingly, but putting one thing with another I think I am +justified in wiring that your horse's lameness is not so serious as at +first supposed," answered Tom. + +"Then you'll be misleading the public, as you have done many a time." + +"I never mislead the public, knowingly," said Tom. + +"Through ignorance of facts," sneered Bellshaw. "Put it that way." + +"You're not making a bed of roses for yourself by going on in this way," +said Jerry. "You'll smart for it if you don't mind." + +"You've been on the spree ever since you've been here," remarked +Bellshaw. "I wonder what your boss would say if he knew." + +"You can tell him if you wish. I fancy you'd get your change," retorted +Jerry. + +Turning to Leigh, Bellshaw said, "I've had enough of this talk. You let +me know by Saturday what you are going to do, or I'll act as I said I +would." + +He left them and walked out of the office. + +"The atmosphere's a bit purer now he's gone," said Tom. "Isn't he a +bounder?" + +"He is. I've a good mind to rub it into him next week. He's a good +figure to caricature," answered Jerry. + +"Let him alone. Don't waste your talent on him," said Nick. + +"I'd better turn my attention to you, and call it 'The Philanthropist'," +suggested Jerry smiling. + +Nick laughed. He knew to what Jerry alluded. + +"I've issued a challenge," he said, "or rather I am about to do so; you +can wire it to the 'Life' if you wish to." + +"What is it, boxing?" + +"No, something more exciting. I'll wager two thousand pounds no one can +produce a horse that will throw Glen Leigh in a quarter of an hour. +There are conditions of course; it must be a throw, no lying down, and +rolling over him, and so on." + +"By Jove, that's plucky," said Tom. "He thinks a lot of your riding, +Leigh." + +"I do. He's the best roughrider in Australia, and that's saying a lot," +affirmed Nick. + +"We'll draw up the conditions," said Tom, "and I'll forward them." + +"Give 'em a month from date in which to find the animals," replied +Nick. "We must limit it to six horses, one to be ridden each night. It +will pack the place, bring grist to the mill, and it must come off in +Sydney. I mean to give Leigh half the stake if he wins, as I feel sure +he will." + +"What do you say, Leigh?" asked Tom. + +"I'll accept with pleasure; I'll ride anything they like to bring in," +answered Glen. + +"Good man," said Tom. "There'll be some sport. You'll have your work cut +out." + +Glen smiled confidently. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +BEATEN + + +It was Saturday night, and Glen Leigh had sent no word to Bellshaw about +the sweep money. + +Bellshaw waited impatiently in his private room at the hotel, fretting +and fuming. + +"If he thinks I don't mean what I said he's mistaken," he muttered. +"I'll scratch him right enough. He can't have a very big chance. He +limped a bit this morning. He'll have to run in bandages if he starts; +that doesn't look very well for a Cup horse. I'm not going to give him +all the spoil--not me." + +It was ten o'clock and still no word from Glen Leigh. Bellshaw thought +he would come round after the show, but he did not. + +"I'll wait until Sunday night," thought Bellshaw. "I can go round on +Monday morning and scratch him." + +Ivor Hadwin went to the show on Saturday night and saw Glen Leigh. He +was very anxious about what Bellshaw would do over Barellan, and tried +his utmost to persuade Glen to see him about it. + +"He'll not scratch him," said Glen. "He dare not." + +"You don't know him. He'd do it just to spite you." + +"Then he's a fool to throw away a chance of winning the Melbourne Cup +out of sheer spite." + +"Will you call on him to-morrow morning?" asked the trainer. + +"What's the good? There'll only be a scene," replied Glen. + +"Think of me, Leigh, the anxiety I've had over the horse for weeks, all +the trouble, and now the job of getting him to the post after his +lameness. It's heartbreaking," said Hadwin. + +Glen relented. For the trainer's sake he would see Bellshaw and try and +persuade him not to scratch Barellan, but he was firmly resolved not to +yield any sweep money. + +"Very well, I'll see him. I think I have a persuasive way, and I'll try +it on him," answered Glen. + +The trainer brightened visibly. + +"You're a good 'un. I'll not forget it," he said. + +About eleven o'clock on Sunday morning Glen Leigh was announced. + +Bellshaw smiled when he heard the name of his visitor. + +"Show him up," he said, and added to himself, "I thought he'd never be +such an ass as to throw a chance away." + +Glen entered the room. The only greeting he gave was a nod. He took a +chair without being asked, and threw his hat on the table, then leaned +back and looked at Bellshaw. + +"So you've come to your senses," said Bellshaw. "It's lucky for you the +office was closed on Saturday night, or my orders to scratch Barellan +would have gone in. There's the letter," and he threw it across the +table to him. + +Much to Bellshaw's surprise, which quickly changed to anger, Glen Leigh +tore it up and let the pieces flutter on the table. + +"Damn your impertinence. What do you mean by that?" roared Bellshaw. + +A tap at the door. A waiter put in his head. + +"Did you call, sir?" + +"No--get out," foamed the angry man. + +Glen smiled exasperatingly. + +"What do you mean by it?" asked Bellshaw again. + +"It's a silly useless letter, because you will not scratch Barellan," +answered Glen. + +Bellshaw simmered down. Leigh had come to make terms; they must be +liberal. + +"Useless because you are going to make a proposal," said Bellshaw. + +"I have a proposal to make?" + +"How much will you give me out of the sweep?" + +"Nothing," was the unexpected answer. + +Bellshaw flared up again, swore roundly, talked fast and furiously, all +to no purpose. Leigh sat immovable, lit a cigar and waited until he was +exhausted. + +"Would you like to hear my proposition?" asked Glen calmly. + +"Not if it doesn't refer to sweep money." + +"You'd better, for your own sake. It's rather important to you," said +Glen. + +"Nothing you have to say, outside the matter at issue, can interest me," +returned Bellshaw. + +Glen smiled at him. It was the most irritating thing he could do. + +"I shall sit here until you listen to what I have to say," he said. + +His manner was determined. He looked stubborn, and was more than a match +for Craig Bellshaw, as far as strength went. He got up and locked the +door, putting the key in his pocket. + +"What I have to say you would not like anyone to hear. Besides I don't +want you to bolt out of the room." + +"Get along with it then," growled Bellshaw, "but I assure you beforehand +you are wasting your time." + +"Oh no, I am not. You'll say so when I've done. You'll consider it +rather a clever move on my part and that the time was very well +occupied. It's about a woman," blurted out Glen suddenly. + +Craig Bellshaw felt as though an electric current had passed through +him. The remark was so unexpected, meant so many things, and he was +utterly in the dark. He stared at Glen, who still smiled as he said, "I +thought you'd be surprised. Do you know what became of the young woman +you took away from Mintaro and left in the open to die?" + +"You're raving. There never was a young woman at Mintaro," said Bellshaw +hoarsely. + +"Oh yes, there was. You drove her away in your buggy, emptied her out, +and left her insensible while you drove away. You told me about it the +night you walked in your sleep; at least all you knew. You acted well, +very well indeed. You illustrated in a remarkably clear way how you +attempted to throttle her. You also showed me how you were dragging her +to some water hole, but thought better of it, and left her to die of +hunger. I heard you speak to your horses so knew you must have taken +her there in a buggy. It's a bad plan to walk in your sleep when you've +a murder on your conscience," said Glen. + +Bellshaw glared at him like a caged tiger. + +"Murder," he hissed. "Be careful what you say." + +Glen took no notice of his remark. + +"Do you know what became of the woman?" he asked. + +"There was no woman." + +"Don't deny facts. It's a waste of breath. Doesn't Backham know there +was a woman at Mintaro? Don't all your hands know?" + +Bellshaw was silent. Glen was rubbing it in strong. + +"There's awful evidence against you to prove she was at your place. +We'll take that for granted; we'll also take it for granted you left her +in the wilderness to die--you brute," said Glen, who could hardly +restrain his feelings. + +Bellshaw writhed, but did not speak. He waited to hear more. + +"Do you know what became of the woman?" + +"I tell you there was no woman." + +"There's ample proof that you lie," answered Glen, "so I'll pass that. I +found her in my hut when I rode back from the fence." + +He gave Bellshaw a graphic account of what happened and how Jim Benny +came to assist him. + +Then he looked hard at Bellshaw as he placed his hands on the table and +stood up, leaning over until his face was within a few inches of the +squatter's. + +"She died in my hut," said Glen. "You are her murderer; you can't get +away from that." + +Bellshaw shivered. He believed what Glen Leigh said. It was not true, +but there was every justification for making the statement to punish +him. + +"She confessed how she came there and everything you had done to her +before she died," went on Leigh. "Jim Benny knows it; Bill Bigs knows +it; they were there. The evidence is strong enough, if not to hang you, +to send you to penal servitude for life." + +Bellshaw tried to laugh, but was thoroughly frightened. He had often +wondered what had become of the woman. The story sounded probable. She +might have wandered as far as Leigh's hut. During the few minutes' +respite Bellshaw thought of a way to retaliate. + +"You shot Joe Calder," he said. + +Glen being innocent, laughed. Bellshaw must have been dull if he did not +see his shot had not gone home. + +"I did not. I shouldn't wonder if you had a hand in it," retorted Glen. + +"He was a friend of mine." + +"You'd as soon leave a shot in a friend as an enemy if he was in your +way," said Glen. + +"Why have you told me this silly story?" + +"In the first place because I want to bring home to you that if Jim +Benny, Bill Bigs and myself bring a charge against you of causing the +death of this woman, you'll be in the hands of the police instead of +witnessing the Melbourne Cup. In the second place if you scratch +Barellan you will have no mercy shown you. We shall act at once," +replied Glen. + +Bellshaw saw the drift of it all. He was cornered. It was a clever move. +He would have to run the horse. The evidence of three men who saw the +woman die, and heard her charge against him, would be serious--too +serious for him to face in public. Even if he escaped punishment he +would be branded with infamy for life. + +"You'll not scratch Barellan?" said Glen. + +"I shall if I get no sweep money from you." + +"I say you will not scratch the horse," Glen repeated. + +"Supposing I do." + +"Then you will be taken into custody at once on the charge I mentioned." + +"And if I run him?" + +"You shall be free to do what you will. Your conscience will punish you; +it has done already. I saw that at Mintaro. You were afraid--a coward," +said Glen. + +"You will stand me a thousand out of the sweep?" + +"Not a farthing." + +Bellshaw would like to have shot him. + +"What guarantee have I that you will be silent?" he asked. + +"I give you my word," returned Glen. + +"That is nothing to me." + +"But it is to me, and you will have to accept it." + +"I will not." + +"You will run Barellan?" + +"No." + +"I have another witness," said Glen at a venture. + +"Go on. I am amused," answered Bellshaw, fighting hard before he gave +in. He must save his face by making some show of resistance. + +"Lin Soo," said Glen. + +The effect of the mention of this name on Bellshaw was remarkable. He +gasped and seemed on the point of choking, sank back in the chair, his +hands hanging down. + +Leigh opened the door and went downstairs for some brandy. This revived +Bellshaw and he looked round in a frightened way. + +"You will run Barellan?" asked Glen. + +Bellshaw murmured a faint "Yes." He was beaten. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +AT FLEMINGTON + + +There was tremendous excitement in Melbourne on the eve of the Cup. The +Victoria Club was thronged, a stream of people constantly passing up and +down the stairs on to Bourke Street. On the pavement the crowd was +dense, and it was difficult to push along. Many of the tobacconists' +shops were tenanted by bookmakers and heavy wagers were recorded in +them. Nick Gerard was busy at the Club; he had a heavy book on the race, +and had laid the favourite, Roland, the winner of the Caulfield Cup, +heavily. Barellan was one of his best horses; he had not laid much +against him. Ivor Hadwin gave him a glowing account of his candidate. On +Monday morning Glen relieved the trainer's mind by telling him he need +have no doubt about Bellshaw running the horse. + +"Then you must have laid him a lump out of the sweep," said the trainer. + +"Not a penny," answered Leigh. + +"Then how did you work it?" asked the trainer amazed. + +"I managed it after a tussle, but I can't tell you how," replied Glen. + +Wagering was fast and furious at the Club. Barellan's lameness +disappeared as if by magic and there were many people who thought the +whole thing a fake, and of course blamed Bellshaw. He was unpopular, and +made no secret that he ran his horses as he liked, without consideration +for anyone. When he came into the Club he was not greeted heartily as a +popular owner would have been. Hardly anyone spoke to him until one or +two bookmakers asked him if he wished to back his horse. + +Nick Gerard crossed over the room. + +"I suppose you've persuaded Leigh to give you some of the sweep money?" +he said. + +"Not a fraction. It's a mean, dirty action on his part, but as the horse +is so well backed I shall run him," replied Bellshaw. + +"It's something out of the common for you to consider backers," said +Nick. "Have you got all your money on?" + +"All I want. If he hadn't gone lame I'd have had more on; it's not worth +the risk now." + +The street was crowded until midnight, when the bulk of the people +wended their way homewards. + +Jerry Makeshift and Tom Roslyn walked down Collins Street together, +discussing the chances of the probable runners in the Cup. + +"What have you sent on as your final?" asked Jerry. + +"Barellan and Roland," answered Tom. + +"Why Barellan?" + +"I rather fancy him. I saw him this morning. Hadwin told me the horse +was all right again, and that the lameness disappeared as suddenly as it +came." + +"Still it can't have improved his chance for the Cup," said Jerry. "I +wonder how Leigh induced him to run the horse. He says he hasn't laid +him anything out of the sweep." + +"I'm glad of it. There's too much fleecing goes on. When a man is lucky +enough to draw a horse it's hard lines he should be robbed out of a lot +of it." + +"It's been the practice for so long, owners appear to regard it as a +right," said Jerry. + +"It's just as well they should find out it is not," replied Tom. + +The two friends parted and Jerry went on to the Federal. + +Next morning it was beautifully fine, and from an early hour huge crowds +wended their way to Flemington. Towards noon Spencer Street Station was +crammed. All the specials were full. + +There is no finer racing picture in the world than Flemington on Cup +Day. Even Royal Ascot pales before it in many respects. It is the luxury +of racing in comfort that makes Flemington, and most Australian courses, +attractive. There is room for everybody; there is no jostling or +overcrowding, and the cost is moderate. Everything is done to enhance +the pleasure of the public, who are not treated with the scant courtesy +meted out to them grudgingly in England. + +The lawn and stand were a grand sight before racing commenced. The hill +at the back, overlooking the stand, was a mass of people, yet there was +ample room to move about. The beds on the lawn were gay with +brilliant-hued flowers. The grass was splendidly green; there was no +dust or dirt, no fear of new and wondrously devised ladies' costumes +being damaged in an hour. Despite the heat, it was one of November's +hottest days, people looked cool. There was plenty of shade. Cosy tables +for luncheon parties were laid beneath arbours of vines, whose leaves +afforded a refreshing covering. Here scores of parties chatted and made +merry, talking over the prospects of the horses in the great race of the +year. Coaches, with fine teams, came driving in. There were no motor +cars, and the scene was far more picturesque without them. On the flat +the huge crowd assembled. It was evident there would be a record +attendance. + +The Governor and his Lady arrived and were greeted with rousing cheers +as they stepped from their carriage and walked across the lawn to the +reserved box on the grand stand. + +The bookmakers, located between the lawn and the paddock, were not +cooped up in an iron cage like animals in a zoological collection. +Wagering could be done in comfort. There was no fighting to get money, +no scrambling. Everything was decent and in order. + +Nick Gerard stood with his back to the rails, against the stewards' and +official enclosure and his clerks were seldom still. The leviathan had a +big book, and could afford to lay any horse asked for, but a casual +observer might have noticed he was in no particular hurry to put +Barellan's name down. He laid against Roland whenever he got a chance, +but the horse was so heavily backed he came down to five to one before +the first race was decided. + +A whole string of horses figured in the betting, and there were +thirty-one runners in the field, or would be if all started. + +Isaac, the winner of the Derby on the previous Saturday, had plenty of +friends. He was ridden by Nicholl in that race, and the jockey +considered he had an excellent chance. + +He had been asked to ride him in the Cup, but had to decline because he +was engaged for Barellan. + +Luke Nicholl was conscientious. He liked the trainer of Barellan, and +since he had known Glen Leigh he had been on very friendly terms with +him. Barellan's temporary lameness came as a blow to the jockey, as he +might have had the mount on any horse in the race he could do the weight +for. + +Ivor Hadwin, however, had somewhat relieved his mind when he told him +Barellan moved in his accustomed style, and he had but little fear about +his lasting out the race. + +"You'll ride him carefully," he said. "No need to tell you that. Nurse +him until you are well in the straight; then let him come along as fast +as you like. I got a clever man to bind his hoof. It's a bit brittle, +and he'll run in bandages, but take my word for it, whatever beats him +will win. I fear nothing, Luke." + +This was reassuring and Nicholl looked like not only riding the Derby +and Cup winners but also landing his first Melbourne Cup. For the +leading jockey he had had bad luck in the race, having been placed half +a dozen times. He could never quite get home. He hoped Barellan would +accomplish that for him. + +As he went into the paddock he encountered Glen Leigh. + +"I hope you'll win," said Glen. "It means a lot to me, as you know. If +Barellan gets home you shall have five hundred." + +Luke thanked him, and said he'd do his best, telling him what Hadwin +said. + +"That sounds all right," returned Glen smiling, "let's hope he's hit the +mark." + +"You'd better have a bit on my mount in this race," said the jockey. It +was the Railway Handicap, six furlongs, fifteen runners. + +"What are you on?" asked Glen. + +"Pioneer," replied Luke. "There he is. I must hurry up." + +Glen turned back into the ring, and walked to Gerard. + +"What price Pioneer?" he asked. + +Nick looked at him and smiled. + +"Eight to one," he answered. + +"Eight fivers," said Glen, handing him a note. + +There was a few minutes' slackness and Gerard said, "What makes you +fancy Pioneer?" + +"Nicholl's riding him. He told me to have a bit on." + +"His luck's in," said Nick, who sent one of his clerks to put fifty on +Luke's mount. + +Glen Leigh met Bill Bigs and induced him to back Pioneer, also Jim +Benny, and they went on the stand to see the race. + +Many people knew Glen Leigh as the daring rider in the Buckjumping Show; +and he was a tall, athletic, handsome man. Many bright eyes were +levelled at him as he moved about. + +"What's Pioneer's colours?" asked Bill. + +Glen looked at his race book. + +"White, black cap," he said. + +He had no sooner spoken than the horses were off, racing up the straight +at top speed. It was a regular Newmarket Handicap on a small scale. + +Soon after crossing the tan the white jacket came to the front. + +"That's Pioneer!" exclaimed Bill. + +"He's in front and he'll stop there," said a man behind him. + +"I hope he does." + +"So do I. He's a speedy horse, and good enough for a Newmarket." + +Pioneer came sailing along past the stands and turned out an easy winner +by three lengths, at which there was much jubilation among the three +friends. + +"I shall put my winnings on Barellan," said Bill. + +"So shall I," said Jim. + +"I'll keep mine in my pocket," said Glen. + +"You've got a big stake going. By Jove, it will be a go if you win first +prize in the sweep; you'll be a cut above us poor beggars then," Bill +remarked. + +"It won't make the slightest difference that way," replied Glen smiling. + +"I know that, old man. I was only chaffing," laughed Bill. "I suppose if +anyone accepts Gerard's challenge you'll ride, even if Barellan wins?" + +"Certainly. I promised him," Glen answered. + +"Let us go into the paddock, and have a look at some of the Cup horses," +said Jim, and they walked along the lawn in that direction. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +HE LOOKED AT HIS TICKET + + +"That was a good tip; we all backed it," said Glen as Nicholl came up to +them. + +"He won easily," said the jockey smiling. + +"Your luck's in," remarked Bill. + +"I hope it will continue in the Cup," answered the jockey. + +Barellan was being put to rights in the corner of the paddock and they +went to see him. + +Bellshaw was not there, so Hadwin had an opportunity of speaking to +them. He assured Glen the horse would win if he had a good run in the +race, which he was almost sure to have with such a jockey as Luke +Nicholl in the saddle. + +Barellan looked fresh and well. His coat shone like satin. He was +trained to the hour, but the suspicious-looking bandages, and one hoof +bound up with copper wire, caused many people to pass him by in their +search for the winner. + +Luke Nicholl, wearing Bellshaw's sky blue jacket and red cap, was ready +to mount when the time came. He felt confident. Hadwin had made an +impression on him, inspired him with some of his enthusiasm. Nicholl was +well off, Hadwin was not; the victory of Barellan meant the difference +between debt and independence. The trainer was not a gambler. He seldom +had more than five or ten pounds on, but he could not resist backing +Barellan, at the long prices offered, when he was lame. He had three +thousand to ninety about the horse, and backed him to win another +thousand that morning. Glen had laid him five hundred out of the sweep +money. + +Perhaps Glen Leigh was one of the most anxious men on the course, but +there was no sign that he was unduly excited. He laughed and joked as +usual and appeared quite calm outwardly. + +The chance of winning a fortune of nearly twenty-five thousand pounds +for the investment of a sovereign does not come to many men in a +lifetime. This was what Glen stood to win, and he conjured up his future +prospects if it came off. He thought of Mrs. Prevost and Clara; the +former he knew loved him; at least he was very much mistaken if she did +not, and he knew he loved her. If Barellan won he would go to her and +ask her to be his wife, and she would not refuse. He cared nothing about +her connection with Bellshaw. He would never ask her about it. He knew +the man, and pitied any woman who got into his clutches. As he stood +looking at Barellan he thought what the horse's victory meant to him, +and naturally he became more anxious as the time of the race drew near. +He saw Bellshaw coming and would have avoided him had it been possible. + +The squatter scowled at him, then asked, "Have you changed your mind? +Will you give me a cent out of the sweep?" + +"No," replied Glen as he walked away. + +Bellshaw sent a curse after him, then turned to the jockey. + +"If you can't win it doesn't matter about riding him out for a place," +he said. "There's no sweep money attached to it." + +Nicholl made no reply. + +"Do you hear what I say?" snapped Bellshaw. + +"I heard; I shall have to ride him out." + +"You'll do as I tell you." + +"I shall ride Barellan out," said Nicholl firmly. + +"Against my orders?" + +"If those are your orders, yes. I am not going to run any risks." + +"What risk would you run?" + +"I might be called up before the stewards to explain, and I'm not going +to risk that for you or anyone else." + +"You hear what he says," Bellshaw said to the trainer. + +"He'll have to ride him out. There's no help for it. Besides, there's +big money for the places," answered Hadwin. + +"I don't want place money if he can't win. I want to keep that fellow +Leigh from winning if Barellan can't come in first," said Bellshaw. + +"I thought so," said Nicholl. + +Bellshaw did not stay to see his horse leave the paddock. He went back +into the ring. He was in a vile temper, which his trainer's confidence +in Barellan did not soothe. Leigh had got the better of him. He knew it +was no empty threat when Glen said he would be put on his trial for +manslaughter if evidence were given incriminating him. He hated Glen +Leigh. His animosity was so great he would have scratched Barellan had +he dared. He intended paying him out. The best way to wound him would be +through Mrs. Prevost. He cared nothing for her sufferings, even after +all she had been to him. He was a man without feelings. + +He was not quite sure whether Leigh would keep his promise if Barellan +won. There was Lin Soo. What did Leigh know about him? The paper found +under his bedroom door at Mintaro had warned him, and Leigh mentioned it +again in the hotel. He must see Lin Soo on his return to Sydney, but +first of all he would go to Mrs. Prevost's again and inform her he had +enlightened Glen Leigh as to her past life, would gloat over her +distress, make fun of her, then offer to be on friendly terms with her +again. He had no doubt she would accept. + +He stood alone in the ring listening to the calling of the odds. Roland +was a firm favourite. Isaac, Painter, Out Back, Adelaide, The Gong, +Rosehill, Canterbury, Crocker, Thane, The Rival, Jack, and Mackay, were +all well backed, some at long odds, and rank outsiders at a hundred to +one each. + +The name of Barellan was seldom called by the bookmakers. Bellshaw +wondered why? Had they laid his horse heavily before he met with his +accident? + +He went to Gerard and asked the price of his horse. + +"Full against him," replied Nick. + +"You mean you won't lay him," said Bellshaw. + +"Take it as you like." + +"Do you expect him to run well?" asked Bellshaw. + +"I expect him to win," answered the bookmaker. "I hope he does for +Leigh's sake." + +Bellshaw made some remark about Leigh being a bad lot. + +"He's a straight goer. It's a pity there are not more like him," said +Nick. + +"Perhaps it is. Even if he wins the sweep he'll soon lose it. Probably +you'll get most of it, or some of your fraternity," retorted Bellshaw. + +"You don't know the man. If he wins he'll stick to it, take my word for +it," said Nick. + +Barellan's price was a hundred to eight, and no longer odds were +obtainable about him. This was not tempting enough for Bellshaw, so he +made no further investment. + +Jack was knocked out to a hundred to one for some reason or other. His +trainer did not understand it as he thought the horse had a fair outside +chance. + +Glen Leigh was missing. Bill and Jim could not find him. + +"He's best alone until after the race," said Bill. "He must feel a bit +queer about it; I should." + +"So should I," agreed Jim. "Fancy standing to win all those thousands +for a sovereign; it makes a fellow's mouth water." + +"He'll do something for you if he wins the first prize," said Bill. + +"He's not mentioned it." + +"No, it's not his way, but he will, depend upon it; I shouldn't wonder +if he gives you his share in the show." + +Jim thought of Clara and what he would do if such a stroke of luck came +his way. Glen Leigh had gone on to the top of the stand close to the +press-box, where he would have a good view of the race. He wished to be +alone. His feelings almost overcame him. He saw Jerry and Tom Roslyn in +front of the press-box, and was glad they had not noticed him. + +There was a dull roaring sound all over the course, the voices of +thousands of people talking before the race, mingled with the shouts of +the bookmakers. A sea of faces met Glen's gaze as he looked across the +course. Far away, on the other side of the canal, people were camped on +the slopes, waiting for the big field to come out. At the back of him, +on the hill, there was a dense crowd reaching down to the top of the +stand; he turned round and looked at the surging mass. To his right, +below, was the ring, and paddock; he saw a mass of heads on Tattersalls' +stand, and just caught a glimpse of a colour or two in the paddock. On +the lawn people were still strolling about in groups. The race, most of +it, could be seen from the terrace and the slopes. Presently, when the +horses came round the bend for home there would be a rush to get on the +rails. Still further to the left was another stand, on which there was +plenty of room. Late lunchers were still under the vines, but were now +making a move towards the terrace and stands. A long streak of bright +green, the course, stretched out between the crowds. A solitary horseman +cantered down. It was the starter going to the post; then the clerk of +the course came along, on an old chaser, and went after him. Already +there were one or two in the stewards' stand. Near the weighing room +diminutive men were going about; they were the jockeys weighed out for +the race. It was an animated glittering scene; many-hued costumes, the +brightest of colours, the daintiest of designs, artistic creations, the +labour of clever women and clever men, and hats and sunshades almost too +dazzling to feast the eyes upon, as the glorious sun poured his rays +down from the cloudless sky. It was an ideal day. A faint breeze, tinged +with sea air from the bay far away, cooled hot cheeks, and blew +delicately through thin blouses and skirts. Men moved about in all sorts +of headgear; but there were no regulation top-hats, although in the +Governor's Box "a bit of Ascot" was seen. It was Glen Leigh's first +Melbourne Cup, and the sight at Flemington entranced him, threw a +glamour over him, and he looked at it all and fancied himself alone, +even in the vast crowd. And he had drawn Barellan in the big sweep. +Would the horse win? Would No. 33444 be the successful ticket? He had +it in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at it, thinking how +wonderful it was that if Barellan won he could cash it for nearly +twenty-five thousand pounds. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +BARELLAN FALLS BACK + + +Glen's thoughts wandered. The heat and excitement made him drowsy. For a +few minutes he dozed, and as he did so his mind went back to the days +when he was a keeper of the fence, on the border line between New South +Wales and Queensland. Surrounded by thousands on Flemington course he +slumbered peacefully, as men will when overcome with some powerful +feeling, that acts like a drug, and for a few minutes there is oblivion. + +His thoughts wandered far away. He was back once more on the glittering +wire fence, with Ping, and Spotty, waiting there in the blazing heat for +his mate to meet him and compare notes. There had been no rain for +months; everything was parched, and dried up. He saw thousands of dead +rabbits, and sheep. The stench seemed to be in his nostrils. The scene +changed. He was looking in at his hut and saw the woman on the bed. In a +few seconds he went through the struggle for a life again, the ride to +Boonara, the tussle for brandy with Bill Bigs, Jim's arrival, and +keeping watch, Spotty's attack; then the convalescence and the journey +to Sydney. His meeting with Mrs. Prevost, Bellshaw at Mintaro, the +search and capture of buckjumpers, Lin Soo, The Savage, the show, were +all jumbled up together when he came out of his temporary swoon with a +start, rubbed his eyes, and stared round him at the bustling scene, +hardly daring to believe he was not back in reality on the fence. He +gave a sigh of relief, and was wide awake again. He could not have been +asleep for more than five minutes, and he had gone through the +experiences of half a lifetime. It was strange. He had not quite shaken +it off when the horses came out of the paddock on to the track, and the +sight caused the past to vanish. + +All eyes were turned on them as they cantered down the course to the +starting post. There were thirty-one runners; it was a big field, and +half of them were considered to have chances. + +Jack, knocked out to a hundred to one, was first out, his jockey wearing +a green jacket, yellow belt and cap; then came half a dozen more in a +cluster. Isaac, the Derby winner, passed, going in great style. A +tremendous cheer greeted Roland, the favourite. His owner's black +jacket, white sleeves, and red cap were popular; the colours were always +out to win. Painter, Plume, and Out Back followed, then Glen saw the +sky-blue jacket and red cap, and his heart beat rapidly. Barellan went +slowly at first, then burst into a gallop, pulling hard, reaching for +his head, but Nicholl would not let him go. Glen watched him through his +glasses, until he reached the post, thinking how much depended upon him. +Barellan was carrying his fortunes. If he won what a change there would +be in his life. If Jerry had not suggested his buying a ticket probably +the opportunity would have gone by. Certainly he must be remembered if +Barellan won. Had he not bought the ticket, and, with it, luck? + +He looked round. All faces, thousands of them, were turned in one +direction, watching the horses at the post, waiting for the signal when +they would be dispatched on their journey. There was not much delay; +they were well-trained. The starter had the jockeys under control. He +was an autocrat, his powers great. It went ill with those who disobeyed +him. + +They were off; a terrific shout proclaimed it. The race for the great +stake had commenced. What Glen Leigh felt at that moment he hardly knew. +He had a hazy idea something was going to happen that would dash all his +hopes. He shook off the feeling and determined to take a hopeful view of +the situation. + +Jack was making the pace. He had a light weight. His jockey was told to +go ahead and wear the field down; the little fellow was nothing loth to +do so; for one thing, he would be out of harm's way, and be in no danger +of getting shut in. Jack was a dull grey horse, not a brilliant +performer by any means, although on one or two occasions he had shown a +turn of speed. There could be no doubt he was on his best behaviour, +for, as they passed the stand, he was half a dozen lengths ahead of his +field. Glen looked at each horse as they swept past; there was Barellan +in the middle division, on the rails, going at an even pace; Roland, the +favourite, was just in front of him. Close behind came Isaac, and +Mackay; he was in good company. + +Round the bend they swept, a cheer greeting them from Tattersalls' +stand. Jack spread out, increasing his lead as they entered the back +stretch. Half-way along the field closed up. There was not a long tail. +It was a pretty sight, thirty-one bright colours showing up, glinting in +the sunlight. The sheds were reached when racing began in earnest, for +no laggards here had any chance of success. + +Glen's glasses were levelled on the sky-blue jacket. He wondered when +Nicholl would make a forward move. He became anxious. Was he lying too +far back? Ought he not to be nearer the front? Why did he let Jack get +so far ahead? These and sundry other questions jostled each other in +Glen's mind. + +Bill Bigs, and Jim, were standing together on the terrace. They had a +fair view of the race. + +"Jack's got a lead on them," said Bill. + +"He'll give way before long," replied Jim. + +"Don't you be too sure, young man," said someone behind him. "I've seen +Jack do a good couple of miles several times lately." + +"You don't think he'll win?" asked Bill. + +"I won't go so far as that, but I reckon he'll put up a good fight," +answered the stranger: then asked, "What have you backed?" + +"Barellan," said Bill. + +"A friend of mine's on him. He fancies him a lot. Knows his owner, I +believe." + +"So do I. He's not much to know," remarked Bill. + +The stranger laughed. + +"He is rather unpopular," he said. + +"Look!" cried Jim. "Barellan and the favourite are going up." + +Glen Leigh saw the move on Nicholl's part. His heart was in his mouth. +The jockey had just squeezed Barellan through on the rails and the +favourite had to go on the outside. As they neared the home turn the +crowd shouted. The names of half a dozen horses rang out clearly over +the course. + +Jack was first into the straight. He had made all the running and was +still going strong. Glen wondered if they would get on terms with him. + +Isaac, finding an opening, dashed through. The Derby winner was bound to +be thereabouts. He had run well and was coming out at the right time; +his rider's pink jacket and white cap showed conspicuously. + +Mackay's jockey pushed his mount and ran into third place, behind Jack +and Isaac. They were all in the straight now, thirty-one runners, and +the centre lot, numbering about a score, were all of a heap. The jackets +looked bunched together, a many-hued mass of colour. + +Barellan lost his position on the rails as they rounded the bend. He was +not forced out but ran wide. Nicholl, taken by surprise at this move, +thought it must be his leg pained him, and he wanted more room. He grew +anxious. There was a slight faltering on Barellan's part. He must be +nursed carefully or he might break down, and nursing at this critical +point, when every horse with a chance was making a run, spelt defeat, +being left behind. As it was Barellan fell back when he ought to have +come into the front rank. + +Glen Leigh's hand shook as he held his glasses. The sky-blue jacket was +right away at the end of the middle division. Barellan's chance looked +forlorn. His hopes were shattered; the thousands vanished into thin air; +it was what he might have expected. How could he win with only a +sovereign invested? It was absurd on the face of it. He was foolish to +buoy himself with false hopes. He had raised a mirage in which he saw +happiness and full content. Now it vanished and would never appear +again. + +"It is all up," he muttered. "I was a fool to think I could win such a +sum." + +"Hang it all, where's that beastly blue jacket got to?" said Bill. + +"Right away back," returned Jim. "We're done. I'm sorry for Glen." + +It was with mingled feelings Bellshaw saw Barellan fall back; he wanted +to win a Melbourne Cup, at the same time he wished Leigh to lose his +sweep money. He hardly knew which feeling was the stronger. If Barellan +were beaten he would have the satisfaction of knowing Leigh had been +done out of thousands and there was a chance that he, Bellshaw, might +win the Cup another time. + +Ivor Hadwin guessed why Barellan ran wide and lost his place at the +bend. It was the strain on his bound foot which caused it; he ran out to +ease it. Would he regain his position? He doubted it, but knew the horse +was one of the gamest, and at the end of two miles he went as fast as +the average horse at the end of half the distance, so he hoped for the +best as he fixed his glasses on the sky-blue jacket. + +Jack shot his bolt. He had done well, and was not disgraced, but the +pace and the distance proved too much for him. Isaac took his place, the +Derby winner coming along in great style. His numerous admirers and +supporters were on good terms with themselves. Roland came with a rattle +and ran into third place behind Isaac and Out Back, who made a terrific +run from the bend. A large field of horses in the straight, at the +finishing struggle for a Melbourne Cup, is one of the most exciting +scenes in the racing world; it rouses the lethargic to some sort of +enthusiasm, and a lover of the great game almost goes frantic over it. +From the moment the horses race in desperate earnest, when the bend is +cleared, the pent-up excitement continues until the winning post is +passed. + +Glen Leigh, with a matter of twenty-five thousand at issue, looked on +wonderingly; even the melancholy fact that Barellan was so far back did +not obliterate from view the grand sight he witnessed. As he looked at +the various horses, one by one, from Isaac in the lead, his rider's pink +jacket and white cap standing out alone, he gave a gasp of surprise. +What caused it? + +"Look at Barellan!" yelled a man standing near him. + +Glen looked, his eyes glued on the sky-blue jacket. It was this which +had caused the gasp of surprise. Barellan was going great guns, and +passing horse after horse in a remarkable manner. His name was shouted +over the course, far and wide. + +"Barellan, Barellan!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +WHAT A FINISH! + + +What looked like a hopeless position was turned into a promising +situation as Barellan came up the course at a tremendous pace. It was a +thrilling sight, watching the sky-blue jacket forging ahead, and Glen +Leigh's pulses beat rapidly. His body quivered as it had never done +before as he watched Barellan galloping the field to a standstill. The +shouting was tremendous. The noise deafening. Barellan's name echoed +over the course. Smack, on Roland, cast a hasty glance back and caught +sight of the blue on the outside. Barellan had "dropped from the +clouds." It was now or never. If he caught Isaac he might win. He raised +his whip, shaking it at the favourite. The gallant Caulfield Cup winner +responded gamely and was soon at the Derby winner's quarters. In another +moment he crept up, drawing level, and there was a rare set-to for the +advantage. + +Nicholl watched the leading pair. A smile flickered across his face. +They were playing into his hands, wearing each other down. The struggle +must tell, and there was still a furlong to go. Almost level with +Barellan were Rosehill and Out Back, the last named still going well. +When Barellan forged ahead and left them there was a terrific yell. Glen +Leigh dropped his glasses in his excitement. A man picked them up, +handing them to him, saying with a smile, "I expect you're on Barellan." + +"I drew him in the sweep," said Glen. + +The man stared at him, then said, "And you stand a good chance of +winning. Lucky fellow, you are." + +The chase commenced. Three to four lengths in front were Isaac and +Roland. The form was coming out well. If Barellan beat the Derby and +Caulfield Cup winners he would indeed be a great horse. When he lost his +place, and fell back soon after rounding the bend, there were at least a +dozen lengths to make up. It seemed impossible it could be done. +Nicholl rode with splendid judgment, nursing his mount carefully, easing +him as far as he dare, but he could not afford to lose more ground. Then +came the sudden spurt on the horse's part, without being forced. It was +a spontaneous effort, without pressure, and Nicholl's hopes rose +rapidly. His winning prospects increased with every stride. + +Pandemonium reigned on the course. This was to be a most exciting +finish. If Barellan kept up his run to the finish there was no telling +what might happen. + +Isaac was on the rails, Roland level with him, the pair racing in grim +earnest, fighting as only the best thoroughbreds can; no giving way, no +acknowledging defeat, a battle of giants, stern, determined, the jockeys +helping their mounts with all the skill and experience at their command. + +Barellan, and Out Back, were having a tussle behind the leading pair. +The spectators, roused to a boiling pitch of excitement, watched first +the leaders, then the others, and wondered if the latter pair would get +up. + +It was a breathless scene, full of strange emotion, bringing out all the +pent-up enthusiasm that nothing can rouse like a great race. People +watched with bated breath; hands shook, hearts palpitated, eyes blinked, +faces twitched, nerves twinged, pulses beat rapidly. In all those +thousands no one appeared to stand quite still. There were movements +everywhere; it was impossible to restrain them. + +Glen Leigh's mind was in a whirl. + +Twenty-five thousand pounds at stake, a fortune on Barellan and the +horse was only a few lengths from the winning post. He guessed how many, +twenty, thirty, more, less, which was it? What did it matter, if only he +won at the finish! + +"He'll win, he'll win, he'll win," seemed to be the refrain in Glen's +ears as he now and then caught a dull sound of hoofs when there were +brief lulls in the shouting. + +"Go on, Luke," he yelled. "Go on. You'll catch 'em." + +He could not restrain his feelings. He must shout or something would +happen. The strain was too great. There might be a snap, and then +collapse. + +Glen Leigh was a strong man, hard and fit, but the perspiration stood on +his forehead like beads, then gradually trickled down his face. He did +not feel it. Even when the drops wet his eyes he took no notice. He +glared at the sky-blue jacket through a mist which soon passed, although +for the moment it dimmed his vision. He put down the glasses. He could +see without them. The horses were not far off. He bent forward, swayed a +little. The man who had spoken to him thought he was about to fall and +caught him by the arm. He remembered a policeman, who had drawn the +winner, falling down dead on the lawn as the horses passed the post. + +Glen felt the friendly pressure, and said in a thick voice, "Thanks. I'm +all right." + + * * * * * + +Roar after roar came from the surging crowd as Roland, the favourite, +got his head in front of Isaac. + +The shouts of triumph rang in the air, heralding the victory of the +favourite, and when this happens in a Melbourne Cup the scene baffles +description. Who that saw it will ever forget the wonderful victory of +Carbine when he carried top weight, started favourite, and beat +Forester's Highborn, and Correze, both outsiders, easily? It was a sight +seen only once in a lifetime. It equalled Persimmon's Derby, if it did +not surpass it, and "Old Jack" took it all quietly, for, as he passed +the winning post, he stopped, turned round, and made for the weighing +enclosure without any assistance from Ramage, his pilot. This race was +more exciting than Carbine's Cup even, for there were four horses in it, +all with chances, and close on the winning post. + +"Even hundred nobody names it," yelled a bookmaker in the ring. It was a +safe offer, for nobody could name it except by a lucky guess. + +Roland was a neck in front of Isaac, Out Back and Barellan were on their +quarters. + +An electric current seemed to shoot through the living mass of human +beings and galvanise them into life; such a shout rent the air as had +not been heard at Flemington before. There had been desperate finishes +between two horses, but here were four putting up one of the greatest +battles ever seen. + +Glen Leigh shook with excitement. Small wonder at it, for the sky-blue +jacket had passed Out Back, and drawn almost level with Isaac. + +"I'm sure of the place money," thought Glen with a sigh of relief. + +Sure of the place money! In another second Barellan looked all over a +winner. Roland, hard ridden, held his own. Isaac was only half a length +off, the three together, with Out Back on the Derby winner's quarters. +What a fight, and what a great compliment to the handicapper, for behind +the leading four came a cluster of six, not two lengths away. + +Bill Bigs and Jim were well nigh frantic. Their hats were off. They +yelled, "Barellan," until they were hoarse. + +Ivor Hadwin turned pale. The strain was almost more than he could bear. +If, if only Barellan got his head in front as they passed the judge's +box. + +"He will. He'll win," almost shouted the trainer, who had to give way +under the pressure. His shouts acted like a safety valve. + +Barellan was head and head with Isaac, Roland half a length to the good, +and the winning post a few yards away. + +Luke Nicholl, for the first time, raised his whip. He was on the outside +and his right arm was free. + +One cut, another, a third, not too sharp, just sufficient to sting, to +give Barellan a reminder. + +The effect was astounding. Barellan, acting under the unexpected, went +forward with a final rush. His speed was so great that he caught up to +the favourite in two strides; his head shot out, his nostrils red and +wide, his eyes glared, his nose, then half a head, was in front; a +fraction of a second's suspense, then he claimed a head advantage, then +half a neck, a neck, and when this was realised the stands seemed to +shake with the deafening noise. It was marvellous. Rounding the bend +Barellan had fallen back a dozen lengths. His case seemed hopeless. He +had made up all the lost ground in the straight, and now he had his +neck in front of all the runners. + +Roland made a desperate effort, reducing the distance to half a neck +again. Isaac drew up, so did Out Back. The four horses were all +together. + +Glen Leigh looked, and looked. He had a dim vision of blue, pink, black, +white, red, orange, mixed together. Was the blue in front? He thought +so. How he hoped no one else knew. + +At last the struggle was at an end. The horses passed the post, four of +them with not a length between them. An anxious pause; thousands of +people could not tell which had won, the numbers were not up. The judge +seemed a long time hoisting them, but up they went at last. He placed +Barellan first, Roland second, a neck away, Isaac and Out Back, half a +length away, dead heat for third place. + +What a finish! + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +A TERRIBLE SAVAGE + + +It was over. Barellan had won, and Glen Leigh was the fortunate holder +of his number in the sweep. He had come into a fortune at one stroke. He +elbowed his way through the crowd hardly knowing what he was doing, and +went in search of his friends. It was not easy to find them in the great +crowd streaming towards Tattersalls and the paddock. As he pushed +through the ring he saw people gathering round bookmakers. Barellan must +have been well backed; hundreds were drawing money. He saw nothing of +Bill and Jim. He would go into the paddock. They might be there, +thinking he had gone to look at the winner. + +Nicholl had weighed in and was standing talking to the trainer as Glen +appeared on the scene. They greeted him heartily, shaking his hand, +congratulating him on his good fortune. + +"There's five hundred each for you," said Glen. + +They thanked him; it was a generous gift. + +"I never felt so queer in my life as I did when Barellan fell back just +after rounding the bend," declared Glen. "What happened?" + +"I thought he was going to crack up," answered the jockey. "It must have +been his foot. I fancy he wanted to ease it as he came round the bend; +it probably pinched him." + +"That's it," said Hadwin. "There's no doubt about it. What a run he made +up the straight. I never saw anything like it." + +While they were talking Bellshaw came up, scowling. He did not look like +the owner of the Cup winner. + +"You see I was right," said Hadwin. "He won a great race." + +"Which Nicholl nearly threw away," retorted Bellshaw. + +"You're mistaken," said the jockey. "If Barellan hadn't been one of the +gamest horses that ever looked through a bridle he would never have got +up and won." + +"You ran him out wide at the bend when you had a good position on the +rails," said Bellshaw. + +Nicholl explained, but the squatter was in no mood to listen to reason. +He had won the Melbourne Cup, but Glen Leigh had won first prize in the +sweep, and this made him rage. By all the rights of ownership he ought +at least to have five thousand laid him if his horse won. When he +thought how Leigh threatened him with exposure, he could have killed him +without compunction. There was no more dissatisfied man on the course +than the owner of the Cup winner. He had no pleasure in the victory. The +cheering he knew was not for him but for the horse and jockey. + +Glen Leigh walked away to avoid him. He saw the man was in no mood to be +crossed and was almost beside himself with ill-feeling and +disappointment. It was not, however, Bellshaw's intention that Glen +should escape him. He wished to quarrel with somebody, and Leigh scented +his purpose. He walked after him and said, loud enough for those +standing near to hear, "You've won the sweep money by the aid of my +horse. Are you man enough to give me something out of it?" + +Glen guessed by the way he spoke he meant mischief. There was menace in +his voice. He stopped, faced him, and answered, "I'm man enough to +refuse to give you a penny out of it." + +Bellshaw swore, then stepping up to him said savagely, "I suppose you'll +try and get Rosa Prevost--buy her with the money you've won? You'll not +succeed. I'll outbid you. She's fond of money, besides she's been my +woman for several years. Perhaps you don't know that. I never intended +marrying her. She knew it, and was quite contented with my terms. She +will be so again. You stand no chance. I can easily convince her she +will be better off with me." + +His insulting words made Glen Leigh's blood boil. + +"Be careful what you say or it will be the worse for you," he said. + +Bellshaw laughed. + +"Can't you find another woman? Are you tied down to marry my mistress?" + +By way of reply Glen Leigh raised his right arm, clenched his fist, +struck Bellshaw full in the mouth and knocked him down. + +Ivor Hadwin, Bill Bigs and Jim Benny saw what happened; they hurried +through the crowd and gathered round them. "Get out of this, Glen," said +Bill, "or there'll be ructions." + +Hadwin pulled Bellshaw away as he struggled to his feet. + +"You can't fight here. They'll hustle you on the course if you do. A +nice thing to happen to the owner of the Cup winner." + +Bill caught Glen by the arm, dragging him along. Bellshaw seemed in no +hurry to return the blow. He let the trainer lead him away. His mouth +was bleeding, his lip cut. The blow was severe; Glen had hard hitting +powers. + +Bellshaw turned his attention to his trainer, calling him names, abusing +him generally, then suddenly turned sullen and walked away. Soon after +he left the course and went to his hotel. + +He sat down and wrote a letter to Nick Gerard saying he would accept his +wager of two thousand pounds to find a horse Glen Leigh could not ride +for a quarter of an hour. The match must take place in Sydney the +following week, the Saturday night, and there must be no other acceptors +of the offer. He returned to Sydney by the mail train that night, and on +arriving there journeyed to Mintaro. + +Glen Leigh received his cheque for the sweep money by the end of the +week. It amounted to twenty-four thousand, six hundred pounds. He knew +now what it was to possess money. He paid Luke Nicholl and Ivor Hadwin +five hundred each, and gave handsome gifts to Bill and Jim and to Jerry +Makeshift. + +Nick Gerard showed Glen Bellshaw's letter, accepting his challenge, and +asked him what he thought about it. + +"I'll ride anything he cares to put into the ring," replied Glen. "He's +got some horses at Mintaro that are terrible savages, almost mad, but +I'll try and win your money, Nick. I'd like to beat him." + +"Very well, then I'll accept his offer and withdraw the notice. He'll +find you enough to do, I expect," said Nick smiling. + +"He will, you can depend upon that. He's pretty certain he can find +something that will throw me, or he'd not have accepted," answered Glen. + +"And will Saturday next week suit you?" + +"Yes, the show goes back to Sydney on Monday." + +"Capital; there'll be an exciting struggle. I suppose there's no doubt +Bellshaw will play fair?" + +"I don't see how he can help it. He'll pick out a nasty brute for me to +ride, but that's part of the game," said Glen. + +On all sides Glen was congratulated on winning first prize in the sweep. +He was inundated with letters from all sorts of people, anxious to +negotiate loans for the most part, others who wished to recommend safe +investments. Land agents offered him ideal residences, owners of horses +placed prices on their animals for him; charities solicited him, women +wrote saying they were quite willing to consider him as a husband if he +wanted a wife. + +Glen laughed at them all. He placed his money in the bank and went on +his way contented. + +When Bellshaw arrived at Mintaro unexpectedly he explained what he +wanted--the worst horse that could be found, a savage, quite ready to +kill and tear a man to pieces. + +His new overseer, Sam Wimpole, he had appointed when Garry Backham left; +he was a man of his master's stamp, cruel, unscrupulous. Already the +hands hated him; more than one had threatened to do for him. + +Bellshaw explained what he wanted, then added, "If you can find me a +horse that will throw him I'll give you a hundred pounds. I want to win +the wager. I want to see him injured for life, or better still, killed +outright. Do you understand?" + +Wimpole grinned. He understood. He knew the sort of horse. There was one +at Five Rocks, ten times worse than The Savage. It would be risky +catching him and taking him to Sydney, but once there he'd bet any money +Leigh couldn't sit on him five minutes. It was more than likely the +brute would kill him. It was a big powerful brown stallion, as big as +old Tear'em, and worse tempered. He should say he was seven or eight +years old and had never been handled. + +"The beast chased me five or six miles," he said. "If he'd caught me I +shouldn't be here to tell you about him." + +This news put Bellshaw in a better humour. The idea of maiming Glen +Leigh was just to his mind. He ordered Wimpole to yard the horse no +matter at what danger, or risk, and to take him to Bourke and from there +to Sydney. + +Next day Wimpole, taking the bulk of the hands with him, managed, after +much trouble, to yard the horse, among others, lasso him, and throw him +down, keeping him bound until he was exhausted with his struggles. On +the way to Mintaro the horse savaged two men, lamed three horses, and +had a tussle with Wimpole which almost caused the overseer to wish he'd +not told Bellshaw anything about him. + +When the owner of Mintaro saw the great powerful, unbroken, fiery +stallion, and heard of the damage he had already done, he was satisfied. +He had no doubt he would win the wager, and that Glen Leigh would +probably be seriously injured. + +"It's worth a hundred to take him to Bourke," said Wimpole. + +"You shall have it when he's trained," returned Bellshaw. "You must go +in the same train with me." + +"I'd best take a couple more hands with me," said Wimpole. "He's more +than a match for me." + +To this Bellshaw assented. All he thought about was injuring Leigh. + +It was an awful experience taking the horse to Bourke, but after a lot +of cruel treatment, which cowed him for a time, they succeeded. He was +put in an ordinary cattle truck and securely lashed back and front; a +band was also thrown round him and fastened to each side. Twice he broke +the stout ropes, but finally he was tied securely. + +Bellshaw watched the operation with evident pleasure. He was thinking +what was in store for Glen Leigh. It made him smile grimly. + +The station master asked Bellshaw what he was going to do with the horse +if he got him safely to his destination. + +Bellshaw explained about the wager, and who was to ride the horse. + +The station master made an ordinary remark, but when the train started +he muttered, as he looked after it, "Leigh'll be killed if he attempts +to ride that brute." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +MAN AND HORSE LAY SIDE BY SIDE + + +There was some earnest conversation between Bellshaw and his overseer on +the way to Sydney. + +"You'll do it," said Bellshaw. "Promise me you'll do it, and I'll give +you fifty pounds down." + +"I'll manage it," said Wimpole. + +"I shall be with the horse all the time, until he mounts, to see they +don't tamper with him," he added with a wink. + +Bellshaw laughed. They had hatched a wicked plot against Glen Leigh, and +Wimpole was to carry it out. + +"There'll be trouble if it's discovered," said Wimpole. + +"You're not going to back down?" + +"No, only if there's any danger of its being found out I shall bolt, and +it will take more money than you offer to get me out of the country in +comfort." + +"How much do you want?" asked Bellshaw. + +"I must have five hundred planked down before I do it," replied Wimpole. + +"Too much," said Bellshaw, but after an angry altercation agreed to +Wimpole's terms. + +"The risk's great. It will be a case of manslaughter right enough if +anything happens to Leigh, and it's discovered." + +The announcement in huge placards and newspaper advertisements that Glen +Leigh was to ride an unbroken stallion from Mintaro for a quarter of an +hour, for a wager of two thousand a side, between Craig Bellshaw and +Nicholas Gerard, roused curiosity to its highest pitch, and there was a +prospect of an enormous attendance. Glen Leigh was confident Bellshaw +would be unable to find a horse that could unseat him. Bill Bigs did not +like the look of things; he thought of foul play. He did not trust +Bellshaw. He knew the squatter would give a good round sum to injure +Leigh. + +Glen had been to Manley and seen Mrs. Prevost; he asked her to be his +wife, and she consented. When she alluded to the past he said it was +buried; he had no wish to unearth it. Clara Benny, as she was still +called, looked much better since she had been with Mrs. Prevost. There +was no doubt her health would be completely restored, but whether this +meant the recovery of her lost memory was uncertain. Mrs. Prevost tried +to persuade Glen not to ride in the match. She was sure he would be +injured, Bellshaw was such a vindictive man. + +Glen laughed her fears away, and made her promise to come and see him +win the wager; he said Bellshaw would have no chance of using foul play +against him. + +"You'll give up the show after this match?" she begged. + +"I'll hand my share over to Jim Benny," he answered. "I'll only go into +the ring when you give me permission," he added smiling. He knew she +would consent when he asked her. + +The excitement caused over the two thousand pound wager was intense, and +on Saturday night the building was crammed to suffocation. + +Sam Wimpole had the horse in readiness, saddled and bridled, as it would +have been impossible to do this in the ring. The horse was in a savage +mood. Since morning he had gradually grown worse. Just before the +performance was to commence he was in a perfect fury, lashing out, and +biting at his tormentors. + +Sam Wimpole watched him with a peculiar smile. When Craig Bellshaw came +to look at Lion, as they named him, Sam cautioned him not to go near. + +"Have you done it?" asked Bellshaw in a whisper. + +"Yes, gave him an injection an hour ago. He's had three. I'll give him +another before he goes into the ring; it will drive him almost mad. I +wouldn't mount him for a thousand pounds." + +"I shouldn't like to try you," said Bellshaw. + +"I wouldn't really. What's a thousand pounds against your life?" + +"Is it as bad as that?" + +"Quite." + +Bellshaw's smile was ugly. In imagination he saw Glen Leigh stretched +out a crushed and battered mass. + +The time drew nearer. A quarter of an hour before--the struggle was to +commence at nine--Sam Wimpole took out a small syringe from his +waistcoat pocket, crept up to the horse's side, and quickly made an +injection. Lion shivered, then gave a snort, and tried to grab Sam as he +nipped back into safety. + +Sam wished to be rid of the syringe. It had done its work, but he dare +not throw it away, and he could not go outside; he placed it in his +trousers pocket for the time being. + +Lion was led into the ring by two men who had long poles strapped on +each side of his bit. No one was to be in the ring when Leigh took the +bridle in his hand and the poles were loosened and taken away. There was +a breathless silence as the horse stood quivering; it was broken by a +deafening cheer as Glen Leigh came in. Lion reared and plunged at the +sound, but was held fast. Leigh came towards him, a heavy whip in his +hand. He walked straight up to the horse, looking him in the eyes; at +that moment he fancied there was something wrong with Lion, who seemed +frenzied. His eyes glowed like live coals, his breath was hot, steaming; +Glen felt it on his face. He undid the pole straps, made a signal to the +men, who hastily drew them away and ran out of the ring, and sprang into +the saddle before Lion was aware of his intention. Glen knew if he once +got safely seated half the battle would be won. Luck favoured him in +this respect. + +The horse had never been mounted until this moment, and for a few +seconds he seemed paralysed with fright at the strange experience. This +did not last long. With a wicked bound he tried to get rid of his +strange burden. It was a vain hope. Glen stuck to the saddle like a +limpet to a rock. Lion was a far stronger horse than the Savage, and +Wimpole had given him a drug that would increase his strength and +endurance until the effect died away. Never had Glen Leigh been on such +a horse. He knew Lion possessed tremendous strength. The strain on his +arms was immense, also on the whole of his body. + +Lion did not act like an ordinary buckjumper. He had his own plans of +getting rid of his burden; they were quite original because they had +been brought into play for the first time. He had a long reach, and +whenever he tried to bite Glen's thigh he had to pull his legs back +quickly. The horse showed no inclination to lie down, or to crush Glen +against the posts. Without the slightest warning he set off on a furious +gallop round and round the ring. After a dozen rounds he began bucking +as no horse ever bucked before. Up and down he went like a rocking +horse, then on all fours off the ground, his back arched to a point, all +the saddle gear strained to bursting. + +Glen felt the perspiration pouring off him. It was the hardest struggle +of his life, but he intended winning. He would not be beaten. + +Everybody in the vast audience watched the large clock as the fingers +crept slowly on, the large hand gradually drawing nearer to the +quarter-past. Bellshaw watched the struggle between man and horse with +absorbing interest. He knew what had been done, and that the horse +possessed demoniacal strength for the time being. + +Mrs. Prevost, her face white, her hands clutching nervously, watched +every movement in the ring; how she prayed for his safety, and for the +clock to point to a quarter-past nine. Never had she undergone such an +ordeal. It would be in her memory for the rest of her life. Supposing he +were killed? The horse seemed like some evil beast possessed of devils. +She almost shrieked as a mad plunge nearly unseated Leigh for the first +time, but he was still there. By some marvellous power he stuck to the +saddle and the battle went on. + +Glen Leigh knew the horse did not lose strength; rather had he gained it +during the last few minutes. It surprised him, but he had no time to +think. + +Lion stood on his forelegs, his head almost touching the ground, his +hind quarters straight up in the air. In this horizontal position he +twisted like an eel, trying to wriggle Glen on to his neck. He leaned +right back until his body was level with the horse's, then changing his +whip quickly, he hit backwards, bringing the heavy knob hard on the root +of the tail. This was too much for Lion. He came down on all fours and +Glen shot bolt upright. There was a tremendous cheer. It was a wonderful +piece of riding. + +"I've never seen such a devil of a horse," said Nick. "It seems to me +he's mad. I hope no harm will come to Glen." + +Bill was nervous. It was the first time he had felt such a sensation. He +turned to the bookmaker and said in a low voice, "It's my belief +somebody's doped that horse--given him a drug. He'd never go on like +that if he hadn't had something." + +"They'd hardly dare do that," answered Nick. + +"You don't know Bellshaw. He's capable of doing anything," returned +Bill. + +There was no time for more. Lion was at it again, fighting more +furiously during the last five minutes than he had done before. It was a +question of endurance. Would Glen Leigh last out? Once, twice, a third +time, he swayed in the saddle. A woman's cry echoed through the +building. It was Mrs. Prevost. She had to be held up in her seat. It was +only by exercising her will power to the uttermost that she recovered. + +Bellshaw stared at the strugglers with his eyes bulging. He looked at +the clock--four minutes, and Glen Leigh was well nigh dead-beat. Not one +person in that vast crowd thought the horse would throw him, but they +dreaded lest he should fall off exhausted. + +Three minutes and he still stuck on, but his grasp on the reins +loosened, and Lion, feeling this, redoubled his efforts. The fight was +terrific, too thrilling almost to witness. The horse possessed almost +miraculous strength. + +Two minutes, and for the next sixty seconds Lion bucked like a clockwork +machine until every bone in Glen's body felt like cracking. Only one +minute to the quarter and still Glen kept his seat. Half a minute more; +a great gasp came from the crowd as Glen sank forward, clasping the +savage brute with both arms round the neck, but he was still in the +saddle. He was not thrown. The position was one of grave danger for Lion +could reach his arms with his mouth. The horse stopped, panting, his +nostrils blood red, his eyes shooting fire; they gleamed angrily. + +"Get off," yelled Nick. + +"Get off," yelled Bill, and hundreds of voices took up the cry. A +shudder of horror passed through the huge crowd. Women fainted. Strong +men shook. Hundreds hid their faces. + +Lion, with a sudden swerve of his neck, got his teeth in Glen Leigh's +arm. The pain was terrible. The muscles burned like fire. He caught +sight of the clock. Only a second or two and he would win. Could he +stand it? Lion tore his arm, then tried to seize his leg, but Glen was +too quick for him. + +"Time!" + +A terrific shout. + +"Time!" shouted the frantic crowd, and as Glen Leigh heard it he rolled +out of the saddle in a dead faint; before anyone could rush up Lion +planted his fore feet on his chest and bent his head towards his face. + +"Shoot him! He'll tear his face," shouted Nick. + +"You can't. He's my horse," yelled Bellshaw. + +Bill rushed forward, an iron bar in his hand, and in the nick of time +brought it down on Lion's head with a mighty sweep. He dropped like a +log. Man and horse lay side by side in the ring. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +THE SWEEP WINNER'S HOME + + +Glen Leigh was taken to the Kangaroo and nursed by Mrs. Prevost. His +chest was crushed, his arm lacerated, but he made a wonderful recovery, +and in a week was removed to Sea View, Manley, where, needless to say, +he received every attention. + +The terrible fight between Glen and Lion was the topic of conversation +for several days. Many trainers who were present were firmly convinced +the horse had been drugged, or he would never have been so savage, or +possessed such strength and staying powers. Nothing however, was +discovered, and Sam Wimpole, in order to extract his money from +Bellshaw, had to threaten him with exposure. + +Glen was of this opinion. He, too, thought Lion had been dosed, but as +he won the wager he thought it best to make no enquiries. + +Craig Bellshaw was beaten. His temper was not improved. He heard Leigh +was at Manley, and decided to go and visit Mrs. Prevost. Some years ago, +when he was infatuated with her, he had made a will in her favour, +leaving her Mintaro and all the stock on it; this he decided to alter as +soon as possible. He would tell her when he reached the house. + +He landed from the boat, walking along the street to the sea-front. As +he turned in at the gate he looked up at the bedroom window. What he saw +caused a shock which almost deprived him of reason. He stood staring at +what he thought was the ghost of the woman he had left to die of hunger +and thirst. It was Clara looking out. She saw him enter. Her face +changed rapidly. The seat of memory was no longer vacant. She recognised +him, and with the recognition returned a flood of recollections. The +horror on her face made it look unearthly. She fixed her eyes on +Bellshaw with a glassy stare which he returned; he dare not move. Leigh +told him the woman was dead and this must be an apparition. + +What did it mean? + +Of one thing, in his confused state of mind, he was certain; he must fly +from the spot. But his feet were rooted to the ground, and he could not +take his eyes off. + +The woman swayed to and fro, pointed at him with her hand. Then suddenly +the thing vanished. She had fallen on to the floor in a dead faint. + +Bellshaw knew nothing of this--he was horrified. His mind gradually +became unhinged. He imagined the ghost disappeared suddenly in order to +come out to him, perhaps seize him. In his frenzy he attributed +supernatural strength to the apparition. It might carry him off, take +him away to some dreadful place. + +Bellshaw turned and fled, running along the sea-front like a madman, +then turning towards the landing stage; reaching it, as the steamer was +moving away, he ran on, and despite all the warning cries made a +desperate leap. His head struck the paddle box; the wheel spun him round +as he fell into the water. The boat stopped, assistance was at once +rendered, but Bellshaw had disappeared. After waiting a quarter of an +hour the captain left one of his men behind to report to the police, and +proceeded on his journey to Circular Quay. + +Craig Bellshaw's body was recovered later on in the day. His head having +struck the paddle box, he was rendered unconscious and he sank like a +stone. + +When Clara fell with a thud on the floor of the bedroom, Mrs. Prevost +rushed upstairs and found her insensible. A severe illness of some weeks +followed. When she recovered she remembered everything in her life at +Mintaro, and how she came to Glen Leigh's hut. It was a pitiful story, +and Glen Leigh, Mrs. Prevost, Bigs and Jim listened to it in sadness. As +a young girl she recollected being with Lin Soo. How he obtained +possession of her she had no idea. There were other girls about her own +age, and they were kindly treated for several years. + +Then one day she recollected Bellshaw coming to Lin Soo's. She did not +like him; she shrank from him when he touched her. She only had a hazy +idea of how she was taken to Mintaro. She must have been drugged in +some way. At first Bellshaw treated her kindly, doing all in his power +to ingratiate himself with her. She refused all his advances, and this +changed his whole actions towards her. He attempted to force her to his +will and failed. Garry Backham assisted her as far as he dare. He +smuggled a revolver into her room, and with this she felt safe. For a +long time her life was one constant, unceasing watchfulness. She dare +not sleep. When she dozed she awoke in a fright fearing Bellshaw was +near her. She shot at him once, wounding him in the arm. It was soon +after this he said he was tired of her and offered to drive her to +Bourke and send her to Sydney. + +She related what happened when they reached the water hole; how he +thrust her out of the buggy, sprang after her, and tried to push her +into the muddy water. She struggled, then fainted. When she came to +herself she was alone, lost in the great spaces surrounding her. She +struggled on for several days, until at last she staggered into Glen's +hut, and fell on his rough bed. + +In answer to questions she said she had no idea who her parents were, +nor did she seem to remember any home other than Lin Soo's. It could do +no good questioning her further, so the subject dropped. She explained +how she saw Bellshaw looking up at the window and he recognised her. +Glen expressed the opinion that Bellshaw must have thought he had seen a +ghost and the sight turned his brain. + +At the inquest held on him, death was stated to be caused by drowning, +and that this was brought about in the manner already described. Craig +Bellshaw's lawyer had his will. He came to Sea View. Great was Rosa +Prevost's surprise when she discovered that Mintaro and all the stock on +the station was her absolute property. Looking at the date of the will +she knew he must have forgotten to alter it until too late. She +consulted Glen Leigh as to whether she should take advantage of it, and +he left it entirely in her hands. The lawyer strongly advised her to +take over Mintaro as there were no direct heirs to it. This she decided +to do, more for Glen's sake than for her own. + + * * * * * + +Ten years had gone by since Bellshaw's death and other happenings. Glen +Leigh and his wife, Rosa Prevost, lived at Mintaro, where everything +prospered with them. They had five children, three boys and two girls, +all well grown and strong. + +The hands at Mintaro found Leigh a very different "boss" from Bellshaw. + +Garry Backham sold out at Boonara and came back to Mintaro as overseer, +and very glad he was to be there under such a master. Glen mustered all +the stock on the station and found thousands more cattle and sheep than +he anticipated. Many of the wild horses were shot, others tamed and used +on the station. He bought a small stud-farm near Albury, and sent horses +to be trained by Ivor Hadwin. There was a prospect of a successful year +before the stable at the end of five seasons when Glen had a score of +horses, most of them bred by himself, in training. The sweep money came +in very handy to run the station and tide over one or two bad seasons; +when rain and the good times came Mintaro cleared a fortune for them +every year. + +Jim Benny and his wife, the woman who suffered so much at Bellshaw's +hands, and whom Jim helped Glen Leigh to save, came to Mintaro, where +Clara acted as nurse and governess to all the children until such time +as the two elder boys went to school in Sydney; she then took charge of +the three at home, and Mrs. Leigh found her a great help and a genial +companion. + +It took a lot of persuasion to get her to come to Mintaro, of which she +had so many unpleasant memories, but eventually they prevailed when it +was pointed out how advantageous it would be for her husband. + +The show was sold as a going concern; Lion had to be shot; he never +recovered from the blow Bill gave him. A post-mortem was made at +Gerard's request and the veterinary surgeon said the horse had been +heavily dosed with a powerful drug, which undoubtedly caused him to be +in a frenzy in the ring when Glen rode him. + +Lin Soo was tackled by Glen and Bill Bigs, and compelled to pay a large +sum of money to Mrs. Benny in order to avoid criminal prosecution. +Moreover, he was forced by them to leave Sydney and return to his own +country. Chun Shan was installed as head cook at Mintaro, a position he +worthily filled. + +Sea View, Manley, was not sold; the Leighs used it as their residence on +visits to Sydney. + +It was a great day for Ivor Hadwin when he won the Sydney Cup for Glen +Leigh, whose white jacket, black belt and cap, were immensely popular. +Horatio was the horse, and, as he started at two to one, the enthusiasm +was immense. Later both the V.R.C., and A.J.C. Derbies fell to Glen's +share, and he had hopes of landing a Melbourne Cup with a son of +Barellan's, who was at the Albury Stud, and a most successful sire. + +Glen never forgot the keepers of the fence, and when he came to Mintaro +they soon discovered they had a friend in the man who had once been one +of themselves. Glen sometimes rode there and chatted with them, +rendering their lives less lonely. + +One day he drove his wife to the glittering wire and showed her where he +had stood for long hours in the terrible heat and drought. + +"What an awful life, Glen," she said, with a shudder. + +"I stood it all right," he replied, "but I was glad when it ended." + +When Barellan's son won the Melbourne Cup, Bill Bigs, pointing Glen +Leigh out to a friend, said, "He drew Barellan in the big sweep, and now +he's won it with his son." + +"That isn't likely to happen again," was the reply. + +"No, I don't suppose it is," said Bigs. + +Luke Nicholl came to Mintaro for a change, which he thoroughly enjoyed. +Jerry Makeshift came with him; both were heartily welcomed. + +"I shall never forget it was owing to you, Jerry, I bought the ticket in +the sweep, and drew the winner," said Glen. + +"You've made good use of the money, anyway," was Jerry's reply. + + + THE END + + JOHN LONG, LIMITED, PUBLISHERS, LONDON, 1920 BRISTOL BURLEIGH + LTD., AT THE BURLEIGH PRESS + + * * * * * + + + + + + + The Novels of CURTIS YORKE + + _Morning Post_: "Whether grave or gay, the author is a + _raconteur_ whose imagination and vivacity are + unfailing. Few, moreover, have in the same degree the + versatility which enables her to provoke peals of + laughter and move almost to tears. The writer is + natural, realistic, and entertaining." + + DELPHINE + ENCHANTED + ONLY BETTY + MISS DAFFODIL + OLIVE KINSELLA + WAYWARD ANNE + THEIR MARRIAGE + THE OTHER SARA + MOLLIE DEVERILL + THE GIRL IN GREY + THE WOMAN RUTH + ALIX OF THE GLEN + QUEER LITTLE JANE + IRRESPONSIBLE KITTY + DANGEROUS DOROTHY + THE WORLD AND DELIA + PATRICIA OF PALL MALL + THE GIRL AND THE MAN + THE VISION OF THE YEARS + A FLIRTATION WITH TRUTH + + _These Novels are published in various editions._ + _Prices from the Booksellers and Libraries._ + + London: + John Long, Ltd., 12, 13, 14 Norris Street, Haymarket + + + + + THE NOVELS OF NAT GOULD + THE AUTHOR WHOSE SALES EXCEED 20,000,000 COPIES + + Odds On + The Flyer + A Cast Off + The Roarer + The Smasher + Racing Rivals + [1]A Great Coup + One of a Mob + Lost and Won + The Head Lad + The Silver Star + Never in Doubt + A Straight Goer + A Bird in Hand + The Top Weight + The White Arab + The Buckjumper + The Lottery Colt + The Lucky Shoe + The Dapple Grey + Whirlwind's Year + Won on the Post + Fast as the Wind + At Starting Price + The Stolen Racer + The Steeplechaser + The Lady Trainer + A Stroke of Luck + A Northern Crack + A Bit of a Rogue + Left in the Lurch + Queen of the Turf + The Little Wonder + The Sweep Winner + Good at the Game + The Selling Plater + A Race for a Wife + A Reckless Owner + [1]A Turf Conspiracy + Charger and Chaser + A Sporting Squatter + [1]A Gamble for Love + [1]A Fortune at Stake + The Phantom Horse + A Member of Tatt's + The Rider in Khaki + Breaking the Record + The King's Favourite + A Chestnut Champion + The Jockey's Revenge + The Trainer's Treasure + The Pet of the Public + The Pick of the Stable + The Best of the Season + The Wizard of the Turf + A Hundred to One Chance + [1][2]The Chance of a Lifetime + [1] _FILMED_ [2] _DRAMATISED_ + + These Novels are published in various editions + Prices from the Booksellers and Libraries + + JOHN LONG, LIMITED, LONDON + Exclusive Publishers of all Mr. Nat Gould's New Novels + + + + +SOME APPRECIATIONS OF MR. NAT GOULD + +Among all lovers of sport the name of Nat Gould has become a household +word. As sportsman, journalist, and globe-trotter, few men have gone +through more varied experiences, and still fewer have used their +experience to such excellent purpose. Since Whyte Melville and the +immortal "Jorrocks" no writer has depicted with so spirited a pen the +romance of a racecourse, the surprises of the cricket-pitch, or the +hairbreadth escapes of the hunting-field. Writing in _Longman's +Magazine_, Mr. Andrew Lang said: "A Sixpenny Academy would be a lively +Academy. For President, I would, if consulted, select Mr. NAT GOULD, who +shines by a candid simplicity of style, and a direct and unaffected +appeal to the primitive emotions, and our love for that noble animal the +horse." + +_Nation_, 9th August, 1919:--"In the way of sale, his wares surpassed +all others. To millions they were the breath of mental life. We have +heard that a newspaper purchasing the serial rights of one of his +stories could promise itself an increased circulation of 100,000 a day, +no matter what its politics or its principles." + +_The Times_, 26th July, 1917:--"Of Mr. Nat Gould's novels more than Ten +Million[3] copies have been sold; and when this can be said of an author +there must be qualities in his work which appeal to human +nature--qualities, therefore, which even the most superior person would +do well to recognise. 'A Northern Crack' is one of those tales which set +you down in an arm-chair and keep you there till it is pleased to stop." + +_The Times_, 26th July, 1919:--"If art in any sphere in life finds a +basis in the pleasing of a multitude, then Nat Gould was an artist with +few above his shoulders." + +_Morning Post_, 26th July, 1919:--"He was the most widely read of all +modern story-tellers, and a genius in his downright way." + +_Athenæum_, June 10th, 1911:--"All living writers are headed by Mr. NAT +GOULD, and of the great of the past, Dumas only surpasses his +popularity." + +_Truth_, January 22nd, 1913:--"Who is the most popular of living +novelists? Mr. NAT GOULD easily and indisputably takes the first place." + +Miss BEATRICE HARRADEN, one of the Honorary Librarians to the Military +Hospital, Endell Street, London, writing in the November, 1916, issue of +the _Cornhill Magazine_, states: "We had to invest in any amount of NAT +GOULD's sporting stories. In fact, a certain type of man would read +nothing except NAT GOULD. However ill he was, however suffering and +broken, the name of NAT GOULD would always bring a smile to his face. +Often and often I've heard the whispered words: '_A Nat Gould--ready for +when I'm better_.'" + +[3] Since this was written ten million more copies have been sold to +December, 1919, totalling over Twenty Millions. + + * * * * * +Transcriber's Notes: + + Punctuation has been normalized. + Page 10: "more more than" replaced with "more than." + Page 71: "We'll make things gee" retained as printed. + Page 136: "too and fro" replaced with "to and fro." + Page 215: "No doubt it was Leigh who called" retained as printed. + Page 227: "suprised" replaced with "surprised." + Page 269: "convalesence" replaced with "convalescence." + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sweep Winner, by Nat Gould + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SWEEP WINNER *** + +***** This file should be named 36480-8.txt or 36480-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/4/8/36480/ + +Produced by paksenarrion, Suzanne Shell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Sweep Winner + +Author: Nat Gould + +Release Date: June 22, 2011 [EBook #36480] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SWEEP WINNER *** + + + + +Produced by paksenarrion, Suzanne Shell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="450" height="715" alt="Book Cover" title="" /> +<span class="caption">The Sweep Winner</span> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="ipagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p> +<h1 class="ititle">The Sweep Winner</h1> + + + + +<h1>The<br /> +Sweep Winner</h1> +<p><span class="ipagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> +<p class="venti">By<br /> +Nat Gould</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;"> +<img src="images/inset.png" width="150" height="222" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="grande">London<br /> +John Long, Limited<br /> +12, 13 & 14 Norris Street, Haymarket</p> +<p class="center"><i>All rights reserved</i></p> + + + + + + +<p class="center"><i>Readers are requested to note that all the characters in this story are +purely fictitious,<br /> and the names are not intended to refer to any real +person or persons.</i><span class="ipagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center"> TO THE MEMORY OF MY SON<br /> + <span class="smcap">Captain Herbert R. Gould, M.C., R.A.F.</span><br /> + FLIGHT COMMANDER, 18TH SQUADRON<br /> + <i>Killed in Action on the Western Front, August, 1918</i> +<span class="ipagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Table of Contents"> +<tr><td align="left" colspan="1"><i>Chapter</i></td><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><i>Page</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">I. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Glittering Wire</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">II. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">In the Hut</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_21">21</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">III. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Strange Situation</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_31">31</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">IV. </td><td align="left">"<span class="smcap">It's for a Woman</span>"</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_41">41</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">V. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Why Jim came to the Hut</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VI. </td><td align="left">"<span class="smcap">Come</span>"</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_61">61</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VII. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Face in the Water</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VIII. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Ways and Means</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_81">81</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">IX. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Chinaman's Shop</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_91">91</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">X. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Accusation</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_102">102</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XI. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Jerry, Journalist</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_113">113</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XII. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">In Search of Horses</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_123">123</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIII. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Leigh hears Strange Things</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_133">133</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIV. </td><td align="left">"<span class="smcap">A Magnificent Brute</span>"</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_143">143</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XV. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Big Show</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_153">153</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVI. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Prevost</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_163">163</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVII. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Jealousy</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_173">173</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVIII. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Question of Jockeys</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_183">183</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIX. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Prevost's Dilemma</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_194">194</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XX. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Drawer of Barellan</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_205">205</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXI. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Lame</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_215">215</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXII. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Sweep Money</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_225">225</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXIII. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Beaten</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_236">236</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXIV. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">At Flemington</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_247">247</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXV. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">He looked at his Ticket</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_257">257</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXVI. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Barellan Falls Back</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_268">268</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXVII. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">What a Finish!</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_279">279</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVIII. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Terrible Savage</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_288">288</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXIX. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Man and Horse lay Side by Side</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_299">299</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXX. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Sweep Winner's Home</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_311">311</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1>The Sweep Winner</h1> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>THE GLITTERING WIRE</h3> + +<p>A man on horseback shaded his eyes with his hands as he looked along the +glittering line of wire which runs for hundreds of miles between New +South Wales and Queensland, and forms the great rabbit-proof fence, of +which he was one of the keepers.</p> + +<p>The blazing sunlight scorched all things living. Not a blade of grass +was to be seen. The baked ground gasped with thirst. The slight breeze +was like the breath from a huge furnace.</p> + +<p>The wire was hot and dazzling. Millions of glimmering specks and +hundreds of thousands of electric sparks danced on it in revelry. Merely +to look at the shimmering wire blinded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> the eyes. The horse turned his +head away. He was dried, shrivelled, mere skin and bone. Yet he was +strong, enduring, capable of going long journeys; an heroic beast, +fighting a terrific battle against tremendous odds; a faithful +companion, a true friend—always reliable. There was a mute appeal in +his puzzled pathetic eyes, which questioned why such things were; why he +should be rewarded for his efforts with a parched throat, an empty +stomach, and a hot skin.</p> + +<p>The man dismounted, carelessly placing his hand on the wire, then +snatching it back quickly, with a sharp oath.</p> + +<p>"Everything burns in this cursed country," he muttered.</p> + +<p>The horse rubbed his nose against the man's arm.</p> + +<p>"Ping, old fellow, it's hotter than hell. Thirsty? of course; so am I. +We'll have to thirst until we reach the next hole."</p> + +<p>The man was strong, well-built, six feet high; even the hard life had +not sapped his strength. His dark hair, moustache, and beard, gave<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> him +a sombre appearance. His eyes shone fiercely under bushy brows. His +face, hands and arms were tanned a deep brown, as also was his chest, +where the shirt opened from the throat. He was no common man. His speech +was not that of the keepers of the fence, or the bulk of them, for there +were many and strange beings on these hundreds of miles of wire line. +The majority were old boundary riders, stockmen, tank sinkers, fencers, +teamsters. In another class were criminals, convicts and men whose hands +were against their fellows; who were dangerous sometimes, when they +scented betrayal, or suspected they were being tracked. The man looking +at the mirage in the distance belonged to none of these classes; he +stood out alone. They knew it, and gave him a show of respect, when they +met him, which was seldom.</p> + +<p>There must have been some weighty reason for him to bury himself in this +solitude, and to accept an occupation from which any educated man must +shrink. He wanted to be alone. He could not have come to a better +place.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> Boonara, the nearest bush town, was fifty miles away from where +he stood, and a dozen less from his hut.</p> + +<p>He descended upon Boonara at night, and waited for it to wake up. When +it did, surprise was visible on every face as one by one the inhabitants +looked forth from their habitation. The surprise was genuine. It was +long since a man of this stamp had entered Boonara. He was amused at the +people, and wondered if there was one respectably clean inhabitant. Then +he remembered the scarcity of water and pardoned the dirt. He was not +clean himself, but he felt wholesome. His body had been cared for as +much as possible during the week's tramp.</p> + +<p>He soon became acquainted with the Boonarites. They gathered round him, +and questions were levelled at him. It was quick firing to which he +responded with solitary shots. At the end of the first day the people of +Boonara were not a jot wiser about him. One fact was patent, he had +money. It was difficult to discover how much, but he "shouted" at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> Bill +Big's "shanty," and paid his footing, and was so far granted the freedom +of Boonara.</p> + +<p>The township of Boonara consisted of one main street, with irregular, +irresponsible-looking houses dotted about, built anyhow. They had been +put up at various times by many different sorts of men. Building +operations commenced at one end and continued at intervals until a sort +of street was formed. The first inhabitant had been a "keeper of the +fence," and he camped there because it was convenient to his work. +Gradually, in oddments, other men came to the place. It was a bachelor +township until some enterprising man, bolder than the rest, and more +saving, ventured to Sydney and returned with a wife. She was the only +woman in the township for a long time, and was regarded with a certain +amount of awe and wonder. The consensus of opinion was that she must +have had a terribly bad time in Sydney, or nothing would have induced +her to marry Jack and come to Boonara. The example set proved catching, +and other members of the bachelor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> community took unto themselves +partners. The township grew slowly, unlike the centres of big mining +districts which spring up mushroom-like in a night and often die away as +quickly.</p> + +<p>Boonara gathered in many of the keepers of the fence, who had tired of +the life and settled there on a mere pittance. It was not a prosperous +community; there was little conversation, and a lot of grumbling. Each +man regarded his neighbour with suspicion, not knowing who he was, +except by name, nor whence he came. All around Boonara was an arid +waste, except at certain seasons, few and far between, when rain came +sweeping in a deluge over the parched earth, filling up the gaping +cracks and crevices, hissing and swishing over the land, bringing life, +in every drop a new birth. Then the plains woke up. Miles upon miles of +dull-brown crumbling grassless spaces became green and refreshing. +Strange sights followed these deluges. In a mysterious manner sheep +appeared in thousands wandering across the plains, nibbling this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +wonderful and succulent food from which they had been so long debarred. +Cattle came, mobs of horses, all branded, belonging to squatters miles +away. Nobody seemed to own the land round Boonara. At least no member of +the township had ever heard the name of an owner mentioned. They ran +what cattle, horses and sheep they possessed anywhere on it. There were +no enclosures, no square-mile paddocks. The only fence was the +glittering wire running along the border.</p> + +<p>There were very few men in the township who had seen the wire fence. But +they met the keepers of it at long intervals when they paid visits to +Bill's shanty.</p> + +<p>In all communities, however small, there is a fierce desire to look down +upon someone, to imagine a superiority. It is a trait which is +laughable, and sometimes pathetic. Although the Boonarites were far from +civilisation they had their pride, and regarded the keepers of the fence +as beings of an inferior order. As the keepers had no respect for the +inhabitants, everybody seemed satisfied with the state of affairs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> + +<p>There was one keeper of the fence whom the Boonarites placed upon an +equality with themselves, and that was the man who came upon them in the +night.</p> + +<p>They were amazed when he went on the glittering wire track. He was far +too good for that job; "he wouldn't stick it long" they declared. He did +"stick it," however, to their great surprise. The man was a mystery to +them, which is not to be wondered at, considering he was mostly a puzzle +to himself. His hut was forty miles away, and only three people had +visited him there. He did not encourage them. Loneliness sat lightly +upon him, so it seemed. Bill Bigs was the most frequent visitor, and +when he rode there, or drove in his buggy, it was seldom empty-handed. +Somewhere, hidden in the bowels of the earth beneath Bill's shanty, +there was mysteriously reported to be spirituous hoards of excellent +quality; these rarely saw the light of day in Boonara. Various +decoctions were served out over the bar, and there was a strange +resemblance in the flavour, no matter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> from which bottle they were +taken. A "nip" from one of Bill's underground bottles was like nectar +from the gods.</p> + +<p>The man on the fence was never served with inferior stuff, and when Bill +visited him he took with him of his best.</p> + +<p>Bill Bigs was rough and ready. Rumour credited him with having been in +league with bushrangers, before those undesirable and romantic figures +disappeared from the earth. Probably this was true, but Ben was no +longer an illegitimate preyer upon mankind. He was licensed to "rob" by +doctoring his goods. He prided himself on knowing a man when he saw one, +and he put down the occupier of the hut in this category. He, however, +knew nothing about his friend, except that he was worth a dozen ordinary +fence keepers. The man never spoke of his past, or explained why he was +in the most solitary place in this vast land. In vain Bill tried to +induce him to talk. There was a threatening glitter in his eyes which +caused Bill to halt and get on to another track. It was this man, the +keeper of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> fence, who stood under the blazing sun pitying his horse +more than himself. He was waiting for another keeper at the point where +they had met, and had a few words and parted. He shaded his eyes again, +but saw no one coming.</p> + +<p>"I'll wait, I'm always waiting. It hasn't worn me out; it never will. +There's a fire within that keeps me alive; it burns, but never dies +down. There's enough fuel in my thoughts to keep it glowing until my +light goes out."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>IN THE HUT</h3> + + +<p>Glen Leigh was his name. At least he was down as such on the books, but +names were not of much account on his job; they might as well have been +numbers seeing they were mere indications of identity. He waited until +he was tired, although he had much patience. His throat was parched; his +skin burned; there was no shade. On his head, straight down, poured the +fierce sun. To look at it was blinding. It seared the eyes; sparks +danced when they turned to the earth again. He had no watch. In his hut +there was one, but he seldom wound it. He told the time by nature's +signs, and was never far out in his calculations.</p> + +<p>"I've waited an hour. Damn the fellow. Why doesn't he come? He expects +me to do his work and my own too." He shrugged<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> his shoulders. Jim Benny +was a mere lad compared with him.</p> + +<p>"Poor young devil. What's he done that he should come to this? The sins +of the father, and so on."</p> + +<p>A shadow flitted across the ground. He started. This was not a land of +shadows, except when rain clouds swept away the dazzling blue. He looked +around, then above. There was a small black cloud floating in the +brilliant sky; it looked like a balloon.</p> + +<p>"Rain!" he exclaimed. "By all that's holy, rain."</p> + +<p>There was a power of feeling in the word.</p> + +<p>"Rain."</p> + +<p>In lands where skies are dull, where moisture hangs in the air, where a +downpour spoils pleasure and provokes temper, the word rain has a very +different meaning. To Glen Leigh rain meant almost everything. There had +been none for over nine months, not a drop, and that small balloon-like +cloud that cast its shadows and startled him, was more welcome than a +shower of gold.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's curious," he muttered, "I've never seen it exactly like this. But +it must mean rain. God send it. We want it, we dried up sapless things. +Rain, Ping. Do you hear, old parchment, rain. And your coat'll be +dripping wet. There'll be grass, and you'll feel juice in your mouth +instead of dried leaves and twigs. Rain, Ping, rain!"</p> + +<p>He gave the horse a sound smack, jerked up his head, and pointed to the +cloud rolling above.</p> + +<p>A slight breeze came. Ping sniffed, inhaling it with delight, while an +anxious look of anticipation came into his eyes.</p> + +<p>Glen watched the cloud as though his life depended on it, as thousands +of lives did. It was a peculiar phenomenon, a black patch steering +through a sea of blue. In its wake it left a trail, dull, streaking out, +and beyond the trail were more heavy clouds on the rain path. This +leader was the herald of the storm.</p> + +<p>There was no moan, there was nothing to cause it, but presently the wire +fence seemed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> to buzz, and the rising wind came through it playing on +the strings a sort of sad harmony, but sweet music in the ears of the +man and horse.</p> + +<p>A low rumbling sound proclaimed the advance of the clouds, and they +rolled along in battalions blotting out the sunlight; the relief to the +eyes was immense. He waited, but Jim Benny did not come. He almost +forgot about him in his anxiety over the approaching rain.</p> + +<p>A crack straight above his head, which echoed over the plain, was +followed by a burst of water which deluged him and Ping in a few +minutes. Both gasped with relief. They opened their mouths, and the +refreshing water cooled them; they had not had such a soaking for +months. The land responded to the rain. He fancied he saw the blades of +grass already shooting; he knew they would be there in a matter of +twenty-four hours. He mounted Ping and rode to his hut. It was no use +waiting any longer for Jim Benny; he would see him next day. Still he +wondered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> what had come to him, and felt a bit uneasy. He liked Jim, +although he seldom spoke more than a few words to him. Perhaps it was +the mystery surrounding him which appealed to him; he was a mysterious +man himself.</p> + +<p>The rain poured down as he rode along. Ping's ambling pace soon covered +the ground, and he reached his hut in a shorter time than usual.</p> + +<p>The door was wide open. Someone had been there in his absence. He +smiled; the intruder would not have had a very rich find. A few of his +provisions might be gone; the poor devil was welcome to that.</p> + +<p>He was always cautious, for he was accustomed to face danger. There was +no telling what sort of desperate, hunted character had found his way +there, so he handled his revolver as he went in. Lying on his bunk he +saw a bundle of clothes, or what looked like it. Quietly he stepped up, +then started back in amazement. It was no sundowner, not even a man from +Boonara, out on the jag, who had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> wandered in a half-frenzied condition +so many miles. What he saw was a woman, a young, pretty woman, whose +face was lined with sorrow, whose cheeks were sunken. The hands were +hanging down, thin, almost emaciated, showing the veins, a dull blue. +One leg drooped down the side. The boot was worn, and torn. The dress +over it was ragged. Her whole appearance denoted the utmost distress, +hardship, exhaustion. She hardly breathed, although he saw her bosom +slightly heave and fall. She was in a pitiable plight indeed.</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh was so wonder-struck at this strange sight that he stood +staring at her for some time, until Ping roused him by poking his head +in at the door, asking in his dumb way for food. Even the woman, lying +so strangely there, did not cause him to delay. Ping was a good comrade; +he must be attended to. He went round to the back of the hut, where +there was a lean-to shed, and Ping followed him. There was a little +precious hay still left, which he had secured for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> horse at Boonara +at a fabulous price, panning out, if reckoned up, at about a hundred +pounds a ton. It had been brought down the river on one of the puffing, +snorting, little steamers, and deposited at the small staging, to be +left till called for, and fetched by Bill Bigs at his leisure. Ping +sniffed this small portion of evil-smelling stuff with satisfaction. He +had never known better fare, for he had been bred in the wilds, and +brought up anyhow, on anything. His dam had very little milk for him; +she had nothing to make it with. When his dam deserted him, or he left +her to go on his own, he wandered about, living precariously until he +was six years old. Then some master on two legs caught him, and Ping +began to learn the effects of contact with humanity. Ping's life had not +been a happy one until he passed into Glen Leigh's hands. With the +wisdom of the horse he discovered the great change in ownership, and +wondered at it. He followed Leigh about like a dog; there was no +bucking, biting, squealing, kicking against the pricks. He settled down +to a humdrum existence with a feeling of glorious content.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> + +<p>As Glen Leigh stood for a few moments eyeing Ping he compared him with +the woman lying in his hut. There was a similarity between their lives. +Both had been ill-used, and both came into his possession. Into his +possession? What on earth was he to do with the woman? Ping was all +right. He had bought him for a trifle. But the woman. It was quite a +different thing. She was in his hut, and part of his household for the +night. What must he do with her?</p> + +<p>"Eat your supper, Ping. I'll go and see to the other one," he said, and +went back to his "front door."</p> + +<p>He entered softly. She was still sleeping. He sat down on a log and +watched her.</p> + +<p>How had she come there? She must have tramped miles. From Boonara of +course, but he did not remember seeing her there. He smiled at the +thought. He seldom gave more than a passing glance to people in the +township. He was hardly likely to have noticed her sufficiently to +recognise her now. If she came from Boonara, why had she left<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> the place +and wandered all these miles? Was it by chance she had struck his hut? +Of course, it must have been. No doubt she saw the rainstorm coming, and +seeing the hut at the same time hurried in for shelter.</p> + +<p>She was not an ordinary working-woman, he saw that, and cudgelled his +brains to find out how she came into the country at all.</p> + +<p>She must belong to somebody, but to whom?</p> + +<p>He knew of women who had lost their reason in solitudes, and had not +wondered at it. The country was only fit for blacks, and even they +shunned it, the few of them that were left after the white man's march. +Had she come along with some squatter, when he had been making a visit +to Bathurst, or Bourke, or even Sydney or Melbourne? That was a possible +solution, but highly improbable. There was only one large station near +enough to this place, from which she could have tramped. Its owner was +Craig Bellshaw, of Mintaro Station, and he was not the sort of man to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +drive a woman away by ill-treatment, quite the contrary.</p> + +<p>She stirred. He listened. She was muttering, but he could not catch the +words. He got up and leaned over her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>A STRANGE SITUATION</h3> + + +<p>He could make nothing of what she said. It was a jumble of incoherent +sounds, with no meaning in them. He gathered no information as to how +she came there.</p> + +<p>"She's ill—delirious. What can I do for her?" he muttered.</p> + +<p>He was a soft-hearted man, where women were concerned, and distress, +although he had seen much of it, appealed to him. There were no doctors, +not even in Boonara. When folks were ill in those parts they had to +fight for life as best they could, with a few patent remedies to aid +them.</p> + +<p>"Fever," he said, "there's no doubt about it, and she has no strength to +withstand it. I can't leave her alone. I wish to heaven Bigs, or +someone, would come."</p> + +<p>He sat by her all night; sometimes he had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> to hold her down, as she +struggled like a bird in his strong grasp. He was very gentle with her. +Not one man in a hundred would have credited him with such tenderness. +When daylight sprang out suddenly, as it does in these climes, she +became quieter. He put his hand on her breast, humming softly. The touch +and the sound soothed her. With wonderful patience he remained in this +position hour after hour, proving himself a great man, greater than he +ever thought or reckoned himself to be. He was hungry, but he did not +move. Ping came to the door and wondered why his wants were left +unattended. It was unusual. He would have resented it had not the +downpour brought up small shoots of green, with marvellous suddenness. +He turned away and went nibbling the unaccustomed luxuries. Ping came to +the door instinctively. Grass was a thing he had not seen for months. He +didn't expect to find it, but as he sniffed its freshness he left the +hut contentedly, and Leigh was glad.</p> + +<p>"He smells the grass," he thought, "There's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> more chance of her pulling +through now it's cooler." He mixed up the horse and the woman in his +thoughts continually. How long he sat there he did not know, but a sound +reached him which gave warning that something or someone was +approaching. Ping neighed. He knew if it was a rider he would call at +his hut. They always paid "ceremonial" visits; it was an event in their +lives. A sound of hoofs reached him. It was very welcome; he gave a sigh +of relief. He looked round, and saw a horse and rider pull up at his +door. It was Jim Benny. At any other time Benny would have been cursed +roundly for neglecting his work. Curses were the habitual mode of +forcibly expressing disapproval by the men of the fence. But never was +man more heartily welcome. Glen Leigh didn't even give a thought as to +why Jim Benny came to his hut. It was an uncommon occurrence but he had +no time to consider it.</p> + +<p>Jim grinned as he put his head in at the door. He was about to speak +when he grasped the situation, as far as it was possible<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> for him to so +do, lacking all knowledge of the facts.</p> + +<p>He was much surprised, as Glen Leigh had been, when he found the woman +in his hut.</p> + +<p>"Hush," said Glen softly, and Jim crept in on tiptoe.</p> + +<p>He stood looking at the woman. His thoughts were much the same as +Glen's. The white wan face struck a chord in Jim Benny's nature that had +not twanged before. His eyes glistened, then moisture gathered. +Presently a couple of drops trickled down his sunburnt face. He put a +hand on Glen's shoulder, bent down, and whispered, "How did she come +here?"</p> + +<p>Glen shook his head.</p> + +<p>"She's bad?"</p> + +<p>"Fever."</p> + +<p>"Poor little thing," said Jim.</p> + +<p>Glen lifted his hand from her bosom. She only stirred slightly, then +with a sigh became still again. He beckoned Jim to follow him outside. +They walked a few yards away, so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> that the sound of their voices would +not disturb her.</p> + +<p>"Where the devil were you yesterday?" was Glen's question.</p> + +<p>"My horse broke down. I had to bag another, and a pretty brute he is. +Look at him," replied Jim pointing to the wretched mass of skin and +bone.</p> + +<p>"Why have you come here?" asked Glen.</p> + +<p>"I thought I'd ride over and explain. I know what you are when you're in +a temper," replied Jim.</p> + +<p>"That's not the reason."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it isn't. Anyhow, what about her?" and he pointed to the hut.</p> + +<p>"Somebody must go to Billy's and get some good brandy for her. It's got +to be the best—none of his poison," said Glen.</p> + +<p>"In that case you'd better go. It's no good me trying it. He'd think I +was lying, and there'd be no getting it out of him. I'll stay with her +if you go. Besides my horse is no good. Ping will do the journey in half +the time," Jim answered.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p> + +<p>Glen looked at him. Jim's face did not move a muscle.</p> + +<p>"It's lucky you came," Glen remarked. "Tell me what brought you here."</p> + +<p>"Another time," replied Jim hesitatingly.</p> + +<p>Glen shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"As you please," he said.</p> + +<p>"How did she get here?" asked Jim.</p> + +<p>Glen told him how he found her, and Jim Benny was as helpless as himself +in solving the problem.</p> + +<p>"It's very strange," said Jim. "We've never seen a woman round here +before. What are you going to do with her?"</p> + +<p>"Keep her until she's pulled round. Then I can find out all about her," +returned Glen.</p> + +<p>A faint cry came from the hut which caused them to turn round quickly +and run back. A strange, weird sight met their eyes. The woman was +standing close to the bed. Her hair was down. They noticed it was a +beautiful nut-brown, and there was plenty of it. Her arms were stretched +out. Her eyes stared glassily. As Glen came in she tottered forward, and +he caught her in his arms.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> + +<p>A thrill went through him as he clasped her. Her face was close to his. +He felt her breath on his cheek. He drew her tightly towards him, and +held her for several minutes. Jim Benny watched him with a queer light +in his eyes.</p> + +<p>Glen carried her, laying her on his rough bed. She was exhausted with +the exertion and remained quite still.</p> + +<p>"You'd better go at once," said Jim, "she's bad, very bad."</p> + +<p>Glen stood thinking for a few minutes, then asked, "You'll not leave her +while I'm gone?"</p> + +<p>"No, I'll sit by her as I found you sitting. See?" and he sat on the +log, placing his hand on her breast. "That'll soothe her."</p> + +<p>Without another word Glen Leigh left the hut.</p> + +<p>He whistled Ping, and obediently the horse came to his call. Glen +saddled him, and rode off towards Boonara. Jim Benny sat looking at the +woman. He heard the hoof beats gradually dying away, then with a sudden +movement got up and kissed her on the lips. She moaned.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I couldn't help it. I meant no harm. She reminded me of—never mind +names. I loved her, and she married him—that's all done with."</p> + +<p>He remained quite still until Spotty, Glen's dog, half dingo, came +sniffing round. He had been on the prowl for a day or so, and returned +repentant. The predatory instinct was uppermost, which was not to be +wondered at considering the wild stock from which he descended, and he +made excursions to some land of which his master knew nothing.</p> + +<p>The dog knew Jim, on the fence, but had not seen him in Glen's hut. Then +there was the woman. Spotty had never come across one. Jim knew the +nature of these dogs, their faithful savageness, and scented danger in +the air. He had seen the dog on the fence with Glen, but had always been +on horseback, and Spotty had never really scented him. He didn't even +know the dog's name.</p> + +<p>Spotty eyed Jim, then looked at the woman on the bed. Here was something +he did not understand. He came forward, crouching,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> like a panther ready +to spring, and Jim set him with his eyes, not daring to move, on her +account.</p> + +<p>Spotty sniffed at her dress, turned round, faced Jim and growled, a low +rumbling sound. Then he lay on the floor, paws outstretched, head erect, +watching.</p> + +<p>Jim knew if he moved the dog would probably fly at his throat. It would +be hours before Leigh returned, and he must remain in this position the +whole time, on her account. Had he been alone he could have cowed +Spotty, or attempted it. He heard distant thunder. There was another +storm brewing, the promise of more welcome rain. The lightning flashed +through the hut, playing in and out at the doors. The crashing sounds +came nearer; then the rain burst in torrents.</p> + +<p>Spotty did not move. He remained with his eyes on Jim, not even giving a +glance at the figure on the bed. The woman slept through it all. Jim +wondered at her strange stillness. Was she dead?</p> + +<p>The thought made him start. He had not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> put his hand on her again after +he kissed her, and could not feel or hear her breath. Spotty saw him +move, and growled. He seemed about to spring, then crouched again.</p> + +<p>It was a strange situation—the man, the woman, and the dog, in the hut, +the storm raging outside, and Glen Leigh riding on his mission to +Boonara.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>"IT'S FOR A WOMAN"</h3> + + +<p>"Hello, what brings you here?" said Bill Bigs, as Glen Leigh entered his +house. The tone was not encouraging. Bill was in an ill-humour, and it +was not difficult to discover the cause. The bar was in a state of wild +confusion. Broken bottles, bits of wood, splinters from the rough +furniture, and jagged pieces of glass lay about. There was every sign of +a fight.</p> + +<p>Glen took it all in at a glance. Although he was in a desperate hurry he +knew the best way to succeed would be by humouring him.</p> + +<p>"Bit of a skirmish, eh?" began Glen.</p> + +<p>"Two of your fence fellows began it. I never saw such beasts in my life. +They all are."</p> + +<p>Glen's eyes glittered.</p> + +<p>"Does that include me?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No. I can't say it does, but there's no telling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> what may happen. +You'll break out some day. Flesh and blood can't stand your job," +replied Bill.</p> + +<p>Here was an opening. Glen was holding himself in leash wonderfully well. +All the time he was thinking, "What's she doing? What's he doing?"</p> + +<p>He wanted to hurry back. Ping would have to hustle when he made a start.</p> + +<p>"You're right," he agreed, "if it wasn't for a nip of your good stuff +now and again, Bill, I'd go under."</p> + +<p>"I see. So that's what you're here for. Well, I can't gratify you this +time. I've run out."</p> + +<p>Bill was husbanding his resources; it was his habit. Glen knew there was +a tough job before him.</p> + +<p>"I must have some of the best, Bill, I'm run down," persisted Glen.</p> + +<p>Bill laughed.</p> + +<p>"Must have it? I like that. Look around. Do you think I'm going to stand +that sort of thing from your fellows without paying somebody<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> out? As +you happen to have come along first I'll pay you out. You'll get nothing +from me to-day."</p> + +<p>"I must have it, Bill. I'll pay double price for it."</p> + +<p>"When?"</p> + +<p>"In a month. I can't do it now."</p> + +<p>"A month! Six months you mean, and then it's uncertain."</p> + +<p>"Not with me."</p> + +<p>"I'll not deny you're a good payer, and straight, but you've got to +suffer for the sins of others. You're one of 'em," returned Bill.</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh leaned over the counter, his face close to Bill's.</p> + +<p>"If you knew what I wanted it for you'd give it me without payment," he +said.</p> + +<p>Bill looked hard at him. Glen's face was quivering. His mouth twitched. +His eyes glared. He was thinking of the woman. How should he get the +brandy if Bill persisted in refusing, for he meant having it at any +cost?</p> + +<p>"What's it for?"</p> + +<p>"I can't tell you. I will before long, but not now."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then it's a fake. You want it for yourself."</p> + +<p>"I do not."</p> + +<p>He fancied he could hear her moaning, becoming restless, and if he got +what he wanted and hurried back she might have a chance. It exasperated +him.</p> + +<p>"Why not tell me the reason?" asked Bill, fairly enough.</p> + +<p>"There's somebody ill in my hut."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's it, one of your mates. Do you think I'm going to help him +after last night's work? Not me."</p> + +<p>Glen wanted to conceal that it was a woman, but he was wasting precious +time. Could Bill be trusted to keep it to himself? He had no desire for +the township to know until he had found out all about her.</p> + +<p>"It's not one of my mates. I'd not ask it for him after that," and he +waved his hand round. "You'll not say a word, but keep it dark?"</p> + +<p>"It depends on what it is you tell me."</p> + +<p>"I can't tell you. Bill, we've been what folks call friends, as far as +it goes here. Promise<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> me. It's a matter of life and death. You'll not +be sorry. You'll have done a good action, and saved a life."</p> + +<p>Bill saw he was in deadly earnest. He knew Glen Leigh had always gone +straight with him.</p> + +<p>"Out with it then. I'll promise, so help me I will, but I don't say I'll +let you have what you want."</p> + +<p>Glen saw he was yielding. Again his thoughts went back to his hut, and +he groaned at the loss of time.</p> + +<p>"It's for a woman. She's got fever, and is delirious. She'll die if she +doesn't have some stimulant. For God's sake, Bill, let me have it."</p> + +<p>Bill stared at him. There was a genuine, even pathetic ring in his +voice. But a woman! He couldn't be expected to swallow that yarn.</p> + +<p>"Where is she?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"In my hut."</p> + +<p>Bill laughed. He couldn't help it. The thing was so ridiculous.</p> + +<p>"Who's the lady?" he asked with a grin.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> + +<p>Leigh's hands clenched. He was becoming dangerous.</p> + +<p>"I haven't time to tell you lies. I don't know who she is, or where she +comes from. All I can say is I found her in there lying on my shakedown, +dying," and he told the whole story as rapidly as possible to the +astonished Bill.</p> + +<p>"It's as true as gospel, and Jim Benny's with her waiting my return. +Think of the time I've wasted here. I may be too late. Ping's none too +fast, but he's sure. For heaven's sake, Bill, let me have it, and some +tinned stuff, soup, anything you've got. There's nothing at my place for +her."</p> + +<p>He spoke rapidly, excitedly. He was strung to the highest pitch as he +thought how long he had already been away.</p> + +<p>"It's the rummiest yarn I ever heard, but I don't see as how you could +make it up. I wonder who she is?"</p> + +<p>"That's what I've got to find out. If she dies, her secret goes with +her. Help to save her, then we'll get to know," begged Glen.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> + +<p>Bill thought of his girl at work in Adelaide. Supposing she was in such +a plight? The mere idea made him shiver.</p> + +<p>"I'll do it, Glen. Damn it, man, if you'd outed with it at first the +thing would have been settled in five minutes."</p> + +<p>He disappeared. Glen knew if he had fired the story at him straight away +it would not have been believed at all. Bill also knew it as he dived +into the bowels of the earth beneath his bar.</p> + +<p>"He's worked me cleverly," he muttered. "He saw I was cut up rough when +he came in, and he handled me well. It's a queer go, a very queer go, +but I believe him. He's not given to lying, and in any case I can go and +see for myself in a day or two. If he's put up a game on me, I'll—No, +he'd never do it. He's too much of a man. And his face! It might be his +sweetheart the way he looked."</p> + +<p>Bill was rummaging about. Selecting two bottles he took them with him. +As he went back through his storeroom, he collected some tinned milk, +soup, and biscuits.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> + +<p>He packed them all carefully so that there would be no risk of breakage, +then went back to the bar.</p> + +<p>Two men had come in during his absence. One was "on the fence," and as +usual they had selected a bottle of alleged whisky, and were helping +themselves. Glen had refused to join them. He was called a sullen +bounder.</p> + +<p>"Get out of this," yelled Bill when he saw the rider on the fence. +"You're one of the devils who caused all this mess."</p> + +<p>"I'll pay for it—at least my share," answered the man.</p> + +<p>"Then out with it," said Bill, putting his package down.</p> + +<p>Glen eyed it greedily. He ought to have had it an hour ago and been well +on his way back to the hut. Here was more delay. Would she be alive? +Would she be alive? Was Jim with her? Yes, he'd wait. He was sure of it.</p> + +<p>The man pulled out some greasy pound-notes and handed Bill a couple.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's more'n my whack. It'll have to stand good for this," and he +placed his hand on the bottle.</p> + +<p>"And mind, if I see any signs of strife brewing you'll not get away so +easily next time," warned Bill, as he stuffed the dirty notes in his +pocket, only too glad to get anything in payment for the damage.</p> + +<p>He beckoned to Glen, picked up the package and went outside.</p> + +<p>"You'll find all you want here; at least as much as I can give you."</p> + +<p>"I'll never forget it, Bill. One of these days I may be able to do you a +good turn. I'll see you are paid in full, and more."</p> + +<p>"Never mind about that. It's something to my credit that I've faith +enough in a man to believe such a dodgasted yarn as you've spun me."</p> + +<p>"You do believe it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Shake. You'll not mind me driving over? I'll not come +empty-handed, and not to act the spy, but it's such a stretcher that I'd +just like to see for myself."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> + +<p>Glen smiled as he mounted Ping, and Bill handed him the parcel.</p> + +<p>"I can't wonder at it. I can hardly believe it myself. Come and see. +You'll be welcome. You always are, but not a word to a soul."</p> + +<p>"I'll keep it dark, you bet. I'm with you in finding out all about her. +It'll be a bit of a change from that filthy work," and he jerked his +thumb in the direction of the bar.</p> + +<p>As Glen was riding away, the man who had paid Bill the two notes rushed +out and yelled, "Expect you've not heard that Joe Calder's been found +shot dead on his track!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>WHY JIM CAME TO THE HUT</h3> + + +<p>Joe Calder shot dead on his track!</p> + +<p>Glen had no time to waste or he would have gone back to hear more. He +must hurry on. Ping felt there was need for haste. His master seldom +pushed him as he was doing now.</p> + +<p>Joe Calder done for at last! Glen had warned him it would come some day, +for the man was a brute. He had no human feeling, and how he earned +promotion over his fellows was one of those things no man could +understand.</p> + +<p>Glen was overseer on his track, as Joe Calder was on the other, and the +two men often met, but they were as wide apart as the poles in every +respect.</p> + +<p>Calder was a sneak. The men under him hated him. More than one +threatened to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> do for him, but he was a big powerful man, and dangerous. +He was one of the worst characters, and when he went to Boonara even +Bill Bigs fought shy of him. There was no doubt he was a criminal. His +face, his shifty eyes, the backward glances, his fear of being followed +and tracked down betrayed it. But he must have had a friend somewhere, +or he would never have got his post.</p> + +<p>Glen was surprised, and yet he was not. The news was shot at him +unexpectedly, but he believed it, and wondered who had rid the world of +a scoundrel, and the track of a desperate man. Ping travelled well, his +head bound for home, such as it was, and every horse knows the way to +his stable. Mile after mile was traversed, until Glen saw a faint speck +in the distance and knew it was his hut. A townsman would have seen +nothing, but Glen's eyes were used to looking long distances, and were +almost as powerful as a glass in distinguishing objects.</p> + +<p>"Go on, Ping. We'll soon be there," and the horse put on another spurt.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> + +<p>The tension in the hut was not relaxed for a moment. Hour after hour +passed, and still the dog stood on guard and eyed Jim. If the man moved +there came an ominous growl.</p> + +<p>Two or three times the woman groaned, and Spotty pricked his ears +wonderingly. Such sounds were unfamiliar. Jim watched him. The dog +seemed half inclined to spring on the bed. Thinking better of it he +settled down again with his eyes fixed as before.</p> + +<p>A drowsy feeling crept over Jim. He was fearful of going to sleep. He +had been sitting like a statue for the Lord knows how long and he had no +idea of the time.</p> + +<p>He listened. Not a sound, except a few melancholy notes from a passing +bird. What was Glen doing all this time? He had promised to watch, but +Glen had not promised to come back. Jim's mind was in a chaotic state, +and he was hardly responsible for it.</p> + +<p>Spotty pricked his ears. Jim accepted this as a sign that he heard +something, and listened intently.</p> + +<p>The dog gave a short, sharp bark, a true signal this time.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> + +<p>In his great sense of relief Jim stood up. He could bear the strain no +longer.</p> + +<p>Spotty flew at him, straight at his throat. Jim caught him with both +hands and held him, the dog growling, snarling, trying to wrench himself +free to bite his hands. Jim held on. He heard the hoof-beats. It was +Glen returning and all would be well, but he was tired and cramped with +the strain, and Spotty was a ferocious dog, and strong.</p> + +<p>The woman moved and half sat up; then she sank back again. He was +thankful.</p> + +<p>Ping halted. Glen got out of the saddle with the precious burden and +strode into the hut. Unstrung as he was, the sight that met his gaze +caused him to drop the package. With a cry of despair he caught at it, +just breaking its fall.</p> + +<p>Spotty, seeing his master, ceased struggling. Jim let go his hold and +fell on the floor in a dead faint.</p> + +<p>"Get out," almost yelled Glen, and the dog shot through the opening like +a fox bolting from hounds, dashing under Ping's belly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> and scouring +across country at top speed. Yet he had only guarded his master's hut, +and his doggy brain resented the injustice.</p> + +<p>Glen opened the package before attending to Jim. There was no damage +done, and he had never felt so like offering up a prayer +before—supposing, after all, he had gone through, the precious bottles +had broken? He knelt down beside Jim, summing up the situation, and +wondering how long he had been subjected to the strain caused by the +dog. Opening one of the bottles, he poured a small quantity down Jim's +throat, being careful not to spill a drop.</p> + +<p>Presently Jim sat up, looked round in a dazed way, and then seeing Glen +said, "It was a near go. The dog watched me for hours. I dared not move +for fear he would savage me or her, but when I heard you coming I could +stand it no longer. I got up, and he flew at me. She's been like that +ever since you left. What have you brought?"</p> + +<p>"Many things, but I'd a job to work round Bill. There'd been a row in +his shanty. Two<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> of your fellows smashed things up, and he was in a +towering rage. Fetch some water. It's funny we can get it nice, cool, +clean and fresh. We haven't done that for months, have we?"</p> + +<p>As he spoke he was busy with the package placing the things carefully on +the floor. Bill had made amends after all, and opened his heart. He was +a dashed good sort, and should be repaid.</p> + +<p>Jim staggered out for the water. The tank was overflowing into sundry +water-catchers. It was far too precious to waste, although many times +the quantity would have been used to wash up after a single meal in a +big hotel.</p> + +<p>Glen made the mixture weak, then, taking a bit of rag, he moistened her +lips with it, squeezing a little into her mouth.</p> + +<p>He was glad she was alive. A tremendous sense of relief came over him, +and with it relaxation from the strain he too had gone through. He could +have lain down on the floor and slept for many hours.</p> + +<p>"Get some rest, Jim. You need it," he said.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not so much as you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, your struggle was greater than mine. Sleep, man; then you can +watch when I give up."</p> + +<p>Jim lay down. He was in a dead slumber in a minute or two.</p> + +<p>Glen sat looking at the woman. A slight colour came into her cheeks, her +lips were not so blue, a warmth spread over her body; he could feel it +as he touched her bare arm. Then a curious thing happened. He bent down +and kissed her, not like Jim Benny, on the lips, but on her forehead, +reverently, tenderly, like a father would a child—and he was the most +reckless rider on the fence. Both men were among the legion of the lost, +why was only known to themselves, but they had given this woman what +many a one of her sex in a great city would have been thankful +for—human kindness.</p> + +<p>"Sleep's best for her," he thought, as he moistened her lips again. +"She's been hot and cold, but there's a nice glow on her now. It's +healthy. She'll pull through. I'll bet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> she pulls through, and we'll +have done it, Jim, and I, and Bill. He's had a big share in it. I should +say the three of us will be able to look after her and find out all +about her."</p> + +<p>Jim had his rest. Glen roused him when he found sleep would overcome him +whether he willed it or no.</p> + +<p>"Wet her lips with it when they're dry. Place your finger on and feel."</p> + +<p>Jim nodded. He thought how he had placed his lips to hers when Glen was +away. He was ashamed of it; somehow he thought he ought to tell him. +He'd think it over while he slept.</p> + +<p>In the midst of nature's great silent solitudes these three were working +out their fate. It was so still that to most people the silence would +have been worse than the noise and rush of traffic. Outside, Ping, +neglected after his long journey, unsaddled, was finding refreshment. +The horse was weary, leg tired, but his heart was in the right place. He +was the sort that never gives in until something snaps.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> + +<p>Spotty called a halt when he had gone a couple of miles, and considered +the question of the unjustness of his master. He must have arrived at +some conclusion for he retraced his steps slowly. Near the hut he +encountered Ping, so nosed round him as though apologising for the +sudden bolt under him. Ping and Spotty were chums. They were both +mongrels, but there is often a lot of good to be found in such animals. +Eventually when Ping lay down Spotty curled up close to his back; the +silence was unbroken.</p> + +<p>When Glen awoke he saw at a glance the woman was coming round. She began +to mutter. They listened but could make out no words.</p> + +<p>"She's pulling through. I reckon she'll mend now. We've all of us got to +get her round."</p> + +<p>"All of us?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, you and Bill and me."</p> + +<p>"And what about the fence?" asked Jim.</p> + +<p>"Damn the fence," answered Glen fiercely, "I've done with it."</p> + +<p>"Then so have I," echoed Jim almost gladly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Good boy. It's a cursed job. Keepers of the fence. I tell you, Jim, +it's slow murder. I'd as lief have solitary confinement."</p> + +<p>"I guess we'd get better tucker in prison," said Jim.</p> + +<p>The word murder recalled to Glen's mind the death of Calder.</p> + +<p>"Jim!"</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Joe Calder's been shot dead on the track."</p> + +<p>"Serves the brute right," replied Jim in a hard voice.</p> + +<p>"You haven't told me yet what brought you here," said Glen looking at +him.</p> + +<p>"That was it."</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"The Calder business."</p> + +<p>"You—?"</p> + +<p>Jim nodded.</p> + +<p>"I shot him."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>"COME"</h3> + + +<p>Glen asked no questions. If Jim Benny had shot Calder he must have had +good reason for it. He waited to hear if he would say more.</p> + +<p>"Do you want to know why?" asked Jim.</p> + +<p>"Please yourself."</p> + +<p>Jim pulled off his shirt, or tried to. It stuck.</p> + +<p>"The water," he said faintly.</p> + +<p>Glen gave him a damp cloth. Jim bathed the shirt, near his breast. For +the first time Glen noticed a deep red mark.</p> + +<p>"That's better," said Jim, as he felt the shirt give, and pulled it off. +Then he went on, "He did that with his knife, and I shot him."</p> + +<p>"It served him right," returned Glen.</p> + +<p>"We quarrelled, not for the first time. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> said brutal things to me, +and called me names no man would stand, so I struck him between the +eyes. He whipped out his knife, and I had it before I could think. I +pulled my revolver from my belt, and shot him through the heart. He fell +like a log. I left him there. I never even looked at him, but came on +here."</p> + +<p>"Why did you come here?"</p> + +<p>"Because I thought I could depend upon you, and you would give me good +advice. I didn't tell you at first, because of her. One thing at a +time's enough."</p> + +<p>"You can depend upon me. I'll help you if there's trouble, but no one +knows you shot him, and there'll not be much fuss made over him," +declared Glen.</p> + +<p>The woman opened her eyes, and looked at them. Then a faint smile spread +over her face.</p> + +<p>"Are you better?" asked Glen.</p> + +<p>No answer.</p> + +<p>"Do you feel stronger, my lass?"</p> + +<p>She pressed her hand over her forehead feebly, and a vacant look came +into her eyes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She's weak. She's had no food. Warm some of that milk, Jim."</p> + +<p>When it was ready Glen gave it to her with a spoon. She took it +greedily. In a few minutes she dozed again.</p> + +<p>"Her head's sure to be bad for a time," said Glen.</p> + +<p>There was a brief silence, then Jim said, "While you were away I did +something."</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"I kissed her on the lips. I couldn't help it. Something prompted me."</p> + +<p>Glen started. For a moment he felt angry, then muttered, "When you were +outside I kissed her on the forehead."</p> + +<p>These kisses were characteristic of the men and showed the difference +between them.</p> + +<p>They said no more about it. Both thought it strange, and the subject +dropped.</p> + +<p>The woman progressed slowly but surely. As she recovered some strength +they found her memory had gone; she did not know her name, or where she +came from. She appeared to imagine she had been there all her life.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> + +<p>Bill Bigs arrived in his buggy, and did not come empty-handed; there was +an ample supply stowed away in the back.</p> + +<p>"That's her, eh?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Do you believe me now?" replied Glen smiling.</p> + +<p>"I believed you before, but I wanted to see her. I say, Glen, she'll be +a grand-looking woman when she's picked up and filled out a bit. Where +the deuce did she come from? It's miles away from everywhere here," said +Bill.</p> + +<p>"It'll be hard to find out. She's lost her memory; she fancies she's +been here all her days, but she's sane enough. She'll talk all right in +a bit," replied Glen.</p> + +<p>"Jim Benny!" exclaimed Bill.</p> + +<p>"He's been here ever since she came. It was funny he should turn up +almost at the same time."</p> + +<p>Jim came into the hut and greeted Bill.</p> + +<p>"I never expected to see you here," exclaimed the latter.</p> + +<p>"He came to consult me. We're going to throw it up," Glen told him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Throw what up?"</p> + +<p>"The fence. We've done with it; we're sick of the whole thing. It's too +much for flesh and blood to stand."</p> + +<p>Bill stared.</p> + +<p>"Going!" he cried. "Why you're the best man on the job."</p> + +<p>"Am I?" answered Glen. "I'm glad to hear someone has a good opinion of +me."</p> + +<p>"I always had," pursued Bill. "I'm not surprised. I've often wondered +why you came. I remember the first time I saw you in Boonara. I thought +you'd dropped from the clouds. Have you sent in your resignation?"</p> + +<p>"No. What does it matter. Let 'em find out. You can drop a line to the +overseer when we're gone."</p> + +<p>"And the fence?" asked Bill "We don't want those cursed rabbits to get +through to our side."</p> + +<p>"There are plenty to look after it; men are always disappearing. There +are good and bad among us. Some fellows are there fighting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> down the +drink curse. I don't blame 'em; it's their only chance. I know two of +'em, good men in their way, but I can tell how it would be with them if +they went back to a town life. They'd go under quick. I've been in many +a jag myself, but that's not why I came out. I can stifle it; it's only +a matter of will," declared Glen.</p> + +<p>"I don't know so much about that. I've had a lot of experience in that +line. Some of the poor beggars can't help themselves," said Bill, and +then added, "They've buried Calder. There'll be no inquiry. Most people +think he shot himself. Anyhow we've shovelled him away in Boonara. If +any trouble is made they can dig him up again and call him as witness. +He's the only one who could give evidence. All your fellows are glad +he's gone."</p> + +<p>Jim listened in silence, with a feeling of relief; he did not in the +least regret what he had done. He regarded it as a righteous act.</p> + +<p>The woman sat up. When she saw Bill she asked, "When did he come?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> + +<p>This was almost the first sentence she had spoken correctly. Hitherto +her words had come disjointedly—in jerks.</p> + +<p>"Me, my lass? I've just dropped in to see my friend, Glen. He told me +you were here."</p> + +<p>"I've been here a long time. Oh, such a long time. I must have been +sleeping for weeks. I've forgotten which is Glen," she answered.</p> + +<p>"I'm Glen—Glen Leigh," he said as he placed his hand on her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"How silly of me that I didn't remember, but I shall not forget again. +You have been very good to me. Have I been very ill?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, for a long time," replied Glen humouring her.</p> + +<p>She looked at Jim, and Glen said, "He's Jim Benny, another good friend. +And that's Bill Bigs, one of the best of friends. We're all going to +look after you."</p> + +<p>She smiled.</p> + +<p>"Do I want looking after?"</p> + +<p>"You'll not be too strong for a good while<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> yet," replied Glen. "When +you are strong we're going away from here."</p> + +<p>She looked at him wonderingly.</p> + +<p>"Going away from home?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"You'll want a change when you get stronger."</p> + +<p>This put a different complexion on the matter, and she smiled again, +nodded, and lay down once more.</p> + +<p>"That's the first attempt at conversation she's made," said Glen. "We're +getting on."</p> + +<p>"You boys—where are you going when you leave here?" asked Bill +suddenly.</p> + +<p>Glen did not hesitate.</p> + +<p>"Sydney," he answered.</p> + +<p>Bill remained silent a few minutes, then said slowly, as though still +thinking it out, "Sydney! I've a good mind to go with you, I'm sick of +Boonara. It's the last place that was ever put up on this earth."</p> + +<p>Glen jumped up from his seat, so did Jim. They took a hand each and +almost pulled Bill's arms off.</p> + +<p>"Do it!" cried Glen. "Do it! We want<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> you. If the three can't make +headway in Sydney we're not the men I fancy we are."</p> + +<p>"Yes, come with us," put in Jim heartily.</p> + +<p>"Stop, you fellows, stop," said Bill. "It's easier said than done. I'll +tell you something. I've had an offer for my shanty, a damned good +offer, more than it's worth. I can't think why he's made it, or where +he's got the money from. I never knew Craig Bellshaw to give much money +away, and I don't see where else it could have come from."</p> + +<p>"Craig Bellshaw!" exclaimed Glen in surprise, "has he made a bid for +it?"</p> + +<p>"Not likely. What'd he want with a place like mine? It's Garry Backham, +Bellshaw's overseer. He came into my place and wanted to know if I'd +sell out. He said he wanted the place and was tired of Mintaro. I was +never more surprised in my life. You could have pushed me over with a +blade of grass."</p> + +<p>"I met him several times. He seems a taciturn sort of man, sullen, bad +tempered—not one of my sort," said Glen.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I fancy he's had a roughish time at Mintaro," Bill surmised, "but he +must have saved money. Bellshaw wouldn't lend it him in hundreds."</p> + +<p>"He was a pal of Calder's; about the only one he had," Jim remarked.</p> + +<p>"I never knew that," said Bill.</p> + +<p>"They used to meet on the track, and talk and smoke. He bought Calder +drink at times," explained Jim.</p> + +<p>"Birds of a feather," said Glen.</p> + +<p>"He made no fuss about Calder being shot," Bill commented.</p> + +<p>"It was no use. He's dead and gone, and there's no proof that he was +shot; he probably did it himself as you have said," decided Glen.</p> + +<p>The woman stirred, murmuring some words in her sleep; with a start she +sat up, stared at the group, stretched out her arms, and in a pleading +voice uttered the one word, "Come."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>THE FACE IN THE WATER</h3> + + +<p>"I'm not superstitious," said Bill, "but that settles it; she said +'come' as plainly as she could, although she's fast asleep. I can't get +over that. I'll sell out to Backham, and join you. We'll make things gee +in Sydney, I reckon."</p> + +<p>They were delighted at this decision, for they knew Bigs was a good man +of business, who had his head screwed on right, and if there was +anything to be made he'd be on to it straight.</p> + +<p>"She'll want some clothes. She can't go in those things," said Glen.</p> + +<p>"I'll fix that up. I can get sufficient garments in Boonara for her to +reach Sydney in and there's no occasion for her to arrive like the Queen +of Sheba," Bill replied.</p> + +<p>They laughed. Things were more cheerful.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> The decision to abandon the +fence livened them up.</p> + +<p>When Bill left he promised to return in a week, and see how the woman +was progressing.</p> + +<p>"It'll be longer than that before we can travel with her," he said.</p> + +<p>Away in Sydney, the great city, vast even in those days, life was going +on very differently from the solitudes round Boonara. There were +hundreds, nay, thousands, of people in that beautiful city who had never +heard of Boonara, or knew there were such men as the keepers of the +fence. As far as the majority of the inhabitants were concerned such men +as Glen Leigh, Jim Benny, and Bill Bigs, might not have existed. Had the +story of the woman in the hut been told it would have been laughed to +scorn, and counted impossible, but there is nothing impossible in the +world, however improbable it may seem.</p> + +<p>Sydney was pulsating with life in this year of grace 18—. There is no +occasion to be exact. It might partially spoil matters, and what's a +year or two to a story, so long as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> the interest is maintained, and the +characters are living beings? Late in the nineteenth century Sydney +flourished exceedingly. The last twenty years of that remarkable era saw +it going ahead by leaps and bounds, and it has been growing ever since +until men who left it years ago, and have revisited it, can hardly +recognise the place. Long may it flourish, most beautiful of many +beautiful cities!</p> + +<p>There was a crowd in Pitt Street, outside Tattersalls, and over the way +at the marble bar streams of people were passing in and out, for it was +hot, and there were many parched throats. Moreover, it had been the +winding up day of the A.J.C. Meeting at Randwick, and every favourite +had got home, much to the disgust of the bookmakers.</p> + +<p>It was ten at night and sultry; there was no air to speak of. The +keepers of the fence would have thought it cool, but they were used to +being burnt up and parched, and lived in a land where water was often +flavoured with the taste of dead things, and not cooled with ice<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> and +fragrant with lemon. Not one of this crowd knew what took place on the +border line of glittering wire. Boonara was as far off as, and more +strange than, Timbuctoo.</p> + +<p>Not one of this crowd? Stay. There was one—probably the only one—who +knew all about it, and he stood smoking a cigar and chatting to a man +outside a tobacconist's shop, not far from the Club on the opposite side +of the road. He was a man nearly six feet high, with black hair and +eyebrows, and a sunburnt face. Not a pleasant face, but strong, +determined, with a rather cruel mouth and dark cat-like eyes; a man +dangerous both to friend and enemy if he willed. He was well-dressed, +but somewhat carelessly; he had a slouch hat, dark grey clothes, and his +tie was awry. He stood with his legs slightly apart, gesticulating with +one hand as he talked. The man to whom he was speaking was the leviathan +of the Australian turf, who had made his position by a mixture of shrewd +business qualities and bold gambling, who betted in thousands, and took +"knocks" that would have sent a less plucky man out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> of the ring. But he +always came up smiling, and his luck was proverbial. He had been known +to play hazards for twelve hours at a stretch and never have a hand +tremble when he lost thousands. He was ostensibly a dealer in choice +cigars, etc., in fact in all the paraphernalia of a tobacconist's, and +it was his shop they had just come out of as they stood talking on the +pavement. He was not so tall as his companion, and had a much more +kindly face. He was popular because he was cheerful and honest, and the +little backer could always get a point over the odds from him.</p> + +<p>The taller man was Craig Bellshaw, of Mintaro Station. The bookmaker was +Nicholas Gerard, always called Nick by everybody.</p> + +<p>Craig Bellshaw was, as before mentioned, probably the only man who knew +there were such men as the keepers of the fence, who had heard of +Boonara, and was acquainted with the vast solitudes in the West. He was +a wealthy man, and could afford to leave Mintaro to the men he employed, +and come<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> to Sydney in search of pleasure. When he was away he still had +his grip on his place, as some of his hands found to their cost. They +put it down to the spying of Garry Backham, the overseer.</p> + +<p>Craig Bellshaw was a man of about fifty years of age, but did not look +it. He had led a hardy life, and been successful. He owned miles upon +miles of land, thousands of cattle, and his sheep ran into hundreds of +thousands. Horses he had in abundance; how many he had no idea. He +claimed all within reach of his land round Mintaro district, but never +missed a dozen when they were taken. It pleased him to say they were +his, so he did not grumble when Boonara men, and fencers, claimed a few. +Bellshaw was difficult to understand, but one thing was certain: once he +got his hold on a thing, he seldom let go.</p> + +<p>He was a bachelor, but had a house in Sydney which cost him a +considerable sum to keep up; he found it handy when he came to town. He +owned racehorses, and his trainer was Ivor Hadwin, who had stables<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> on +the hill at Randwick. Hadwin was completely under Bellshaw's thumb, and +was heavily in his debt. It was owing to pecuniary difficulties that he +became connected with him. This was often the case with Craig Bellshaw. +For once in a way the A.J.C. Meeting proved successful to the stable, +and Bellshaw's horses had won four races, one on each day; all were +heavily backed, and the bulk of the money had either been laid by Nick +Gerard, or he had worked the commission. This was the subject of their +conversation, and as they talked in the flare of the gaslights and the +shops, many people turned to look at them, for both were well-known +figures in the sporting world.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Nick, I've had a pretty good meeting," said Craig.</p> + +<p>Nick Gerard smiled.</p> + +<p>"I should say you had. There are several thousands to your credit," he +rejoined.</p> + +<p>"What do you think of the dark bay—the fellow that won to-day?"</p> + +<p>"Barellan? Oh, he's all right. A pretty fair horse I should say."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, he is, a good deal better than you think."</p> + +<p>"Is he? I've seen him at work on the track. He won to-day, but I don't +think he's the best you've got."</p> + +<p>"No? Which is?"</p> + +<p>"Flash."</p> + +<p>Bellshaw smiled in his peculiar way as he said, "Perhaps he's a better +track horse, but I'm sure Barellan is the better horse in a race, +especially over a distance."</p> + +<p>"He may be. When are you going back West?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet. I'm sick of it. We've had such a long dry spell, but now we've +had rain, a real soaker. We wanted it badly enough."</p> + +<p>"It must be terrible when you have no rain for months."</p> + +<p>"It is. You're lucky to be here always."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you give it up now you've made your pile?"</p> + +<p>"Throw it up? I can't afford it. You don't know what's hanging to +Mintaro."</p> + +<p>"A good deal, no doubt, but you're a single<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> man, with no one dependent +on you. It seems to me you're wasting your time. You've worked hard +enough," argued Nick.</p> + +<p>"So I have, but I couldn't live in Sydney always, any more than I could +at Mintaro."</p> + +<p>They talked for some little time. Eventually Gerard bade him good night +and went over to Tattersalls. The squatter walked along Pitt Street, +then hailing a cab drove to Surrey Hills. He called at a house, remained +some time, then drove to Circular Quay, catching the last boat to Manley. +It was beautiful on the harbour; a cool breeze was blowing from the +heads. The moon shone, and as he leaned over the side he saw his face +reflected in the water. This was peculiar. He did not remember having +seen such a thing before. As he looked he clutched the rail with both +hands, turned pale, and gasped. Reflected beside his face was another +face, that of a young woman—he had not noticed a lady standing a short +distance away from him who was also looking over the side of the boat.</p> + +<p>He staggered away and went to the fore<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> part of the steamer, where there +was more breeze, and sat down. The perspiration broke out all over him. +He felt faint for the first time in his life.</p> + +<p>"I saw it. I'm sure of it, and it was like her face. I'm a fool to be +frightened at a shadow on the water," and he laughed harshly, a +mirthless sound.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>WAYS AND MEANS</h3> + + +<p>Three men and a woman arrived in Sydney by the mail train from Bourke; +there were not many passengers, and they attracted some attention. It +was evident they came from out back, their appearance denoted it; they +were clothed in a rough country style. They were Glen Leigh, Jim Benny, +Bill Bigs, and the woman. They had very little luggage; it was contained +in a couple of bundles, "swags," that could be strapped on the back, +slung over a shoulder, or carried in the hand. Many people in Sydney +have seen the once familiar figure of a tall Queensland millionaire +walking along George Street with a similar outfit. In appearance Glen +Leigh was not unlike him, only younger.</p> + +<p>A porter watched them as they walked out of the station. They all seemed +solicitous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> about the woman. The man understood the three, the female he +was puzzled about.</p> + +<p>"They can't have picked her up coming in the train. She belongs to one +of them. I wonder which. The tall chap, perhaps. He's a big 'un; I fancy +I've seen him before. I wonder where they're bound for?"</p> + +<p>The porter's attention was claimed and he forgot all about them.</p> + +<p>"There's a coffee place in Lower George Street that will do us for a +time," said Glen, "till we've had a look round."</p> + +<p>The woman stared about her wonderingly. If she had ever been in a large +city it was evident she had forgotten all about it.</p> + +<p>Since her illness, which was not yet shaken off, she had developed in +body and mind, although as regards the latter it was to a great extent +blank as to the past. She had some colour in her cheeks. There were +signs that she would be pretty, with a good figure, and be an attractive +woman.</p> + +<p>She made no remarks as Glen and Jim walked on either side of her, Bigs +following behind<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> with the larger bundle. Several people turned to look +at them as they went along.</p> + +<p>The coffee house was large, but unpretentious, the locality being none +of the best. It was at the Circular Quay end of George Street, and +Chinamen's shops and dens abounded—dull dirty places, with a few empty +tea chests in the windows, and bits of paper with Chinese characters +scrawled, or printed on, in various colours, like cracker coverings on a +table after a riotous Boxing Day dinner. In several of the shop doorways +Chinamen leaned against the posts, seldom moving when a customer pushed +by them into the shop, bent on playing fan tan, or smoking opium.</p> + +<p>"The Chinkies might have been propped up there since I was here last, +and that's a few years ago," laughed Bigs.</p> + +<p>"Rotten lot," said Jim.</p> + +<p>"Most of 'em. I've met one or two decent pigtails out West," Bill +answered.</p> + +<p>When the woman caught sight of the Chinaman it had a most peculiar +effect upon her. She shrank close to Glen, pushing him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> on to the +roadway, and almost slipping down herself. He saw by her face that she +was terrified, and followed the direction of her glance. It was fixed on +a fat Chinaman standing in his shop door looking across at them. He was +not exactly repulsive, but he was sleek and oily. His face shone, his +cheeks hung low, he had a double chin, and his eyes were like nuts fixed +in slits.</p> + +<p>"There's nothing to be afraid of," said Glen. "If he is a nasty-looking +beggar I daresay he's harmless."</p> + +<p>Jim and Bill noticed her agitation and scowled at the Chinaman, who +returned the challenge with a broad grin, showing his yellow teeth.</p> + +<p>She trembled violently. Her hand shook as it clasped Glen's arm with a +tight squeeze. He hurried her on; she was quite willing. It was not +until they were inside the coffee house that she recovered.</p> + +<p>"You don't like the Chinamen?" asked Glen.</p> + +<p>"I hate them. They frighten me," she said.</p> + +<p>I wonder why? thought Glen, as a maid came to show her her room.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> + +<p>She looked back and asked, "Where is your room?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know yet," returned Glen.</p> + +<p>"Please don't go far away from me. Please don't."</p> + +<p>"All right," replied Glen. "I'll see to that."</p> + +<p>The maid smiled, but Glen's scowl quickly frightened it away.</p> + +<p>"We'll have to fix something up," he said. "She'd better be somebody's +sister. I'm too old; you take it on, Jim."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Jim's most suitable. He's not much older—a matter of three or +four years," agreed Bill.</p> + +<p>"His sister!"</p> + +<p>Jim didn't like the relationship. Once it was established it might be +difficult to induce her to change the feeling. He must accept, however; +there was no excuse for not doing so.</p> + +<p>"Very well, that's settled. I'll tell her about it," went on Glen. "Try +and explain to her, but she's as simple as a child, and won't understand +the reason for it."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p> + +<p>She was tired. The maid, who regarded her curiously, saw she was weak, +and asked her if she had been ill. She said she had been very ill, for a +long time, and she wanted rest.</p> + +<p>"Lie down on the bed. Let me take your boots on. I'll draw the curtain +round, and you can have a sleep. It will do you good. Have you travelled +far?"</p> + +<p>"From Bourke."</p> + +<p>"Where's that?"</p> + +<p>"In the West. Some hundreds of miles away."</p> + +<p>This excited the maid's compassion. She was a good-natured kind girl, +but fond of admiration, and she had seen a great deal of life since she +came out as an emigrant from the old country.</p> + +<p>"I'll be back in a minute," she said as she left the room. She went to +ask if she could remain with her for a short time, and receiving a reply +in the affirmative returned, after telling Glen she had persuaded her to +rest.</p> + +<p>"She's my friend's sister," and he pointed to Jim. "She's been very ill; +take care of her."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'll look after her. I'm sorry I smiled as I did, but—"</p> + +<p>"But what?" asked Glen.</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing. We see some queer folks here sometimes," she said.</p> + +<p>"I daresay you do," replied Glen, "but we're all right. You needn't be +afraid of any of us."</p> + +<p>"I'm not," she retorted, unable to resist laughing at him.</p> + +<p>"That girl's better than I thought," he remarked when she had gone.</p> + +<p>"They often are, if you'll only take time to find it out," said Bill.</p> + +<p>"Where's Jim?"</p> + +<p>"He must have just gone out. I don't think he liked the sister +business."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" Glen asked, surprised.</p> + +<p>"That remains to be seen," Bill answered, and the remark made Glen +thoughtful.</p> + +<p>Jim came in again and they had a council of ways and means.</p> + +<p>Bill Bigs had a considerable sum of money. He had not half-poisoned the +inhabitants<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> of Boonara, and the keepers of the fence, and others, +without making a handsome profit on his concoctions. His dealings in hay +and provender of various kinds had been another source of income. +Occasional loans, at heavy risks, and corresponding interest, had also +brought grist to the mill.</p> + +<p>The sale of his shanty to Garry Backham brought him in several hundred +pounds, about twice the amount he valued it at, and he had not yet +recovered from the surprise at his good luck, or at the fact that Garry +had found the ready money in a lump sum. Altogether he had a few +thousands at his back.</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh had more money than the other two would have thought +possible. He had it stowed away in a bank in Sydney, where it had +remained, and been added to, ever since he had been on the fence.</p> + +<p>Jim Benny had a few pounds which he carried with him.</p> + +<p>"I'll look round," said Bill. "I'm the business man. I reckon I'd best +stick to my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> own line and buy a 'house' if I can find a decent one at a +fair price."</p> + +<p>"It's about the best thing you can do," agreed Glen.</p> + +<p>"And if I succeed, you two, and the girl, must put up with me until you +find work," went on Bill.</p> + +<p>Glen laughed.</p> + +<p>"What sort of work?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"That's a bit difficult, but two fellows who ride like you can ought to +find some sort of occupation. Start a buckjumping show. Give 'em a taste +of your quality; that's the game; I've hit on a little gold mine. We can +get horses, and it won't cost a deal to run it."</p> + +<p>"You mean have a real genuine show of buckjumping, and riding, in +Sydney, and other places?" Glen queried.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's the idea."</p> + +<p>"How much would it cost to start it?"</p> + +<p>"A few hundreds. I'll find the money."</p> + +<p>"I must have a share in it, and we'll let Jim come in. He can take it +out in hard work," said Glen smiling.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm willing to do anything you wish," Jim declared.</p> + +<p>"If I manage to make the necessary arrangements," said Bill, "you'll +have to go and find the horses, the very worst buckers you can get. +There must be no faking about it."</p> + +<p>"There'll be none where I am concerned," replied Glen, "I'll pick up +some rough 'uns, you may depend on that, I say, Bill, I believe you've +hit on the right thing."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I have. You're the best rider I ever saw sit a horse," said +Bill.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>THE CHINAMAN'S SHOP</h3> + + +<p>Bill Bigs met a good many Chinamen, and had dealings with them, always +finding them keen business fellows, moderately honest, though some were +arrant rogues.</p> + +<p>He went out of the coffee house to look round, and saw the fat Chinaman +still standing in his doorway like a statue, as though he had not moved +since they saw him before entering the house.</p> + +<p>The name on the shop was Lin Soo. Probably this was the name of the man +at the door; at any rate something prompted Bill to cross the road and +look in at the shop window. He saw three tea chests, which he guessed +were empty, a couple of Chinese bowls, a vase with strange hideous +dragons painted or burnt on, an ivory-handled stick, a hat, a pile of +chop-sticks, a bundle of red papers,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> and a cat slumbering serenely +among the miscellaneous collection.</p> + +<p>"Is the cat for sale?" he asked the man.</p> + +<p>The Chinaman smiled.</p> + +<p>"Not for sale. A good cat; he catchee mice, cockroaches."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know there were any mice here."</p> + +<p>"He catchee them if they were here," grinned the man.</p> + +<p>"Your name is Lin Soo?"</p> + +<p>The Chinaman nodded.</p> + +<p>"You speak very good English," said Bill.</p> + +<p>"Been in Sydney years," he replied.</p> + +<p>"And made a heap of money," said Bill.</p> + +<p>"No. Chinaman no chance with the white man," said Lin solemnly.</p> + +<p>Bill laughed.</p> + +<p>"You yellow heathen, I know better than that. Are you a tea dealer?"</p> + +<p>Lin Soo nodded; it was a habit, and when he did so his cheeks flapped +and his eyelids fell up and down like trap doors.</p> + +<p>"Sell me half a pound of good tea," said Bill.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> + +<p>Lin Soo turned and walked into the shop. Bill followed. He did not want +any tea, and Lin Soo knew it.</p> + +<p>The Chinaman went behind the counter, leaning on it with his elbows.</p> + +<p>"What do you want?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Tea."</p> + +<p>Lin Soo grunted.</p> + +<p>"You no fool," he said.</p> + +<p>Bill laughed.</p> + +<p>"How do you know?"</p> + +<p>"You want no tea."</p> + +<p>"What do I want?"</p> + +<p>Lin Soo's head wagged again.</p> + +<p>"Guess," said Bill.</p> + +<p>"Give it up," replied Lin.</p> + +<p>"Why did you leer at the girl we had with us? You frightened her, you +oily beast," said Bill.</p> + +<p>Lin Soo started back. This was evidently unexpected, and Bill was a +formidable fellow to tackle.</p> + +<p>Lin Soo protested he had not stared at her. Lots of silly women were +frightened at Chinamen—why<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> he didn't know. They had no cause to be.</p> + +<p>"They have every cause," said Bill. "Chinamen have ruined many white +women. Some of you yellow dogs buy and sell our girls, and trade them to +human beasts, who disgrace their colour. They're worse than you +fellows."</p> + +<p>"Much worse," agreed Lin. "You know about it?"</p> + +<p>"About what?"</p> + +<p>"Trading in white girls."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you scoundrel. I expect you've been at it."</p> + +<p>Lin Soo protested. He was a good Chinaman,—not one of that sort.</p> + +<p>Bill noticed the leer in his eyes, and concluded he was a deep-dyed +rogue.</p> + +<p>"Have you ever been out West?" he asked out of curiosity.</p> + +<p>Lin Soo said he had. A few years ago he had business in Bourke.</p> + +<p>Bill became interested. What took him to Bourke?</p> + +<p>Dealings with a big man, a man of money.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> He did not live at Bourke, but +he met him, Lin Soo, there.</p> + +<p>"What sort of dealings?" queried Bill.</p> + +<p>Lin Soo would not disclose them.</p> + +<p>Bill questioned him for some time, and discovered that he might smoke +opium there if he wished; also that he might gamble for a considerable +sum if he so desired.</p> + +<p>He left the shop, wondering what had induced him to waste his time +there.</p> + +<p>Lin Soo watched him go up the street, scowled after him, called him bad +names and cursed him in some horrible guttural way.</p> + +<p>"You sneaking round me," he said. "Better take care. Lin Soo stand no +fool play. Me stare at white woman! Why not? Me had dealings with many +white women. Business in Bourke with what you call squatter and white +woman. Tell him? Not muchy!"</p> + +<p>Bill walked into Pitt Street. When he came to the corner of Market +Street he stopped and stared.</p> + +<p>That looks uncommonly like Craig Bellshaw, he thought.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> + +<p>The man he had seen turned round and came towards him. It was Bellshaw. +He saw Bill Bigs and recognised him.</p> + +<p>"You here, Bigs? What brings you to Sydney?"</p> + +<p>"I've sold out."</p> + +<p>"Have you? Tired of Boonara, eh?"</p> + +<p>"It's hardly a paradise as you know, and I got a good price for the +place, so I thought I'd quit."</p> + +<p>"I expect you've knocked up a nice little pile out of the natives, the +fencers, and my men, shearers, and so on. I had a nip or two at your +shanty. I can taste it yet. What horrible stuff you sold," said Craig.</p> + +<p>"No worse than others sell. No worse than the man who bought me out will +sell."</p> + +<p>"Who bought you out?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you know?"</p> + +<p>"How should I?"</p> + +<p>"Garry Backham. He paid cash down, too. I wonder where he came by it? I +don't suppose you've been over liberal with him," said Bill. He watched +Bellshaw as he spoke,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> and the squatter returned his glance without a +flicker.</p> + +<p>"Garry's bought you out? I wondered why he wanted to leave me," replied +Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>He's lying, thought Bill, and wondered why.</p> + +<p>"He'll not find it all profit," said Bill.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw laughed.</p> + +<p>"I don't expect he will," he agreed. "Who's there now looking after the +place?"</p> + +<p>"He is."</p> + +<p>"You mean he's left Mintaro and gone to Boonara?"</p> + +<p>"That's about it. He was in the house when I came away."</p> + +<p>"The scoundrel. He's neglected my interests. He shall pay for it. He'd +no business to leave Mintaro until I returned."</p> + +<p>"I expect Mintaro will be all right. You've plenty of hands there."</p> + +<p>Bellshaw laughed again.</p> + +<p>"I daresay they'll pull through somehow," he said.</p> + +<p>When Craig Bellshaw left him Bill went<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> back to the coffee house, and +told them he had seen him.</p> + +<p>"Did he say when he was returning?" asked Glen. "I don't want to meet +him. He's not my kind. Besides he might try and make it nasty over +leaving the fence. He's one of that sort."</p> + +<p>"He's sure to be going back soon. He's been here some time I fancy. I +wonder why he tried to make me believe he knew nothing about Garry +Backham taking my place? It's all bunkum. He knew right enough, but he +must have some reason for trying to hide it," said Bill.</p> + +<p>"If all I've heard about Mintaro is correct there are some queer goings +on at times. I've never been there, but one of the fellows on the fence, +Abe Carew, was employed by him for a long time. He offended Bellshaw, +who kicked him out, and he was very sore about it. He gave him a nice +character. I didn't believe it all, of course, but no doubt a lot of +it's true," Glen remarked.</p> + +<p>"Bellshaw's one of those queer sorts, you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> never know what they are up +to, never know when you've got 'em. He's been in my place and said +things I knew were lies, and he seemed to have no reason for it, but he +must have had," said Bill.</p> + +<p>"Some fellows lie for the sake of lying," Glen answered.</p> + +<p>The woman slept all night until late next morning. When she came into +the large room Glen was the only one in it. She went straight up to him, +holding out both hands. When he took them she kissed him. The hot blood +surged in his veins. Was she always going to do this? He was glad no one +saw it.</p> + +<p>"You feel much better?" he asked when he had recovered his equanimity.</p> + +<p>"Almost well. Sleep is wonderful. Are we going to live here?" she +returned.</p> + +<p>"No. This is a sort of hotel. We are staying here until we find a home."</p> + +<p>"Why did we leave home?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"It was impossible to stay there; there was only one room in the hut."</p> + +<p>"Wasn't it always like that?" she asked as though trying to recall +something.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, not always. Can't you remember?"</p> + +<p>"Remember—what?"</p> + +<p>"Where you came from when you came to the hut."</p> + +<p>She laughed.</p> + +<p>"How funny you are. You know I always lived there."</p> + +<p>"With me, and Jim, and Bill?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She seemed puzzled.</p> + +<p>"It must have been so, and yet—" she put her hand to her head.</p> + +<p>He watched her. Would she remember, or would he have to wait? That it +would all come back to her some day he was certain, and then—</p> + +<p>She was at the window, looking into the street. Lin Soo's shop was +nearly opposite, but he was not visible.</p> + +<p>A dark man walked rapidly along, and was about to enter Lin Soo's when a +cab horse slipped and fell. This attracted his attention. He turned +round with the intention of going to assist the driver, but the horse +struggled to his feet unaided.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p> + +<p>As the man looked across the road the woman at the window gave a faint +cry. Glen was at her side in a moment.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"That man, the dark man, looking this way. I've seen him before. Who is +he? Do you know?" she said in an agitated voice.</p> + +<p>It was Craig Bellshaw.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>THE ACCUSATION</h3> + + +<p>"Have you seen him before? Do you know him? His name is Craig Bellshaw. +He lives at Mintaro, a big homestead, some miles from the hut, the home +we left," said Glen.</p> + +<p>The fear, or whatever it was, passed. She smiled. No, she did not know +him, nor had she heard the name.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you knew someone like him?" Glen suggested.</p> + +<p>She shook her head. She did not remember.</p> + +<p>Much to Glen's surprise he saw Bellshaw go into Lin Soo's shop. He came +out again in about a quarter of an hour, hailed a passing hansom, and +drove away.</p> + +<p>Why had he gone into the Chinaman's? It was about the last place Glen +would have expected to see him in. He told Bill what had happened. They +could make nothing of it, but it made a deep impression on them.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p> + +<p>Craig Bellshaw was uneasy. The face on the water troubled him; it +haunted him as he walked about. He left Sydney suddenly and returned to +Mintaro, where he arrived unexpectedly. He found everything going on as +usual. Garry Backham had put a man in charge of the shanty at Boonara, +and returned to his duties until such time as Bellshaw came back.</p> + +<p>"I met Bigs in Sydney," said Bellshaw. "He told me you went into his +place the day he left, and handed it over to you. I suppose you came +back when he had gone?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I thought it best to make sure of the place. Bigs is a shifty +customer. If I'd left him in charge he might have done me out of no end +of things," returned Garry.</p> + +<p>"Probably he would. He seemed surprised when I told him I didn't know +you had bought him out."</p> + +<p>Garry grinned.</p> + +<p>"Of course you didn't know. How should you?"</p> + +<p>The two men looked hard at each other.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Joe Calder's dead," said Garry.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw started.</p> + +<p>"Dead," he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Murdered. Shot through the heart."</p> + +<p>"Who did it?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody knows, but I have a suspicion," Garry answered. "He's buried, +and so far as that goes it's done with, but he was a friend of mine, and +yours, and we ought to do something."</p> + +<p>"I shan't. Let it be, man. What's the good of kicking up a fuss?" argued +Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"Two men have cleared out from the fence."</p> + +<p>"Who are they?"</p> + +<p>"Glen Leigh and Jim Benny."</p> + +<p>"Good riddance to them. They were rotters—no good to me."</p> + +<p>"You don't like Leigh. He's been one too many for you once or twice."</p> + +<p>"I hate him. It was Leigh who kicked up a fuss about that mob of cattle +that broke the fencing down. He complained that I ought to have them +driven off, and said it was not the duty of the keepers of the fence."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's part of their duty. They are a lazy lot of beggars," replied +Garry. "I fancy Glen Leigh and Jim Benny know a good deal about Joe +Calder's death."</p> + +<p>"Do you think that's why they have cleared out?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Don't you?"</p> + +<p>"It may have something to do with it; I wish I could find out."</p> + +<p>"You said a minute or two back it was best left alone," said Garry.</p> + +<p>"But this is different. I'd like to put a halter round Leigh's neck."</p> + +<p>"Why? Have you any strong reason?"</p> + +<p>"I'm told Abe Carew and he were pals, and that Abe told him a good many +things about Mintaro. Calder gave me the information," Bellshaw +answered.</p> + +<p>"Did he now, and Abe wouldn't spare you, would he?"</p> + +<p>"Spare me? What do you mean? He'd tell a lot of infernal lies about me, +the scoundrel."</p> + +<p>"You should be more careful how you send<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> men away. You were not over +polite to him," said Garry.</p> + +<p>"He didn't deserve it. He robbed me right and left."</p> + +<p>"I don't think he did. I told you so at the time."</p> + +<p>Bellshaw made an impatient gesture.</p> + +<p>"You know nothing about it; I shan't be sorry when you're gone, Garry. +You've been getting above yourself for some time."</p> + +<p>"You think so, do you? I shan't be sorry to get away from Mintaro. +There's some things a fellow can't stand."</p> + +<p>Bellshaw laughed harshly.</p> + +<p>"I didn't think you were soft, or chicken-hearted," he said.</p> + +<p>"I'm not, but I'd like to know what became of the woman," retorted +Garry.</p> + +<p>"I told you I took her away with me because I was tired of her, and that +she was going back to Sydney with me," said Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"Did she go to Sydney with you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And she's there now?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"With her mother, I suppose," sneered Garry.</p> + +<p>"Never mind who she's with. She's all right."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe you took her to Sydney," said Garry.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw glared at him.</p> + +<p>"Where else could I take her?" he asked fiercely.</p> + +<p>"Nowhere."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by that?"</p> + +<p>"It's pretty lonely about here. One woman would not be missed."</p> + +<p>Bellshaw caught him by the arm in a fierce grip and raised his fist.</p> + +<p>"Be careful, or I'll make it hot for you," he snarled.</p> + +<p>Garry wrenched himself free.</p> + +<p>"Let me alone. I guess I'm a match for you, and I'm not afraid of you, +if other people are," he cried. "You lent me the money to buy Bill Bigs +out. Well, it will be better for you to make me a present of it."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p> + +<p>Craig Bellshaw started back.</p> + +<p>"Look," he said, "see that?" and he pointed to the wide verandah, built +round the house.</p> + +<p>"There's nothing there," answered Garry, thinking he must have been +doing it heavy in Sydney and that the effects had not died out.</p> + +<p>"No, of course not," said Bellshaw, trying to laugh it off. "So you say +I had better make you a present of it. Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because I know you did not take her to Sydney," said Garry slowly.</p> + +<p>"It's a lie," roared Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"No it isn't, and you know it. Where is she now?"</p> + +<p>"That's my affair."</p> + +<p>"You can't tell me. I'm worth a few hundreds. I'll bet them you can't +tell me," Garry persisted.</p> + +<p>"This is foolishness. What the deuce have you got into your head?"</p> + +<p>"More than you think. I know you travelled to Sydney alone," replied +Garry.</p> + +<p>"And supposing I did, you fool, do you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> expect I'd travel in the same +carriage with her?"</p> + +<p>"Maybe not, but you'd have been only too glad to have gone anywhere with +her a couple of years back," Garry retorted.</p> + +<p>"It was her own fault. She was tired of my company. She behaved badly. I +treated her well," said Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"When you first brought her from Bourke you did, but I don't think she +ever forgave, or forgot, how she came here. It was a blackguardly trick +to play her."</p> + +<p>"What trick?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, stow that. Do you mean to say you think I don't know? I'm no fool. +She was dazed, drugged, or something, when she came. Why it was more +than a week before she found out where she was, and she had to stay +because she couldn't get away. There was nowhere to go."</p> + +<p>"We'll drop all that. She's safe enough now. Don't bother your head +about her."</p> + +<p>"But that's just what I do. I might have saved her. I could have done so +if I'd had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> the pluck, but you bought me off, and I hate myself for it. +Do you know what I think?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"You can have it whether you like it or not—I think you've done away +with her."</p> + +<p>Bellshaw stepped up to him in a threatening attitude.</p> + +<p>"Stand back," said Garry, pulling out his revolver. "I found this near +the big water hole when I was having a ride round."</p> + +<p>He pulled a handkerchief and a piece of ribbon out of his pocket.</p> + +<p>"Well?" Bellshaw asked.</p> + +<p>"There'd been a struggle near the water hole, but she wasn't in there. I +made sure of that, but you left her there, and she's as dead as if you'd +shoved her in. She'd starve, die of thirst, go mad wandering about. It +would have been more merciful to strangle her. I saw her tracks for some +distance, but I couldn't follow them far; the ground soon dries up. +She's no more in Sydney than I am, and you've done a brutal, cowardly +act, Craig Bellshaw!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> + +<p>Bellshaw made no answer, and Garry went on, "It'll come home to you some +day, mark my words if it doesn't. If I thought she was alive I'd be +mighty glad, for I feel as though I had a hand in it. When I saw her +drive away with you something told me you meant mischief, but I never +thought you'd kill her by inches. Hadn't she suffered enough at your +hands that you must let her die such a terrible death?"</p> + +<p>"Have you done?" asked Bellshaw quietly. His tone surprised Garry.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I've said enough, and you know the bulk of it's true."</p> + +<p>"You may think it is, although it's a poor recompense for all I have +done for you. However, I bear you no malice. I have only one request to +make."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" asked Garry.</p> + +<p>"Keep your thoughts to yourself. The law is powerful. There's more than +that—in this part of the country I am the law, and I can take it into +my own hands without fear of being called to account. You've seen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> me do +it; you know I'm not a man to be cowed, that I do not fear you, or any +other man, nor what you say, or do. Listen to me, Garry Backham. There +are men round Mintaro who will do my bidding for money, no matter what +it is I ask. You know the sort of men, desperate, some of them, the +worst of criminals. If I hear any of the lies you have said repeated I +will burn your place to the ground, and you with it. You had best keep a +still tongue."</p> + +<p>Garry knew he was capable of carrying out his threats, and that he had +the men to do what he willed. He believed the accusation he had brought, +but he had no wish to run into grave danger.</p> + +<p>"You'll think about that money, Mr. Bellshaw," he said.</p> + +<p>"You mean giving it you, not lending it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"It depends upon yourself," was the reply.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>JERRY, JOURNALIST</h3> + + +<p>In a small house, in a side street, on Moore Park, the woman who came to +Sydney with Glen Leigh, and the other two, had rooms. It had been +decided to call her Clara Benny, as it was necessary she should have a +name, and to install her here. Mrs. Dell, who kept the house, was a +widow, a respectable woman in reduced circumstances, and she had +promised to do what she could for her lodger. Clara could not understand +it. She wanted the three to be with her. They had always been together. +Why should they leave her alone? It was useless to try and explain, and +no attempt was made. Glen said it was necessary because they had to +work, and it would be better for her to have a kind motherly woman to +look after her; this made her more contented, and one of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> them called to +see her every day. Mrs. Dell was puzzled over her lodger; she fancied +she suffered from some brain trouble, but she liked her from the first, +and quickly came to love her; she looked upon her as a substitute for +her own girl, who had died of consumption at about the same age. Clara +repaid this affection, and in a very short time they became inseparable. +The money she received for her board and lodging was a great help to +Mrs. Dell, and Glen Leigh was always supplying some delicacy for the +table.</p> + +<p>Bill Bigs succeeded in finding a small hotel to his liking in +Castlereagh Street. The seller came into some money, and sailing for +England, was glad to find a buyer at a reasonable price. The house was +in bad condition, but Bill, with his usual energy, quickly set to work, +and in a few weeks it was spick and span, clean and inviting. There was +a steady trade, and a fair number of customers frequented the +place—many theatrical, sporting and pressmen, with whom he became +popular.</p> + +<p>Jerry Makeshift, of "The Sketch," found<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> good copy in Bill. Jerry was +one of the most popular men in Sydney, a wonderfully clever black and +white artist, a born joker, and an excellent writer of highly +sensational news, in paragraphs, or columns, as required. He had one +failing, not an unusual one in these days. He was fond of his glass and +hilarious company, and as he always had a lot of admirers following in +his wake he soon brought genial customers to "The Kangaroo," as Bill +curiously named the place. Jerry Makeshift extracted from Bill much +interesting press matter about Boonara, and the district surrounding it; +also about the keepers of the fence.</p> + +<p>The clever journalist was astounded at what he heard, especially about +the men on the rabbit-proof fence. In a hazy sort of way he had heard of +them before, but when Bill began to talk about them, with intimate +knowledge, Jerry opened his eyes.</p> + +<p>"I'll introduce you to two of 'em," said Bill. "They are staying with +me. In fact they came to Sydney with me from the forsaken place. They +found the life too much<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> for 'em, and you bet it must be awful when such +men as they throw it up."</p> + +<p>"I'd like to meet them," replied Jerry. "How is it I have not done so +before?"</p> + +<p>"Well, it's this way. They're busy. They've got a scheme in hand that I +suggested, and I think it's just the thing for 'em and will pay well," +and he explained about the buckjumping exhibition.</p> + +<p>"By Jove, that's a capital idea," said Jerry, who saw the possibilities +at once.</p> + +<p>"You might be able to give it a lift," suggested Bill cautiously.</p> + +<p>"Probably. I will if I can, but I must hear more about it," Jerry +answered.</p> + +<p>"Come in to-night, and I'll introduce you to Glen Leigh. He's the chap, +a wonderful man, as straight as a die, big, strong, a rough customer, +but with the heart of a child when anything appeals to his better +nature. Why he went on the fence the Lord only knows. I remember him +arriving in Boonara. It caused quite a sensation. No one could make him +out then, and no one made him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> out before he left. A mystery man, that's +what he is. Don't forget to-night. I'll have a decent dinner for you, +and a bottle of the right stuff, and you can talk in my room to your +heart's content."</p> + +<p>"That will suit me," said Jerry as he went out.</p> + +<p>"He's a good sort," thought Bill. "He ought to be able to boom the show +when it starts."</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh was averse to talking with strangers, but Bill persuaded him +to meet Jerry Makeshift.</p> + +<p>"It's the fellow who draws those funny things that catch the eye on the +front page of 'The Sketch.' They're the cleverest things out, and 'The +Sketch' is the best paper of its kind in Australia. It goes all over the +place. It even got as far as Boonara," said Bill.</p> + +<p>"And I've had many a copy in my hut," answered Glen. "I don't mind +meeting a man like that. He's out of the common. He can teach you +something."</p> + +<p>"That's settled," said Bill. "He'll be here at seven, and mind you pitch +it him strong<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> about the show. He'll ask you about work on the fence. +Tell him what it's like; he'll appreciate it."</p> + +<p>Jerry Makeshift was punctual. He loved a good dinner and he sniffed +appreciatively as he came into the house. Jim Benny was away, so Glen +went upstairs with his companion, and they did full justice to Bill's +good things, which he laid himself out to supply.</p> + +<p>Jerry at once saw that Glen Leigh was no ordinary man, and that he would +have to be handled in anything but an orthodox fashion. With his usual +skill in such matters he set to work to propitiate him, and succeeded so +well that at the end of the dinner Glen was talking freely to him. He +told him all about the glittering wire, of the awful loneliness of the +life, the terrible droughts, the millions of rabbits, how they died in +hundreds of thousands from lack of food, and their bones were piled up +in great heaps. He told of the losses of sheep and cattle, how squatters +were almost ruined, and had to borrow money to go on with. He pictured +the thousands<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> of square miles of desolate land without a blade of +grass; then suddenly the rain fell in torrents and in twenty-four hours +came the glorious change from baked brown to verdant glistening green +which covered the earth like a brilliant carpet, dazzling the eyes, that +had been accustomed to dead colours for months at a stretch.</p> + +<p>Then he went on to describe the life on the fence, the men, their varied +characters; some strange stories he told of crime and criminals that he +heard when he was one of the keepers. His language was plain and simple +so that every word hit home.</p> + +<p>Jerry Makeshift listened with his eyes fixed intently on Glen Leigh's +face. As he talked he seemed to forget where he was; he was back again +in his old surroundings, in the hut, in Bill's shanty at Boonara. He +stopped suddenly. There must be no mention of Clara Benny, the woman in +the hut, or how they came to Sydney.</p> + +<p>"I never heard such a thrilling, interesting, story before," said Jerry, +who knew he had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> discovered a storehouse of fresh copy in Glen Leigh. +Apart from this Leigh had won his wayward, roving nature completely. +Here was a man after his own heart, a man who had seen much and done +more, a worker at the hardest kind of work, who went grinding on in +solitude with no word of encouragement from a living soul.</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh had made a staunch friend. He did not think he had done +anything, or said anything, out of the common. That was where he proved +so attractive to Jerry. The practised journalist knew every word he +heard was true, that no exaggeration was here. On the contrary the +reality must have been ten times worse than it was described.</p> + +<p>"Tell me about this buckjumping show Bigs mentioned," said Jerry.</p> + +<p>Glen smiled.</p> + +<p>"Bill's sanguine, too sanguine, about that."</p> + +<p>"I don't think he is. There are great possibilities in it," Jerry +answered.</p> + +<p>"Maybe so, but it'll take a lot of working up."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'll do what I can for you," promised Jerry.</p> + +<p>"You will! That's good of you. I reckon a few words from you, or a +sketch from your pen, goes a long way with the public," replied Glen.</p> + +<p>Jerry laughed. There was not an atom of conceit about him.</p> + +<p>"I do my best to amuse the public. I fancy I manage it all right +somehow, but heaven knows where the talent I possess comes from, for I +never had much education. I'm what they call self-taught."</p> + +<p>"Then you were a better teacher than hundreds of men who profess to know +a heap of things," declared Glen.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps so. A battle with the world when you're young is a good +education in itself," replied Jerry.</p> + +<p>Glen told him how "The Sketch," and Jerry's drawings, were to be found +even on the fence and in Boonara.</p> + +<p>"I've spent hours over 'em," he said. "The man who can make a keeper of +the fence laugh deserves a big pension for life."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p> + +<p>Jerry pulled "The Sketch" out of his pocket.</p> + +<p>"That's the latest. Just off the press. I'll leave it you."</p> + +<p>A paper fell on the floor. Jerry picked it up.</p> + +<p>"Have you seen this?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Tattersalls' Hundred Thousand Pound Sweep on the Melbourne Cup. You +ought to try your luck in it," said Jerry.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>IN SEARCH OF HORSES</h3> + + +<p>"I think I'll risk a pound," said Glen laughing.</p> + +<p>"A hundred thousand pound sweep is not bad, and the winner takes about a +fourth of it," Jerry answered.</p> + +<p>"Twenty-five thousand. That would do me all right. No occasion for more +work. I'd buy a nice little property and be comfortable for the +remainder of my life," said Glen.</p> + +<p>They parted in a very cordial manner. It was not often Glen let himself +go like this, but he liked Jerry, and when he was fond of a man he was +not slow to show it.</p> + +<p>Glen went West next day and forgot all about the ticket, but there was +plenty of time as the sweep did not close for several weeks.</p> + +<p>He went on a purchasing expedition, to buy horses for the show, while +Bill Bigs and Jim<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> Benny were preparing the way in Sydney for an opening +in the exhibition building, which had already been secured. Jim had no +desire to go into the Boonara district again after what had happened. +There was no telling what rumours might be about. As a matter of fact +Garry Backham was sorry he had thrown out a hint to Craig Bellshaw. He +might be inclined to follow it up.</p> + +<p>Garry was very much surprised one morning when Glen Leigh walked into +his place and bade him the time of day as though he had seen him a few +hours before. Leigh was a cool hand and never flustered, except on +special occasions, when he knew he had been put upon, or someone tried +to bounce him. When he flared up there were ructions, as more than one +man on the fence had found out during his time there.</p> + +<p>"You're about the last man I expected to see in Boonara," said Garry.</p> + +<p>"I daresay I am. I'm here on business. I can put some money in your way +if you'll help me. We were never very friendly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> but that's all over. I +daresay you have no objections to earning money?"</p> + +<p>"None at all. We're most of us that way inclined," replied Garry. "As to +being bad friends, don't you think that was mostly your fault?"</p> + +<p>"No. There was a good bit of underhand work on the fence, sneaking, and +so on. Joe Calder and you were pretty thick. I fancy Bellshaw got some +hints, true or untrue, from the pair of you."</p> + +<p>"He never got any from me, whatever he did from Joe."</p> + +<p>"Are you quite sure?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll try and believe it. Joe Calder paid for all the wrong he +did."</p> + +<p>"Do you know what some folks say about here?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"That either you, or Jim Benny, shot him, and that's why you both +cleared out."</p> + +<p>"They say that, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They're wide of the mark. Why didn't they say it before we left, not +when our backs were turned?" asked Glen.</p> + +<p>Garry smiled.</p> + +<p>"It wouldn't do for a man to accuse you to your face of murder," he +answered.</p> + +<p>"Then you don't hold me responsible for Calder's death?" Glen queried.</p> + +<p>"Not likely, is it?" answered Garry. "What's the business you're here +on?"</p> + +<p>"I want a dozen of the worst bucking horses in the district. It swarms +with bad 'uns of all sorts," said Glen.</p> + +<p>"You're right. I never saw such brutes in my life. Mintaro's overrun +with them, if one could only find them."</p> + +<p>"Would Bellshaw sell some?" asked Glen.</p> + +<p>"I should say he'd be only too glad to get rid of any you cared to +pick."</p> + +<p>"You can manage it, can't you? You were always on good terms with him," +said Glen.</p> + +<p>"I'm not now," replied Garry.</p> + +<p>Glen looked surprised. He thought Bellshaw<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> found the money with which +Garry bought Bill Bigs out.</p> + +<p>"You don't mind me saying it, but Bill fancied Bellshaw found you the +money for this place," he said.</p> + +<p>"He did, but he only lent it me. It's since I bought it we quarrelled."</p> + +<p>"Serious?"</p> + +<p>"Rather, but we've agreed to drop it. Still, we're not on good terms."</p> + +<p>"Then I'd better go and see him alone," said Glen.</p> + +<p>Garry hesitated. There was no telling how Bellshaw might act, as Glen +ought to have sent in his notice to him before he left the fence. He +knew, however, that Glen Leigh was capable of taking care of himself, +and that he was more than a match for the squatter.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you had," he agreed. "I can tell you where the best horses for +your purpose are to be found. I never saw such beasts, regular savages, +half wild, unbroken, not even handled, and some of them six years<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> old. +They're most of 'em by old Tear'em, as they call him. Perhaps you've +heard of him?"</p> + +<p>"I've heard the name, but nothing much about him except that he's a +savage."</p> + +<p>"So he is, and so are all his lot. Tear'em has accounted for more than +one man's life," said Garry.</p> + +<p>"Why doesn't Bellshaw shoot him?"</p> + +<p>"That's more than I can tell. It strikes me he rather likes the horse. +It suits his temperament."</p> + +<p>"Where are these horses to be found?"</p> + +<p>"At the Five Rocks most likely. Do you know where that is?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"To the south of Mintaro, a good twenty miles."</p> + +<p>"And how the deuce am I to get at 'em? I shall want assistance."</p> + +<p>"If you get Bellshaw's permission to bag a dozen or two I'll go with you +to get 'em and take half a dozen men from here."</p> + +<p>"That's a bargain," said Glen. "I expect<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> it will be tough work getting +'em into the trucks when we have driven them as far as Bourke, if ever +we get 'em there."</p> + +<p>"Never fear about that. I know how to handle them. What are you going to +do with 'em when they reach Sydney?"</p> + +<p>Glen explained, and Garry thought the idea splendid. He was quite sure +it would pay. He said he'd like to be in it.</p> + +<p>"So you shall, Garry," said Glen, who was one of the quick forgiving +kind. "How much?"</p> + +<p>"A couple of hundred or so."</p> + +<p>"It's as good as done. Of course, I must consult Bill. He's the prime +mover, the originator of the scheme."</p> + +<p>"You'll stay the night?" Garry asked.</p> + +<p>"I've no time to spare. I must return as soon as possible, so if you'll +let me have a fresh horse I'll ride on to Mintaro at once."</p> + +<p>"You can have the best I've got. It'll be nothing very grand, but I'll +find one that will take you there."</p> + +<p>He went out, leaving him in the bar.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span></p> + +<p>Glen as he looked round vividly recalled the day he rode in from the hut +to see Bill on behalf of the woman. He wondered what she was doing. Was +Jim Benny with her? He did not like the idea of Jim seeing too much of +her. Yet it was foolish of him. Why should he not see her as often as he +wished? She was supposed to be his sister.</p> + +<p>Garry returned and said the horse would be round in a few minutes.</p> + +<p>"Don't ruffle Bellshaw," he counselled. "He's not been in the best of +tempers since he came home from Sydney."</p> + +<p>"Bill had a talk with him in Pitt Street, and I saw him. Where do you +think he was going?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. He's a queer sort."</p> + +<p>"Into a Chinaman's shop in Lower George Street. A fellow named Lin Soo. +A beastly-looking Johnnie. I wonder what he went there for?"</p> + +<p>Garry was glad Glen was not looking at him or he might have seen his +agitation and wondered at it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He knows a lot of curious people," he answered. "Probably he went to +buy tea."</p> + +<p>"It wasn't a tea shop, although that is what Lin Soo pretends it is. I +expect, from what Bill said, it's an opium den, or worse."</p> + +<p>"There are lots of 'em in Sydney," said Garry with an assumption of +carelessness.</p> + +<p>"Plenty in that quarter. They ought to root the whole lot out. It +wouldn't be a bad job if the places were burned down."</p> + +<p>Glen went out, mounted, and had a parting word with Garry, who said, +"Remember what I told you about Bellshaw. There's something wrong with +him, I'm certain."</p> + +<p>"In what way?"</p> + +<p>"He talks a bit wild, and seems to have something on his mind; he sees +things," and he told Glen about the verandah incident. "I put it down to +the spree he'd probably been on in Sydney."</p> + +<p>"I'll humour him," replied Glen laughing. "If he turns rusty I'll have +to try and get the horses elsewhere. There are plenty of 'em, I +expect."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Heaps, but none half so good for your purpose as those at the Five +Rocks, by old Tear'em, or one of his sons," said Garry.</p> + +<p>Glen waved his hand as he rode away. Garry watched him until horse and +man became specks in the distance. As he went inside he muttered, "I +think I can guess why Craig Bellshaw went into Lin Soo's shop."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>LEIGH HEARS STRANGE THINGS</h3> + + +<p>Craig Bellshaw was in an ill humour. He had received a letter from Lin +Soo which upset him. The Chinaman said he had changed his mind. He could +not supply him with what he required, it was too risky; already he had +been in trouble with the police, and he dare not undertake it. These +were not the exact words, for the letter was illiterate, but Lin Soo +made it plain enough to Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"He hasn't returned the money I advanced him, but he'll have to if he +doesn't fulfil his part of the bargain. There's no risk, at least not +much, and he's done it before. I can't live here without some sort of +comfort."</p> + +<p>His quarrel with Garry Backham made him vindictive. He was rather afraid +of Garry after what he had said. The man knew too much about certain +things at Mintaro,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> doings, which, if they came to light, would get him +into serious trouble. He would have to give Garry the money he had lent +him, but intended keeping him in suspense for a time.</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh arrived at Mintaro in the evening. When Bellshaw saw who his +visitor was he wondered what brought him there. It was bold conduct on +Leigh's part to come and face him after deserting his post.</p> + +<p>"Are you surprised to see me?" asked Glen as he dismounted, and Bellshaw +came out.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you're a cool hand."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose you know I can have you arrested for deserting?"</p> + +<p>Glen laughed.</p> + +<p>"Who is to arrest me?"</p> + +<p>"I have the power."</p> + +<p>"And who's to look after me if you arrest me?"</p> + +<p>"I can easily manage that."</p> + +<p>"But you won't."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Because it would only cause you trouble and worry."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What have you come for?"</p> + +<p>"To buy horses," replied Glen.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw laughed as he said, "Turned horse-dealer, have you?"</p> + +<p>"I'm on the look out for a dozen of the worst buckjumpers I can find," +said Glen.</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>Glen explained. Bellshaw became interested. There seemed to be money in +the idea.</p> + +<p>"You'll find plenty here, but you'll have to sort them out yourself. I +can't afford men to help you."</p> + +<p>"I'm prepared for that. Garry Backham will find the men."</p> + +<p>"Backham's behaved badly towards me; he's not to be trusted. I shouldn't +advise you to have much to do with him."</p> + +<p>"He'll not get round me. I've had a long talk with him. He tells me you +put him into Bigs's place; it was good of you to help him."</p> + +<p>"And he's repaid me by the basest ingratitude, but it's generally the +way if you help a man."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's not my way," said Glen.</p> + +<p>"You'll stop the night?" asked Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"Yes, if you'll put me up."</p> + +<p>"There's heaps of room. You're welcome to some of it," answered Bellshaw +ungraciously.</p> + +<p>After dinner they talked about the horses, and Bellshaw agreed to let +him have a dozen for a hundred pounds, which was quite as much, or more, +than they were worth, but Glen had no desire to haggle over the affair.</p> + +<p>He slept in a room near Bellshaw's. In the wooden homestead sounds +carried far.</p> + +<p>About the middle of the night Glen was roused by hearing someone walking +on the verandah, pacing to and fro. The footsteps sounded stealthy and +peculiar. He could not make it out; his curiosity was aroused. He got +off the bed quietly, he was only partially undressed, and went to the +door, which opened on to the verandah. It was not locked. He turned the +handle, opened it cautiously, and looked out. There was a faint light, +and at the end of the verandah he saw Craig Bellshaw coming towards him; +he was, like himself,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> only partially dressed. He did not wish Bellshaw +to think he was spying on him so he almost closed the door and listened.</p> + +<p>The pad of his bare feet on the boards sounded strange in the stillness.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw stopped when nearly opposite Glen's room. He was talking in a +weird voice; it sounded unnatural. As Glen listened he came to the +conclusion that Bellshaw was walking in his sleep; to make sure he +opened the door wide. He could easily make an excuse that he heard +someone prowling about and wanted to see who it was—if Bellshaw were +not asleep.</p> + +<p>The squatter faced him, his eyes wide open, but vacant. He stared +fixedly at Glen but did not see him.</p> + +<p>"He's fast asleep," thought Glen, and crept closer to him, not being +able to restrain his curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Don't struggle, you fool, or make that horrid row. I'll put you in that +hole if you do. Bite, will you, you vixen? I've had enough of you; +you've tired me out with your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> grumbling ways. Brought you here by +force! It's a lie. You came of your own free will. You knew why you came +to Mintaro."</p> + +<p>Bellshaw clutched the air with his hands as though trying to strangle +something. Glen watched every movement closely. He felt he was on the +eve of a discovery. Bellshaw went down on his knees and pressed the +boards with both hands.</p> + +<p>"Keep still, will you! Keep still," he muttered, "or I'll crush the life +out of you. She's quiet now. I'll leave her here. She'll die. There's no +place for her to go to. She'll wander about until she drops, and then +give up. That's the best way. No one can say I killed her. I'll leave +you here. It will give you some sort of a chance if it is a poor one."</p> + +<p>Bellshaw got up and began talking again. This time Glen knew he was +speaking to his buggy horses.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Bellshaw caught Glen by the arm. For a moment the shock +staggered him. The awakening was dangerous; he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> seemed about to faint. +With an effort he pulled himself together and glared at Glen Leigh.</p> + +<p>"What the devil are you doing prowling about on the verandah at this +time of night?" asked Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"I might ask the same question. I heard your footsteps. Naturally I +wanted to see who it was. You were walking in your sleep. I thought it +best not to wake you. I've heard it's dangerous," replied Glen.</p> + +<p>Craig Bellshaw shivered. He was thinking of what he might have said or +done, in Leigh's presence.</p> + +<p>"I'm troubled with sleep-walking," he said, "and have been for some +time. It's beastly. No doubt I do and say queer things for which I am +not responsible."</p> + +<p>Glen made no answer. He had heard sufficient to put him on what he +thought was the right track, and he could have strangled Bellshaw +without compunction. His hands itched to get at him, but he must bide +his time, and make his punishment more severe. A<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> quick death was too +good for this man, if what he, Glen, surmised was correct.</p> + +<p>"I advise you to go and rest," he remarked at last, "or you'll be fit +for nothing later on."</p> + +<p>"I'm always upset after this," said Bellshaw. "It unnerves me. If you +want to get away early don't mind me. You can have as many buckjumpers +as you care to take. Pick 'em where you like. I'll lend them to you. +When you've finished with them you can return them, or sell them, and +we'll divide the money."</p> + +<p>He spoke feverishly, hurriedly, evidently with the intention of +propitiating Leigh.</p> + +<p>"No thank you," answered Glen. "I prefer to buy right out. I'll pick +what I want, and a hundred pounds will more than cover it. A bargain's a +bargain. Besides if I buy the horses I'm under no obligation to you, and +I can do as I like."</p> + +<p>Glen left him, went into his room, and shut the door.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw walked to his room and sat down in a cane chair, cursing his +luck that he should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> have walked in his sleep with Glen in the house.</p> + +<p>What had he said?</p> + +<p>This question kept on repeating itself with monotonous regularity. It +sounded like the ticking of a clock in his head. On one occasion, when +he woke up suddenly, and found himself on the verandah, it all came back +to him how he acted in his sleep. He remembered it now. Had he said +anything that Leigh could get hold of?</p> + +<p>No, of course he hadn't. If he'd gone through the whole thing Leigh +would not have understood what he meant. He laughed at his momentary +fears. Glen Leigh might think him mad, but he would never guess at the +truth; it was impossible. He started. Leigh had seen Garry Backham. Had +Garry told him what he suspected? This was hardly likely. Why should he?</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh did not lie down again. He was piecing the threads of a +tragedy together, and Craig Bellshaw was depicted as a most hideous +villain, a monster deserving of slow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> torture, if what he, Leigh, +thought were true. He'd find out, get proof, and when there was +sufficient to go upon, Craig Bellshaw had better beware. No mercy would +be shown him. The scene when he found Clara Benny in his hut rose before +him. He clenched his fists, raised them above his head, and vowed +vengeance on Craig Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>Taking a piece of paper he wrote in pencil in large letters LIN SOO. +Dressing himself he went out. When he reached Bellshaw's door he pushed +the paper underneath. He got his horse, saddled it, and rode towards +Boonara.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>"A MAGNIFICENT BRUTE"</h3> + + +<p>It was late when Craig Bellshaw awoke from a restless slumber. His first +thoughts were about Glen Leigh, and the happenings of the night. He +wondered if he had gone. He hoped so; he had no desire to meet him again +at present.</p> + +<p>Opening the door he saw a piece of paper on the floor. Picking it up he +read the name Lin Soo written in pencil in large letters.</p> + +<p>He stared at it, wondering how it came there.</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh must have slipped it under the door. But why? What had he to +do with Lin Soo? Probably he had never heard of him, and yet there was +no one else to do it.</p> + +<p>Lin Soo. Supposing by some strange chance Glen Leigh had met the +Chinaman. Even so, it was not likely Lin Soo would say anything about +their transactions; he dare not. It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> flashed upon him he might have +mentioned the name in his ramblings. If so, what had he said in +connection with it? As he dressed he became nervous. If Glen Leigh had +an inkling of what had happened there would be trouble brewing. He, and +other keepers of the fence, had many grievances against Bellshaw which +they would be only too glad to pay off. He must try and find out what +had passed when he walked and talked in his sleep. It must be done +warily.</p> + +<p>"I'll see him before he returns to Sydney," he thought. "Even if he +heard things he had no business to, I can silence him. Murder is not so +easily shelved, and there's Joe Calder's death to account for."</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh arrived at Boonara, and next day set out for Five Rocks, with +Garry Backham and half a dozen good riders, used to the work, to round +up a mob of horses and make a selection.</p> + +<p>"The best plan will be," said Garry, "to drive 'em into the nearest +yard, which is about half a dozen miles away, and test<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> them. It will be +a tough job, but the men who are going with us are used to that sort of +work. They'll not mind how rough they are."</p> + +<p>They did not ride near Mintaro, and Glen had no intention of going there +again.</p> + +<p>As he rode along with Garry, he mentioned about Craig Bellshaw walking +in his sleep; he said he talked a lot and acted strangely.</p> + +<p>"What did he say?" asked Garry.</p> + +<p>"Something about leaving someone to die—a woman. He went through some +curious antics, as though he were struggling with her. At the finish he +said he'd leave her to wander about until she died. He must have +committed some dastardly deed or he'd never rave like that," said Glen.</p> + +<p>Garry was silent. Should he tell Glen how much he knew? There was no +necessity for it, and he might be dragged into trouble if he did.</p> + +<p>"I've never seen him walk in his sleep," he replied eventually, "but +he's a queer fellow, and has more on his conscience than I'd care to +carry."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I've heard of strange doings at Mintaro when I was on the fence," said +Glen.</p> + +<p>"What sort of doings?"</p> + +<p>"About women who came and stayed for a time and were sent away."</p> + +<p>"I'd rather say nothing about it," answered Garry.</p> + +<p>Glen did not press the subject; he could find out what he wanted later +on. In case it were necessary, he would put a straight question or two +to Garry.</p> + +<p>It was late when they arrived at Five Rocks and camped for the night. +The place was well named. Five large rocks rose from the ground in the +strangest manner. They were conical, smooth, not many yards apart. Their +formation was a strange freak of nature. They were probably the result +of a fierce upheaval in some far distant age, when natives and wild +animals were the only occupants of the vast territory.</p> + +<p>There was a water hole in the centre of the group, fed from the rocks, +and Garry said it was this which brought the horses round, for it was +seldom dry.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> + +<p>The six Boonara men were strong sturdy fellows used to a life of +hardships. They were not given to conversation and quickly rolled over, +with their saddles for pillows, and went to sleep.</p> + +<p>Garry and Glen talked for some time, but gradually they dropped off, and +the silence of the night reigned round the eight recumbent forms.</p> + +<p>As soon as daylight sprang upon them they were astir, and after a hasty, +scanty meal they set out to round up the horses.</p> + +<p>This was easier said than done. They traversed several miles before they +sighted a mob, but were rewarded by seeing at least fifty.</p> + +<p>"You'll be able to get what you want out of that lot," said Garry, "if +we can get 'em into the yard."</p> + +<p>"We'll manage that," answered one of the men. "I suppose the gates are +always open?"</p> + +<p>Garry said they were, and indicated the direction in which the horses +should be driven.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p> + +<p>The men set out to round them up on the side. Garry rode to the left, +Glen to the right, so as to guide them in the right direction as they +came along.</p> + +<p>The horses quickly scented danger, and started off, but were headed back +and driven at a wild tearing pace towards Garry and Glen.</p> + +<p>The pace became faster and Glen watched the horses as he rode at top +speed alongside them, and saw they were a good lot. He hoped their +vicious propensities had never been checked. They were all practically +unbroken. A few of them might have been handled and turned loose again, +but it was improbable.</p> + +<p>Towards the yards they went, the men shouting behind them. These yards +were erected with a view to driving horses, or cattle, into them with +the least trouble. They were at the end of a dried-up river between high +banks, whose strange formation Craig Bellshaw had taken advantage of. +The opening to the yards extended the whole<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> width of the pass, and +there were three large gates through which horses entering the +cul-de-sac were bound to go. The difficulty was to head the wild horses +into the opening. Once in they were easily driven into the yards.</p> + +<p>As luck would have it, the leader of the mob headed direct for the spot, +guided by Garry on the one side, and Glen on the other.</p> + +<p>It was a stern chase, and it said much for the horses Garry supplied +that they kept pace with the galloping mob. As the leader rushed into +the narrow channel the rest followed him pell-mell. The men closed in +after them, driving them along at full speed, rushing them through +before they realised they were caught. When this happened the din was +tremendous. The trapped horses gave vent to their feelings by kicking, +squealing, and biting in an extraordinary manner.</p> + +<p>The men rested themselves and their horses and watched them.</p> + +<p>"There are pretty near fifty," said Garry. "They're a good-looking lot. +It's the recent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> rain's done it. They've had more to eat than they've +had for months past."</p> + +<p>"It will make them the harder to mount," replied Glen.</p> + +<p>"Suppose we give 'em a rest for a night, and try our luck to-morrow. +They'll have been without food for about eighteen hours, and it may tame +them down," Garry suggested.</p> + +<p>This was agreed to and they camped for the night close to the yards.</p> + +<p>Next morning business commenced in earnest. Likely looking horses were +separated from the rest, and then the struggle began. The bulk of them +were hard to saddle, still harder to mount, but it takes more than a +savage, untamed buckjumper to conquer a man from the West.</p> + +<p>There were some stiff fights, and now and again a horse more desperate +than the rest managed to rid himself of his rider after a long struggle. +He was at once selected by Glen as one of his lot.</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh excited the admiration of the men by the way he rode a +tremendous horse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> about six or seven years old. He was a rough untamed +animal, probably a son of old Tear'em, Garry said. At any rate he was +very like that incorrigible savage. He stood nearly seventeen hands, and +had the strength of half a dozen ordinary wild horses.</p> + +<p>It took them half an hour to get the saddle and bridle on, and Glen was +another ten minutes before he got into his saddle.</p> + +<p>The Boonara men never forgot that mighty struggle. They talked about it +for years after, whenever buckjumpers were mentioned. It easily broke +all records as far as they were concerned.</p> + +<p>The huge animal was a prince among buckjumpers, and Glen had all his +work cut out to keep his seat. The horse bounded up and down as though +his legs were springs. One moment he was off the ground, on all fours, +his back arched like a bended bow, the next his fore feet were planted +firmly on the ground and his hind quarters elevated almost to the +perpendicular. He twirled and twisted in an extraordinary fashion, lay +down, crushed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> Glen's leg, rushed against the fence, did everything to +throw his grim rider, but without avail. At last he stood covered in +sweat, and quivering in every limb. It was then that Glen dismounted, +but when he tried to get into the saddle he found the horse ready for +another battle-royal.</p> + +<p>"He'll do, Garry. If anyone can ride him in Sydney they'll earn any +prize that may be offered. What a magnificent brute he is. If one could +only tame him—but I expect that's impossible," said Glen.</p> + +<p>"By Gad, you can ride above a bit," was Garry's admiring comment.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>THE BIG SHOW</h3> + + +<p>The horses selected were safely railed to Sydney. Bill Bigs had secured +stabling for them; such as it was it answered the purpose. They bore the +journey better than might have been expected, but there was some danger +and difficulty in getting them through the streets to Redfern. Once they +were safely housed Glen felt a difficult task was well done.</p> + +<p>He went to see Clara Benny. She welcomed him in her usual way, with a +smile and a kiss. These constant kisses embarrassed Glen, but he liked +them. They showed she had faith in him, and that gave him hope. He told +her where he had been, and what for, watching her closely all the time, +but there were no signs of recognition. Her memory in that direction was +still a blank.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p> + +<p>He had no doubt, after what he had heard and seen, that she was at +Mintaro with Craig Bellshaw, and that he had driven her away, after a +struggle with her, and left her to die a terrible death, which would +have happened had she not found her way to the hut. For this Bellshaw +should pay in full when the time came. Glen, however, had such a lot of +work in hand with the horses that he had no time for anything else. It +took a month to get them in hand so that they could be saddled quickly, +but their bucking propensities were encouraged in every way. They were +given full scope in this direction. Jim and Glen were constantly in the +saddle. The big horse threw them both more than once, until Glen fairly +mastered, but could not tame him.</p> + +<p>He was a big bay horse with a savage-looking head, and his strength was +great.</p> + +<p>They called him The Savage, which was appropriate, and he did not belie +his name.</p> + +<p>There were fourteen horses in all, and a cheque had been sent to Craig +Bellshaw for them.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p> + +<p>Jerry Makeshift came to a private exhibition, and was enthusiastic about +it. He gave the show valuable assistance in "The Sketch," spoke to many +of his press friends, and the buckjumpers were boomed well, so that +public excitement about them was roused to the highest pitch.</p> + +<p>The building was well adapted for the purpose. A ring was formed and +fenced in with stout posts and rails so that there would be no danger to +the spectators. On the opening night the place was packed. A challenge +had been issued. Two hundred pounds would be given to anyone who could +sit The Savage for ten minutes; assistance would be given to mount. +Fifty pounds was offered for riding half a dozen others, ten pounds for +the remainder, all ten minutes' spells.</p> + +<p>There were scores of men in Sydney and the surrounding districts who +thought they were equal to the various tasks set.</p> + +<p>Six well-known riders sent in their names. Two of them came from Wagga +with big<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> reputations, and one from Bathurst. They all tried The Savage. +The horse had an easy task, for he was no sooner mounted than he shot +riders through the air like rockets. Not one of them made the semblance +of a fight with him.</p> + +<p>Then Glen Leigh's turn came. He sprang into the saddle without +assistance and the battle commenced. Round and round the ring The Savage +bucked in a series of furious leaps. He kicked, squealed, fought +desperately, tried to bite Glen's leg, but all in vain; he stuck to his +seat in splendid style. The Savage finding these tactics of no avail, +threw himself down. Glen slipped out of the saddle. As the horse +struggled to his feet he sprang on again amidst a hurricane of applause. +At the end of a quarter of an hour he concluded his exhibition, and when +he stood in the ring holding The Savage tight by the bridle, the people +cheered him to the echo, and the building rang with the shouts. The +other riders were exciting, but paled before the performance of Glen +Leigh and The Savage.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p> + +<p>As the crowd left the building everybody was asking who Glen Leigh was, +and where he came from. He was the most wonderful rider they had seen.</p> + +<p>Jerry Makeshift had not given Glen away. He reserved the account he +intended to publish for the issue following the opening night. He made +good use of the material he had in hand. It so happened that "The +Sketch" came out in the afternoon of the next day, and a full account of +the "keeper of the fence" was given and the manner in which he had +captured the horses and brought them to Sydney.</p> + +<p>It was the genuineness of the show that attracted the people, and the +place was crowded every night. Money came rolling in and the promoters +were in high spirits.</p> + +<p>Ivor Hadwin, Bellshaw's trainer, had been a great rider of rough, +unbroken horses on his father's station, before they fell on evil times, +were ruined by drought and moneylenders, and came to Sydney. On the +station he had ridden the worst of buckjumpers,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> and he thought with a +little practice he might be able to stick on The Savage for ten minutes +and win the two hundred pounds. For four nights running he succeeded in +riding the horses for the lowest prizes. Then he won one of fifty +pounds, and Glen Leigh complimented him.</p> + +<p>"You'll have to try for the two hundred," he said to Ivor.</p> + +<p>"That's what I mean to do."</p> + +<p>"Will you allow us to advertise it?" asked Glen.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," answered Hadwin. "I've no objections. You've treated me +well, and paid me the money I have won."</p> + +<p>"We shall always do that, and I hope you have to draw the two hundred, +but I warn you The Savage is a demon, and you'll have to keep your eyes +open," said Glen.</p> + +<p>"I believe at one time I could ride as well as you, but training has +made me a bit soft," replied Hadwin.</p> + +<p>Strange to say Glen Leigh did not know Hadwin was a trainer. No one told +him, probably taking it for granted that he knew.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You train racehorses?" asked Glen.</p> + +<p>"Yes, at Randwick. Come and see me one day."</p> + +<p>"With pleasure," said Glen. "Who do you train for?"</p> + +<p>Ivor Hadwin smiled.</p> + +<p>"I wonder someone has not told you about me," he said.</p> + +<p>"I never asked. There is such a heap of things to do I've had no time, +and it matters little who wins the prizes," returned Glen.</p> + +<p>"I train for Craig Bellshaw," said Ivor.</p> + +<p>Glen started. This was strange, especially as the horses all came from +Mintaro.</p> + +<p>"I know him," he said.</p> + +<p>"So do I, too well," answered Ivor. "He's a hard man to please."</p> + +<p>"I daresay he is," Glen agreed.</p> + +<p>Someone called him away and he left Hadwin, saying he would call and see +him next morning.</p> + +<p>"I'll be there. Come about eleven," said Ivor.</p> + +<p>"What night will you attempt to ride The Savage?" asked Glen, looking +back.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Saturday."</p> + +<p>"That's the best night for us, thanks."</p> + +<p>Glen told Bill what had passed between them when he reached The +Kangaroo.</p> + +<p>Jerry Makeshift was there. "You mean to say you didn't know until +to-night who Ivor Hadwin was?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"And you made no enquiries?"</p> + +<p>"It didn't interest me. It was part of the show."</p> + +<p>"And no one enlightened you?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm blessed. That's funny; everybody knows Hadwin. I'm told he's +likely to win the Caulfield Cup, or the Melbourne Cup, or both, for +Bellshaw," said Jerry.</p> + +<p>"Has Bellshaw some good horses?" enquired Glen.</p> + +<p>"Yes, about a dozen in all, I think, and four or five above the average, +but I don't go in for racing much. Tom Roslyn, of 'The Racing Life,' +told me. He's the best turf judge we have on the press, and he can pick<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> +out good horses as easily as I can a bottle of wine."</p> + +<p>"Then he must be an uncommon judge," laughed Bill.</p> + +<p>"What's the name of the Cup horse?" asked Glen.</p> + +<p>"Barellan. He's five years old now, and has a nice weight, so Tom says. +I forget what it is," Jerry answered.</p> + +<p>"Here's Nick Gerard's list," put in Bill. "Barellan, 8st. 7lbs., in the +Melbourne Cup, 8st. 10lb. in the Caulfield Cup."</p> + +<p>"I'll ask Hadwin to let me have a look at him when I go there in the +morning," said Glen.</p> + +<p>"Have you bought a ticket in the big sweep on the Melbourne Cup yet?" +asked Jerry.</p> + +<p>"No, I forgot all about it," replied Glen.</p> + +<p>"I'll get one for you if you like," said Jerry.</p> + +<p>"I wish you would. Here's the money," and he handed him a sovereign.</p> + +<p>Jerry tossed it, "Heads a horse, tails a blank," he called.</p> + +<p>The coin fell on the table head up.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's a fair start, anyhow. Let's hope it will be a good 'un you +draw."</p> + +<p>Glen laughed.</p> + +<p>"I haven't much faith in sweeps. I was never tempted to throw money away +in them."</p> + +<p>"Have one in the Caulfield Cup as well?" suggested Jerry.</p> + +<p>"No, that will be sufficient," returned Glen. "It's a sovereign gone to +the bad."</p> + +<p>"Don't be too sure about that; it's your maiden effort, and may prove +successful," said Jerry.</p> + +<p>"Get me a ticket at the same time," said Bill.</p> + +<p>"All right, and I hope when I call here with them it will bring luck to +The Kangaroo," answered Jerry.</p> + +<p>"I can do with the cash," said Glen laughing, "Bill's got heaps."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3>MRS. PREVOST</h3> + + +<p>Glen Leigh went by the train to Randwick, and walked to Hadwin's +stables. The trainer was glad to see him. He liked him; something hearty +about Glen appealed to him.</p> + +<p>"We'll have a look round the horses first, if you care to see them," +said the trainer.</p> + +<p>"That's just what I want," replied Glen. "I'm fond of horses. When I was +a keeper on the fence old Ping was my only companion. I've got him in +Sydney. He's the queerest horse out; you'd be amused at him. I don't +suppose you'd consider him worth a fiver, but it would take a good many +fivers to buy him."</p> + +<p>"A bush horse, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, one of the best, a faithful old slave. We've been companions for +many years."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I like a man who's fond of horses. What a queer name—Ping."</p> + +<p>"And he's a queer horse," laughed Glen.</p> + +<p>They went round the stables. All the horses belonged to Craig Bellshaw; +they were a fair lot as far as Glen could judge.</p> + +<p>"That's Flash," said Ivor, pointing to a good-looking chestnut. "He's +rather smart."</p> + +<p>Glen eyed him over and came to the conclusion he was the best he had +seen so far. In the next box was Barellan. The brown horse looked well. +He was full of muscle, hard and clean.</p> + +<p>As they entered his box he turned and looked at them. When he saw the +trainer he seemed quite contented, knowing everything was all right when +he was there.</p> + +<p>"He's quiet enough," said Ivor. "Have a good look at him. He's a bit +different tempered from The Savage."</p> + +<p>"I hope so, for your sake," retorted Glen smiling, "or you stand a very +fair chance of being killed."</p> + +<p>"That's something to look forward to on Saturday night," Ivor answered.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p> + +<p>Glen went up to the horse and examined him well, passing his hand over +him, carefully taking in his points. It was difficult to find fault with +Barellan. If there was one it was his hocks, which were large and rather +unsightly, but there was nothing wrong with them. They were rather low +down, in the greyhound style. He had a splendid back and quarters, good +shoulders, neck and chest, a shapely head and a good forehead, and fine +eyes. He stood over sixteen hands.</p> + +<p>"What do you think of him?" Ivor asked.</p> + +<p>"He's a good-looking horse. He ought to gallop. He's built for it," +replied Glen.</p> + +<p>"So he can. He's the best I have by a long way, although some people +prefer Flash."</p> + +<p>"I don't," said Glen promptly. "He's in the Melbourne Cup, isn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, in both Cups," said the trainer.</p> + +<p>"Will he go for them both?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. It depends on the sweep-money, I expect. Bellshaw's +always insisted on having a cut out of the sweep with his horses."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I suppose that is a regular thing," said Glen.</p> + +<p>"Generally speaking it is, but he's greedy. He wants too much," Ivor +answered.</p> + +<p>Glen stayed to lunch, and they chatted about life in the West, and the +trainer told him about the doings at Randwick and elsewhere, interesting +him in some of the great horses and races he had seen.</p> + +<p>"I shall have a good try to win that two hundred on Saturday night," +said Ivor.</p> + +<p>"If you stick on for ten minutes you'll deserve it," replied Glen. "I'll +give you a bit of advice. If he throws you get out of the ring as quick +as you can, or he'll be on top of you before you know where you are."</p> + +<p>"He's not going to throw me," said the trainer confidently.</p> + +<p>Glen smiled. He had no wish to dishearten him, but he knew there was +little chance of his being successful.</p> + +<p>On Saturday night the building was crammed, every seat being taken. The +announcement that the well-known trainer, Ivor Hadwin,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> was going to +ride The Savage, and try to win the two hundred pounds, caused much +excitement.</p> + +<p>There were some good bouts before the event of the evening took place, +and when Ivor entered the ring he was loudly cheered. The trainer was +pleased with his reception. He had not received much of the world's +applause during his career.</p> + +<p>The way he mounted The Savage augured well for his success. The horse +appeared to know he had a man on his back who would give him "a good +game." For a moment The Savage stood still, then suddenly he sprang +straight into the air, all his feet off the ground, and his back arched. +Ivor had a severe wrench, but stuck to his seat. Round the ring the +horse went, backing and fighting in his most savage mood.</p> + +<p>Glen saw the horse was in a nasty temper and hoped the trainer would not +be hurt. That he would retain his seat for ten minutes he thought +impossible.</p> + +<p>Ivor Hadwin made no empty boast when he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> said at one time he believed he +rode as well as Glen Leigh. Considering the small amount of practice he +had his seat was splendid, and for five minutes The Savage tried in vain +to throw him. Glen, who was in the ring, encouraged him by frequent +shouts.</p> + +<p>Six minutes passed and still Hadwin was in the saddle, but Glen fancied +he saw signs that he was tiring. If this were so it was all up with his +chance.</p> + +<p>Again The Savage stood still, gathering his strength. His eyes rolled, +his nostrils were extended and red. Foam came from his mouth, but his +limbs were set, and there was no quivering. It was all determination, +and no excitement.</p> + +<p>Away he went again, round and round the ring, twisting and twirling, +leaping sideways, banging Hadwin against the posts. Then he went to the +centre of the ring, turned suddenly, galloped round at top speed. In a +moment he stopped dead and springing into the air gave a terrific buck, +squealing like a mad horse as he did so.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p> + +<p>The trainer was tired. The struggle had been tremendous, and the last +plunge proved too much for him. He was thrown clean out of the saddle, +and fell with a thud. Remembering Glen's warning to get out of the ring +as quickly as possible, he was scrambling to his feet, when The Savage +rushing at him, knocked him down, and trampled him with his forefeet.</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh sprang forward as soon as the trainer fell, and it was well +he did. He arrived just in the nick of time, before any more serious +injury than a few bruises was done. He seized The Savage by the bridle +and pulled him back, unconsciously showing his great strength; there was +a cheer as he held the brute in hand while the trainer left the ring. +Before The Savage had time to switch round Glen was in the saddle, and +another tussle took place, but it was an easy task for the rider this +time. The trainer had given the horse a severe dose, which had had due +effect.</p> + +<p>Glen dismounted and announced from the ring that a cheque for +twenty-five pounds would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> be handed Ivor Hadwin for the splendid way he +had handled The Savage; a roar of cheering greeted this generous offer.</p> + +<p>There was one woman in the vast audience who watched Glen Leigh all the +time he was in the ring. She was a dark, handsome, well dressed woman, +with fine eyes, a good figure, rather inclined to be stout, and she +evidently knew many people present. She had been several times, and had +always given her whole attention to Glen's performance with The Savage. +This alone appeared to interest her.</p> + +<p>She wished she knew him. She was about forty years of age, perhaps a +year or two older, and her life had been a peculiar one. She had married +at the age of eighteen, and her husband deserted her when she was +twenty. At this time she went as a barmaid in one of the numerous +private bars that then existed in Sydney. Some of these were veritable +dens of vice, but she kept herself respectable for several years. When +she was thirty she had saved sufficient money to take a small<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> +boarding-house at North Shore. Shortly afterwards she was introduced to +Craig Bellshaw, and from North Shore she went to Macquarie Street; for +the last year she had lived at Manley. She did not like Bellshaw, but he +was useful to her and not ungenerous, and as he left her pretty much to +herself she was fairly contented. She was one of those women who, given +a better chance early in life, would probably have made good use of it. +She had plenty of confidence, boldness if you will, but she was not +vicious; her life was irreproachable, except for Bellshaw's coming into +it, and she lived quietly at Manley, with her maid, and a Chinaman cook, +who was a perfect marvel at concocting curious and succulent dishes. Her +name was Rosa Prevost, and her neighbours, although they did not quite +understand her, found her affable, generous and hospitable. In fact Mrs. +Prevost was popular in her surroundings. She knew Ivor Hadwin, through +Bellshaw, having been to the stables with him. If she wished to be +introduced to Glen Leigh the trainer would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> oblige her, but she did not +care to ask him; she was too proud.</p> + +<p>Her house at Manley was frequented by several well-known people such as +Jerry Makeshift, Tom Roslyn, and other journalists, and many actors and +actresses, several of whom knew her past life, and how she had been +treated in her young days.</p> + +<p>She was destined to have her desire for an introduction to Glen Leigh +fulfilled sooner than she expected.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3>JEALOUSY</h3> + + +<p>"Yes, I know Glen Leigh—a most interesting man," said Jerry Makeshift.</p> + +<p>He was at Sea View, Mrs. Prevost's house at Manley. She had invited him +there with the purpose to find out something about the daring rider of +The Savage.</p> + +<p>"Tell me about him. I admire his riding," she said.</p> + +<p>Jerry gave her a full account of Glen's career as far as he knew it. She +had read "The Sketch," but he embellished what he had written there for +her gratification.</p> + +<p>"So he was a keeper of the fence," she said thoughtfully. "Fancy a man +like that being exiled there. I wonder why he went?"</p> + +<p>"A woman probably," said Jerry.</p> + +<p>"That's always the way when a man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> banishes himself from society. It's +always a woman who is the cause," she said.</p> + +<p>"And don't you think nine times out of ten it is so?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No, the man is often more to blame than the woman. Take my case."</p> + +<p>"Which is an exception," he said smiling.</p> + +<p>"Will you bring him here? I should like to meet him. Do you think he +would come?"</p> + +<p>"I'll try. He's not a shy man, but he doesn't go out much. Are you +anxious to know him?" asked Jerry.</p> + +<p>"He interests me," she answered.</p> + +<p>"Then I'll try and fix it up. Only promise me not to draw him into your +clutches; you are so fascinating. Look at me, I worship you."</p> + +<p>"Jerry, you're a humbug. You don't care a straw for anyone except +yourself," she laughed.</p> + +<p>"That's all you know. I have done some generous actions in my time, that +it won't do to speak about; it would sound too much like blowing my own +trumpet," he said.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> + +<p>Jerry had some difficulty in inducing Glen Leigh to go to Manley, but +succeeded at last, and they went together.</p> + +<p>"Who is Mrs. Prevost?" asked Glen.</p> + +<p>Jerry explained as much as he thought proper. There was no occasion to +mention Bellshaw. If his name cropped up in conversation it would not be +his fault.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Prevost was agitated. She almost wished she had not asked Jerry to +bring him, and yet she was desirous of making Glen's acquaintance. +Already, before she knew him, he had a peculiar fascination for her. She +felt angry because it was so. The feeling was quite new and strange; +hitherto she had been cold and calculating. She knew all this would +vanish where Glen Leigh was concerned.</p> + +<p>They arrived before lunch, and when Glen saw Mrs. Prevost he was at once +struck with her peculiar charm of manner. No sooner was he in her +presence than all her doubts and agitation vanished, and she exerted +herself to her utmost to please him.</p> + +<p>Glen was quite willing to be pleased by this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> handsome woman, whose +preference for him was already beginning to be marked.</p> + +<p>Jerry smiled as he watched her. He knew her powers. No woman had ever +gone so near to capturing him as she, but he had steeled himself against +her. His career did not include a wife; he could not afford the luxury, +he said.</p> + +<p>It was a nice luncheon. Glen thoroughly enjoyed it, and complimented +Mrs. Prevost on the possession of such an excellent cook.</p> + +<p>"He's a Chinaman," she said smiling. "One of the despised heathens, but +I have had him several years, and he has served me well. I found him."</p> + +<p>"Found him!" exclaimed Glen.</p> + +<p>"Yes. It's quite correct; strange though it seems."</p> + +<p>"Where did you find him?"</p> + +<p>"Some years ago when he was quite young. He lived with his uncle in +Lower George Street. He offended the great man in some way, and he +turned him out of the house. He was wandering about when I came along. +He spoke to me, pleaded hard for me to make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> him my servant. Strange, +was it not? Something prompted me to take him in. I did, and have never +regretted it. He appears to have one set purpose in life, to pay his +uncle, Lin Soo, back in his own coin, and have his revenge. Most +unchristian-like isn't it? But of course he's a heathen," she said +laughing.</p> + +<p>"Lin Soo is his uncle!" said Glen.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Why? Do you know him?"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly, but I know of him. He keeps an infamous den in Lower +George Street."</p> + +<p>"I thought it was a tea shop," she said.</p> + +<p>"To outward appearances, but inside it's an opium den, a gambling hell, +and worse," Glen replied.</p> + +<p>"Worse!" she exclaimed enquiringly.</p> + +<p>Glen did not care to pursue the subject and she asked no further +questions.</p> + +<p>No mention was made of Craig Bellshaw, and Glen left, not knowing she +was intimate with the squatter. He promised to call again. She knew by +his ready acceptance that she had made a favourable impression, and she +was more pleased than she had been for many a day.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> She walked to the +steamer with them, and when the boat left sat down on a seat at one side +of the wharf. Why should she not have her share of happiness in life? It +had been denied her so far. There had been riotous living, and much +pleasure, but no peace, no contentment. It was all a struggle, and part +of a game which she had been forced to play, but never cared for.</p> + +<p>She walked slowly back to her house, thinking all the time, hoping, +wishing as she had never wished before. If a man like Glen Leigh had +come into her life years ago, how different everything would have been. +She felt she had great capacity for making a man she loved happy. She +was in the prime of life, good-looking, robust, full of health and +spirits, and she did not lack money. Why should she not find a fitting +mate? A man who would condone the past, forget, or shut his eyes to it, +and love her for herself. Glen Leigh was a man after her own heart, the +stamp of man she had always admired. No matter what he thought of her, +or whether they were merely acquaintances,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> she would never forget him. +She made a firm resolve to try and win him; she would exert all her +powers to that end. She craved for the real love of a man to meet the +love she knew she had to give. It would not be half-hearted love or cold +surrender. She wanted the real thing, not a sham. She had had too much +of shams; she was sick of them. She longed for honesty, not deception, +pretence, lies. There was Craig Bellshaw. He must be made to understand +that she desired to sever all connections with him. She would write and +tell him so. If he insisted on seeing her for a personal explanation she +supposed she must grant him an interview, but it would be the last; she +vowed it.</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh little knew the storm of feeling he had raised in Mrs. +Prevost. Had anyone told him he would have laughed at the idea. In +answer to Jerry he said he thought Mrs. Prevost a very nice woman.</p> + +<p>"Handsome, eh?" said Jerry.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and she's a jolly good sort I should say."</p> + +<p>"So she is. I wonder some fellow hasn't snapped her up long ago," Jerry +answered.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She's better as she is," said Glen.</p> + +<p>"Not she. In her case I should say she ought to have a mate. She looks a +woman who could make a man happy."</p> + +<p>"There's no telling," declared Glen gloomily.</p> + +<p>The Buckjumping Show was a huge success, and a large ground had been +taken for it in Melbourne for a month, during which time the Caulfield +and Melbourne Cups would be decided.</p> + +<p>Glen was surprised when his share was calculated by Bill Bigs. It was +far more than he had expected in his most sanguine moments. Jim Benny +was given a bonus with which he was more than contented. Nearly all +Jim's spare time was spent with Clara, who was in perfect health, and +had developed into a very pretty woman. Her mind, however, was still a +blank as regards everything before she came to Glen Leigh's hut. Glen +thought some sudden shock might restore the lost memories. At the same +time the effect might be serious. Probably it would be better for her +peace to remain as she was. Glen's feelings towards her were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> difficult +to analyse. He knew by the way she always greeted him that she regarded +him as a father. At first he thought he loved her, but gradually this +feeling lessened, and he knew it was pity and compassion that had grown +in him, not love. He was more solicitous towards her than he had ever +been, spoke kindly, looked after her every comfort, and she trusted and +idolised him—but not as a lover.</p> + +<p>With Jim it was different. He was younger than Glen, and there was no +doubt about his affection for her. She treated him differently from +Glen, was more reserved, never kissed him; she shrank away when he came +too near, and was nervous in his presence.</p> + +<p>Jim noticed all this and misunderstood. He thought her love was all for +Glen Leigh, and this embittered him. He had not the strength of +character of the elder man, could not stand trials so well, was soon +cast down and dispirited. He had seen her kiss Glen when they met—she +always did—and yet when he came near her she shrank away.</p> + +<p>Glen seemed to get the best out of life, while he, Jim, had hardly +anything to look forward to.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p> + +<p>He forgot what Glen had done for him. A growing jealousy rose against +his comrade; such feelings were easily roused in him.</p> + +<p>"I must know what he means, what she means," said Jim to himself. "It's +torturing me. I can't stand it—I won't."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h3>A QUESTION OF JOCKEYS</h3> + + +<p>Craig Bellshaw's life at Mintaro was a burden to him; if his time had +not been occupied there is no telling what might have happened. During +the day he was constantly out of doors, but at night, his lonely dinner +ended, he sat down and brooded. There were many actions in his life that +would not bear the searchlight. He did not regret them; he was hardened. +What he missed was the presence of a woman. It could not be called +companionship, because he never gave his friendship fully to anyone. It +would soon be time for him to go to Sydney and see his horses do their +work for the big Victorian Meeting. He had great hopes of Barellan +winning the Melbourne Cup, and thought Flash had a chance in the +Caulfield Race. He heard from his trainer regularly, and the reports +were favourable. Letters<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> for Mintaro were left at Boonara by the mail +coach which came twice a week.</p> + +<p>He read the account of the buckjumping exhibition, and begrudged Bill +Bigs and Glen Leigh their success. They were his horses; why had he not +thought of such a show and run it himself? He always begrudged fortune's +favours to others.</p> + +<p>He had been uneasy ever since he found the piece of paper with Lin Soo +written on it pushed under his door. He tried to persuade himself it +meant nothing, but he knew different. It was a warning and he wondered +how much Glen Leigh knew. Then there was Garry Backham. He must see him +before he went to Sydney and find out how the land lay in that quarter.</p> + +<p>His man brought the post-bag and placed it on the table. Craig unlocked +it and took out the letters and papers. He opened one from Ivor Hadwin, +who gave favourable accounts of the progress of all his horses, and +prophesied a successful campaign in Victoria. Barellan was specially +mentioned. No horse could be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> doing better; he had come on by leaps and +bounds and was at least ten pounds better than when he ran at Randwick.</p> + +<p>"If he is he'll win the Cup," said Craig.</p> + +<p>He placed the letter on one side to answer; the post-bag had to be at +Boonara next day. There were several bills, some circulars, newspapers, +and one or two packages. A letter, directed in a lady's hand, claimed +his attention. He knew the writing; it was from Mrs. Prevost.</p> + +<p>"She wants more money, I suppose," he muttered. "She'll have to want. +I've been too openhanded with her, and she's not a bit grateful. Women +never are."</p> + +<p>As he read the letter his face became gloomy: it was not pleasant to +look at. The contents angered him. She expressed her intention of +severing all connection with him, said she had no desire to see him +again, and much more to the same effect.</p> + +<p>Craig Bellshaw was in a rage. He considered Mrs. Prevost a useful +adjunct to his visits to Sydney. There was always a house to go<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> to, +where he could be sure of comfort, and the presence of a woman who was +good to look upon; and now she coolly said she had no desire to see him +again. There were no words of apology or respect. She repudiated the +bargain, or what he considered the bargain, between them. There must be +some solid reason for it, and the only one he could think of was another +man. She would find he was not to be treated in this cavalier fashion. +Some men might stand it; he would not.</p> + +<p>He made up his mind to go to Sydney at once. There were plenty of hands +at Mintaro, and his new overseer would look to things. He announced his +intention of going next day.</p> + +<p>He started in the early morning, arriving at Boonara about eleven +o'clock; from there he would take the coach to Bourke. He went to Garry +Backham's, and asked him if there was anything he could do for him in +Sydney.</p> + +<p>"He's mighty polite," thought Garry, "there's some mischief afoot."</p> + +<p>They talked for some time, and Craig said. "About the money I lent you +to buy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> this place, I've thought it over; you're welcome to it. You were +always reliable when you were with me and did your work well."</p> + +<p>"He's changed his tune," thought Garry.</p> + +<p>"You can consider yourself free of that debt," said Craig.</p> + +<p>"I thought you'd come round to my way of thinking," replied Garry, who +knew well enough why he had suddenly become generous.</p> + +<p>"It was always my intention to make you a present of it," Craig +declared.</p> + +<p>"Then why didn't you do it at first?"</p> + +<p>"Because I wished to see what sort of man you were, and how you'd take +it."</p> + +<p>"Glen Leigh and Bill Bigs have done well in Sydney with the show," said +Garry.</p> + +<p>"It's lucky they got some of my horses. He seems to have picked out the +right sort."</p> + +<p>"Trust him for that. The fellow they call The Savage is a ripper. He's +by old Tear'em, I'll swear. I never saw such a brute, but Leigh mastered +him as soon as he was yarded."</p> + +<p>"Everybody seems to think he's a wonderful man," said Craig.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p> + +<p>"So he is. They're few and far between," answered Garry. "I see your +horses are doing good work for the Cups. Do you fancy them?"</p> + +<p>"Barellan and Flash both have chances."</p> + +<p>"I've got a couple of tickets in the sweep on the Melbourne Cup," said +Garry.</p> + +<p>"If you draw Barellan I shall expect you to stump up a good round sum +out of your lot," Bellshaw told him.</p> + +<p>"You'll get nothing out of me if I draw him, but it's about a million to +one I don't," retorted Garry.</p> + +<p>"Whoever draws him will have to give me a cut out of the sweep or +they'll stand a poor chance of getting a run for their money," said +Craig.</p> + +<p>"You don't mean to say you'd scratch Barellan for a race like the +Melbourne Cup merely because you were not offered anything out of the +sweep?" Garry asked.</p> + +<p>"I would. No man shall get the better of me. It's only fair. I have all +the expense incurred over the horse."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then you're not much of a sportsman."</p> + +<p>"Just as good as anyone else," returned Craig.</p> + +<p>"Well, if I happen to draw him you can scratch him. You'll not get me to +lay you anything," said Garry.</p> + +<p>When Bellshaw arrived in Sydney he went to Hadwin's house at Randwick, +where there was always a room for him. The trainer would have preferred +his staying elsewhere, but could raise no objections. The horses pleased +him, Barellan especially. He seemed in rare fettle, and the trainer said +no horse could possibly have done better.</p> + +<p>"You'll have to look out for a jockey soon, or they'll all be snapped +up. There is likely to be a big field, thirty runners or thereabouts," +said Ivor.</p> + +<p>"What about Nicholl?"</p> + +<p>"He'd be all right if you could get him."</p> + +<p>"Is he engaged?"</p> + +<p>"Not that I know of."</p> + +<p>"Then what's to prevent me engaging him?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> + +<p>Hadwin hesitated, then said, "He'll want a big fee."</p> + +<p>"And can't I pay it?" thundered Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"You can pay it. The question is will you?" said the trainer.</p> + +<p>"If it's reasonable. What will he want?"</p> + +<p>"A hundred at least."</p> + +<p>"Then he'll not get it. I'm not going to pay any jockey a hundred, win +or lose. If Barellan wins it's a different matter."</p> + +<p>"Shall I see him about it or will you?" asked Ivor.</p> + +<p>"You'd better see him. If he asked me that figure there's no telling +what I'd say to him," Bellshaw answered.</p> + +<p>Hadwin saw Nicholl on the training ground next morning. Bellshaw was +there, standing some distance away.</p> + +<p>"Will you ride Barellan in the Melbourne Cup?" asked Ivor.</p> + +<p>"What sort of a chance has he?"</p> + +<p>"A winning chance. You can have the leg up on him this morning; he's +just coming out."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p> + +<p>"All right," agreed Nicholl.</p> + +<p>"Then come with me," said the trainer.</p> + +<p>When Barellan came out with Nicholl up there was a stir among the +watchers. Luke Nicholl was one of the best jockeys. There were few to +equal him, and it was known he had not a mount in the Cup, as he +declined to tie himself down. His appearance on Barellan at once set +tongues wagging as to the possibility of his riding the horse in the +Cup. Nicholl liked the way Barellan moved. He knew he was a good game +animal, and 8st. 7lb. was a nice weight. He could do it comfortably.</p> + +<p>"He moves well," said Nicholl, when he dismounted.</p> + +<p>"You'll find him a far different horse in a race. He's not a track +horse," said Ivor. "Will you accept the mount?"</p> + +<p>"It all depends."</p> + +<p>"What on?"</p> + +<p>"The amount to be paid me."</p> + +<p>"What do you want?"</p> + +<p>"A couple of hundred."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Win or lose?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"He'll never give that. I doubt if he'll give a hundred, but come over +to my place and talk it over. I'd like you to be on him, Luke, because I +think he'll just about win," said the trainer.</p> + +<p>"You can't expect me to ride him without I get a good fee," answered +Nicholl. "I'm worth it, eh?"</p> + +<p>"You are, and if I had the arranging of it I'd give you fair terms. +You'll just suit Barellan; he wants a lot of riding. He's a lazy beggar, +and you know how to handle such horses."</p> + +<p>"When shall I come over?"</p> + +<p>"After breakfast."</p> + +<p>"I'll be there soon after nine," said Nicholl, "but you can tell him I +must have my price. I've not worked my way to the top of the ladder +without trouble, and I mean to get what I'm worth."</p> + +<p>"I'll do my best, but don't be hasty over it, or you'll regret it," +replied Ivor.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p> + +<p>Something in the trainer's earnest manner appealed to the jockey.</p> + +<p>"We've always been friends," he said. "I'd like to ride a big winner for +you."</p> + +<p>"Then ride Barellan. He's one of the best horses I ever saw," said the +trainer.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<h3>MRS. PREVOST'S DILEMMA</h3> + + +<p>There was a tough skirmish when Nicholl met Craig Bellshaw at Hadwin's, +but eventually the owner of Barellan gave way, mainly owing to his +trainer's representations and persuasion, and settled with the jockey to +ride both his horses, Flash at Caulfield, and Barellan at Flemington, +for two hundred, win or lose, five per cent. on the stakes, and five per +cent. on any sweep money that might be forthcoming. Having fixed this +up, with a good deal of grumbling, Bellshaw set out for Manley to see +Mrs. Prevost, who was not aware he was in Sydney.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw was in a bad temper. Things were all awry, and even the thought +of winning the Melbourne Cup with Barellan did not soothe him. It was a +disagreeable surprise<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> to Mrs. Prevost when she heard who her visitor +was.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw made no bones about the matter. He asked her what she meant by +writing him such a letter after all he had done for her; he upbraided +her in no measured terms, used harsh names, and behaved somewhat +brutally. It was his way with women.</p> + +<p>She resented his conduct and replied forcibly. He saw she was +determined, and this angered him still more. There was a scene, they +lost their tempers, and mutual recriminations were the result. Mrs. +Prevost was expecting Glen Leigh for lunch and wished to get rid of +Bellshaw before he arrived. She dreaded their meeting, not on his +account, but for the effect it might have on Leigh, and her influence +with him. Bellshaw, however, did not seem in any hurry to go. He was +loth to give her up; in his way he liked her.</p> + +<p>"The fact is," he said, "you've taken up with someone else. I warn you +he shall know all about you."</p> + +<p>"You are cad enough to do that?" she asked.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You can call me names if you wish; I don't care, but I'll make it +mighty unpleasant for you," he said.</p> + +<p>There was a ring at the front door. Mrs. Prevost was at her wits' end +how to act. It was no doubt Glen Leigh.</p> + +<p>She left the room hurriedly, and opened the door herself. It was Glen +Leigh. She took him into the front room, and said her maid had just gone +out; she promised to return in a few minutes, and left him.</p> + +<p>Glen thought this strange. She was agitated; something must have upset +her. He wondered what it was.</p> + +<p>Craig Bellshaw also wondered why she had gone out of the room. He heard +her open the door, and someone come in. Who was it? The voice sounded +like a man's.</p> + +<p>She gave him a hint that he had better be going.</p> + +<p>"Not until I have seen who your visitor is," he said.</p> + +<p>"If I have a visitor it is no business of yours," she retorted.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It is. I am still interested in you even if you treat me badly," he +said.</p> + +<p>What was she to do? How could she prevent a meeting between him and Glen +Leigh? She cudgelled her brains but was at a loss to find a plan. +Bellshaw did not seem inclined to move.</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh waited a quarter of an hour and became restless. What +detained her? He heard voices in the next room, but could not +distinguish who was speaking. Perhaps she had a visitor. If so, why did +she not tell him?</p> + +<p>"I must ask you to leave my house," she said desperately.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw laughed.</p> + +<p>"Your house?" he sneered.</p> + +<p>"Yes, mine. You did not know I had bought it."</p> + +<p>"Have you paid for it?"</p> + +<p>"I have, if that's any consolation to you."</p> + +<p>"And you wish me to believe that? I wonder where you got the money +from?"</p> + +<p>"It was my money. I am not without means," she answered indignantly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p> + +<p>He laughed as he got up, but there was an evil look in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"I'll go. I don't wish to interfere with your pleasures, or any +conquests you may make, but I've not done with you, I promise you that," +said Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>He took up his hat and opened the door. She followed him. Would he go +into the front room?</p> + +<p>Her heart beat fast. She felt faint. It was a trying moment.</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh might see him leave the house, but he would not know who he +was; if Bellshaw saw him there was no telling what might happen.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw passed the door of the room, opened the front door, and walked +away without saying another word, or even raising his hat. It was a +tremendous relief now he was gone; she waited a few minutes to regain +her composure, and then with a faint smile, entered the front room.</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh was looking out of the window; he recognised Craig Bellshaw +and was so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> astonished he did not hear her open the door. Scores of +questions crowded into his mind as he saw the owner of Mintaro walking +away; the main questions were how came he to Mrs. Prevost's, and for +what purpose?</p> + +<p>She saw Glen with his back turned to her, and knew he had seen her +visitor; she was not aware Leigh knew him, and of his doings elsewhere +of which she was in ignorance; she had, as yet, no conception of the +depths of infamy to which Bellshaw had sunk.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry to keep you waiting so long, but I had a visitor," she said.</p> + +<p>"I saw him leave the house," said Glen, turning sharply round.</p> + +<p>"He's an old friend; I have known him many years." She could not make +him out. He was looking at her steadily; his eyes seemed to pierce her.</p> + +<p>"I know him," said Glen quietly. "I did not expect to see him in <i>your</i> +house."</p> + +<p>"You know him!" she exclaimed aghast, the colour deserting her cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Do you know him well?" he asked.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, but why do you ask in such a strange way?"</p> + +<p>"I do not think you know what Craig Bellshaw really is. I am sure you do +not. If you did he would never have been admitted to your house," said +Glen.</p> + +<p>What was she about to hear? She must learn more; how was she to excuse +herself to him? What if he and Bellshaw met? There would be revelations, +her backsliding would be magnified a hundred times; she must have the +first say no matter what it cost her.</p> + +<p>"What is he?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"A bad man, almost a murderer. I dare not tell you what has happened at +Mintaro. You would be overwhelmed with shame to think you ever had +dealings with, or ever took the hand of such a man," said Glen +seriously.</p> + +<p>She looked very charming in her distress. Even Glen Leigh would have +been very dense had he failed to see the appeal in her eyes, or to +recognise that she liked him very much indeed.</p> + +<p>No woman had ever appealed to him quite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> in the same way as Mrs. +Prevost; he had thought a good deal about her since he saw her last.</p> + +<p>"Tell me about him," she said.</p> + +<p>"What was he doing here?" asked Glen who doubted everything where Craig +Bellshaw was concerned.</p> + +<p>"He came to see me, not at my request, but I was not surprised. I had +written to him at Mintaro telling him—" she hesitated.</p> + +<p>Glen waited. Should he help her out? He thought he could. Rage was +surging up in him, not against Mrs. Prevost, but against Bellshaw. Was +she another of his victims?</p> + +<p>That was hardly possible; yet there were unmistakable signs of acute +distress at the situation in which she was placed. As Glen thought, a +sudden wave of feeling overwhelmed him, and would not be beaten back. He +loved this woman. By some strange fatality Bellshaw was connected with +her as he had been with the other woman. He felt a mad desire to rush +after Bellshaw and kill him. This passed in a few seconds; then he said, +in answer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> to her hesitation, "Telling him you never wished to see him +again."</p> + +<p>She looked at him in great surprise, feeling intense relief. This man +understood her, because he knew Craig Bellshaw for what he was. Already +he had forgiven her without the asking. He did not blame her, but the +man. In that case he guessed some of the truth and the rich blood +crimsoned her cheeks. She bowed her head; then she looked straight at +him and said, "That is what I wrote him—that I never wished to see him +again. I ordered him to leave the house, my house, when you saw him go. +I will never admit him again."</p> + +<p>"I am glad of that," said Glen. "Very glad. When did you write to him?"</p> + +<p>It was the truth she would tell him.</p> + +<p>"The day after you came here with Jerry," she said.</p> + +<p>Glen smiled.</p> + +<p>"What decided you to write?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"You did."</p> + +<p>Again he smiled.</p> + +<p>"I wonder how that happened?" he said.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Can't you guess?" she answered in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"No, at least not yet. Later on I'll try—with your permission."</p> + +<p>"You have it now. I want a friend—like you."</p> + +<p>"You don't think he'd dare to come here again?" asked Glen savagely.</p> + +<p>"There is no telling what he might do. Try and avoid him."</p> + +<p>"Why should I?"</p> + +<p>"He's a dangerous man."</p> + +<p>Glen laughed.</p> + +<p>"I'm more than a match for him in many ways," he replied.</p> + +<p>After lunch she asked him to tell her about Craig Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"I will tell you one terrible thing which I believe to be quite true," +he said. "I am waiting to find out. It is a matter of time, and you must +promise not to repeat what I tell you."</p> + +<p>She readily gave her promise and he told her in a graphic narrative all +about the woman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> who came to his hut, what happened there, and since her +recovery. He concealed nothing, not even about Lin Soo. He thought, in +justice, she ought to know what manner of man Craig Bellshaw was.</p> + +<p>As she listened, horrified, believing every word, she felt deeply +humiliated when she thought what Bellshaw had been in her life; she +shuddered with repulsion.</p> + +<p>"Bring her here," she said. "Let her be my companion. I may be able to +call back her lost memories. I will love her for all she has suffered. +You will trust her with me, will you not?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<h3>THE DRAWER OF BARELLAN</h3> + + +<p>They decided to allow Clara to go to Mrs. Prevost's, and Glen took her +there. She was given a kindly welcome. Mrs. Prevost was glad to have +her, liked her at once. The feeling was mutual. Glen felt he had left +her in good hands, that she would be happy and comfortable.</p> + +<p>"Don't let Bellshaw see her if by any chance he calls," said Glen, "but +he will be going to Melbourne for the Cup meetings, and our show leaves +to-morrow. I shall not see you again for several weeks."</p> + +<p>"I shall look forward to your return. I hope you will do well there," +she answered.</p> + +<p>"I think we shall. There is no reason why we should not do even better +than in Sydney."</p> + +<p>As Glen was leaving, having bid good-bye<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> to Clara, he said, "On my +return I may have something to tell you; something which I hope will be +for our happiness."</p> + +<p>She smiled brightly, guessing what he meant. There was a prospect of +sailing into a peaceful harbour after a stormy life. Glen Leigh was +indeed a man. He had not even questioned her about the past, or her +relations with Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>The horses, and all the paraphernalia of the show, went to Melbourne by +steamer, Glen and Jim going with them. During the short voyage Glen +thought Jim taciturn and ill-tempered. He asked him the cause.</p> + +<p>"I'm sick of life," said Jim, "I never seem to get anything out of it. +You and Bill have all the luck."</p> + +<p>"I don't think you've done so badly," objected Glen, "and now you have a +share in the show. What more do you want?"</p> + +<p>"A good deal more. I want happiness, and I don't seem in the way of +getting it."</p> + +<p>"Why not? What troubles you? Tell me, lad; I may be able to help you."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then, as they sat on deck, Jim poured out the vials of his ill-tempered +wrath on Glen's head. He told how he loved Clara, but that she avoided, +shunned him. He complained that it was very hard lines he, Glen, should +come between them. For a long time he went on grumbling, and Glen +listened to him patiently not saying a word. He let him exhaust himself +before he made any reply.</p> + +<p>"Jim, you're a fool," said Glen. "When she first came across my path and +found her way to my hut, as I sat and nursed her back to life, you +helping me, I thought I loved her. I was sure of it. That same feeling +possessed me when we came to Sydney. It remained with me until something +happened which opened my eyes, something totally unexpected. She put her +arms round my neck and kissed me."</p> + +<p>"I know," said Jim. "I know. She always does. She loves you."</p> + +<p>Glen smiled as he said, "You're a bit shallow, Jim. You can't see far. I +knew when she kissed me she would never love me like that, so I gave it +up. She regarded me as a father,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> that was all, and I'm quite contented +she should. I've found out the feeling I had for her was not that of a +lover. I love her, I always shall, because I rescued her from death. +It's only natural. You've no need to fear me as a rival. I love another +woman, not her."</p> + +<p>Jim's face brightened. He knew Glen spoke the truth; he always did. It +clouded again as he thought how she avoided him.</p> + +<p>"The reason she doesn't kiss you," said Glen, "is because she feels +different towards you. She doesn't think it would be right. I've watched +her, and I think if she does not love you now she will in days to come. +She'll miss you when you are away from her in Melbourne. Probably she'll +talk to Mrs. Prevost about you. Wait till you come back and then see how +the land lies. She's not fit to marry yet, not strong enough. It will be +better to wait until she recovers her memory."</p> + +<p>"She may never recover it," said Jim.</p> + +<p>"She will, I'm sure of it, and through Mrs. Prevost, who will help her. +She's a sympathetic woman, and I told her all about it,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> everything. +She'll do all in her power to bring back her lost memory; she said she +would," Glen answered.</p> + +<p>After this conversation Jim was a different man.</p> + +<p>All along he had been jealous of Glen; now the cause was removed. +Sometimes he gave a thought to Joe Calder, but he felt no regret for +what he had done; the man had brought it on himself.</p> + +<p>"If I hadn't shot him he'd have done for me," said Jim to himself.</p> + +<p>The show arrived safely in Melbourne, and opened in a large tent on the +St. Kilda Road. Crowds flocked to it, and before the first week was over +Glen knew they were in for an even better season than in Sydney. They +started business the Saturday before the Caulfield Cup. The tent was +packed every night, and sometimes twice a day.</p> + +<p>Ivor Hadwin arrived at Caulfield with his horses, Barellan, Flash, and a +couple of others.</p> + +<p>Betting on the two Cups was brisk, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> Barellan was well backed by the +public at a hundred to eight.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw had been laid a fair sum to nothing by the drawer of Flash in +the Caulfield Cup Sweep.</p> + +<p>The first Hundred Thousand Pound Sweep on the Melbourne Cup was to be +drawn in Sydney on Monday night.</p> + +<p>When Glen Leigh was informed he laughed, and said, "I don't set much +account on it. A fellow can't expect to get anything with one ticket in +a hundred thousand."</p> + +<p>There was a tremendous race for the Caulfield Cup, and Flash ran third, +being beaten by Roland and Mackay.</p> + +<p>Flash ran a remarkably fast race. Ivor Hadwin hardly thought him good +enough to win and he died away a furlong from the post. Knowing what +Barellan could do with Flash on the track, the trainer told Nicholl he +thought the Melbourne Cup was pretty nearly as good as won.</p> + +<p>The result of the drawing for the Hundred Thousand Pound Sweep on the +Melbourne Cup was made public on the Wednesday.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> Glen Leigh received a +wire from Bill Bigs which fairly astonished him.</p> + +<p>"You have drawn Barellan. Good luck, Bill."</p> + +<p>This was astounding news indeed. He had only one ticket in the sweep, +number 33444, and it had drawn Barellan, third favourite for the great +race. Was there ever such a stroke of luck! Glen could hardly believe in +his good fortune. Barellan was Bellshaw's horse which made it more +remarkable still. All his friends connected with the show crowded round +congratulating him. He was regarded as a kind of hero. The first prize +was close upon twenty-five thousand pounds, and there were numerous +other large and small sums to be divided. He was bound to get one of the +first three big prizes with such a horse as Barellan running for him, so +said everybody who knew him.</p> + +<p>Ivor Hadwin heard the news with mixed feelings; he was glad Leigh had +drawn the horse, but wondered what would happen if he declined to give +Craig Bellshaw a cut out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> of the sweep money. It was impossible to keep +the fact that Leigh had drawn Barellan a secret, nor had he any wish it +should be so.</p> + +<p>"I've drawn the horse; where's the harm in people knowing it?" said +Glen.</p> + +<p>Bill Bigs arrived in Melbourne, and consulted with Glen as to what was +best to be done.</p> + +<p>Bill advised him to lay some of it against Barellan. He could stand to +win a large sum to nothing, and if the horse lost he would also be a +winner. Glen, however, was adamant on this point. He declared he would +not lay off a penny; he'd stand the thing right out.</p> + +<p>"It's only cost me a pound," he said. "That's not much, and I'd sooner +go the whole hog and win the lot, if Barellan wins. If he loses I shall +not grumble."</p> + +<p>"Please yourself," said Bill. "From all I hear you stand a good chance +of pulling it off at the first time of asking. It's an extraordinary +piece of luck, that's what it is. I know fellows who have been going in +for sweeps for years and have never drawn a horse. I've been doing it +for a dozen years, and all I ever got was a non-starter."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You shall have a couple of hundred if Barellan wins," said Glen. "So +shall Jim, and I'll see Hadwin and Nicholl have a trifle."</p> + +<p>"You're distributing the cash before you've won," laughed Bill.</p> + +<p>"Half the fun of things is to anticipate, and plan out what you'll do +with the money," Glen laughed back.</p> + +<p>"So it is. I've drawn some nice little pictures myself, but they've +always been rubbed out, not so much as a daub remaining," said Bill.</p> + +<p>When Glen met Hadwin, the trainer asked, "I suppose you've not heard +from Bellshaw?"</p> + +<p>"No. What do I want to hear from him for?" replied Glen.</p> + +<p>Hadwin smiled.</p> + +<p>"You've not had much experience of sweeps. Owners generally expect a +good slice out of them," he said.</p> + +<p>"If Bellshaw expects to get me to lay him a big slice he's mistaken. I +shan't lay him a penny," replied Glen determinedly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p> + +<p>"For goodness' sake don't say that," expostulated Hadwin in genuine +alarm.</p> + +<p>"Why not? I mean it."</p> + +<p>"It will ruin me, Leigh, ruin me. I've backed Barellan for all I'm +worth, or nearly so," said the trainer.</p> + +<p>"Well, my drawing him in the sweep won't stop him winning."</p> + +<p>"No, I don't mean that. I think he will win, but if you don't lay +Bellshaw a fair sum, there's no telling what he'll do."</p> + +<p>"What can he do?" asked Glen, surprised.</p> + +<p>"Scratch him," said Hadwin in a low tremulous voice.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<h3>LAME</h3> + + +<p>Craig Bellshaw soon heard who was the drawer of Barellan in the great +Melbourne Cup Sweep. Glen Leigh held the ticket. He smiled wickedly. He +had found out that Glen had been a welcome visitor at Mrs. Prevost's. So +this was the man who had supplanted him. He wished him joy of his +bargain; he'd find it pretty expensive. No doubt it was Leigh who called +when he, Bellshaw, was ordered out of the house. If he had only known he +would have enlightened him there and then; he intended doing so at the +first favourable opportunity. He'd make it particularly hot and sultry +for Mrs. Prevost, put a spoke in her wheel that even Glen Leigh would +not care to try and pull out. A keeper of the fence, a common showman, a +rider of buckjumpers, to be ousted by such a man—it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> made Craig +Bellshaw writhe. He did not call at Sea View before he left for +Melbourne; there was time enough. He'd put in an appearance when he had +fairly choked Leigh off, made him sick of the whole business. He hated +him, he hated Mrs. Prevost for throwing him over, and he vowed vengeance +against them. Leigh had thwarted him in many ways when he had been on +the fence. Bellshaw recalled how on one occasion he had given him the +lie direct at a meeting held at Boonara, and had proved his statement up +to the hilt. This had lessened the owner of Mintaro's prestige +considerably, and he had not forgiven it.</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh had drawn Barellan. Bellshaw chuckled, a curious gurgling +sound, more like the growling of a dog. This decided him. He had +returned to Sydney after the Caulfield Cup; he didn't care for +Melbourne. He took train back again as soon as he heard who had drawn +Barellan in the sweep.</p> + +<p>He always stayed at Scott's. He walked there from Spencer Street +Station, along Collins Street.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hallo, Bellshaw, back again?"</p> + +<p>It was Nick Gerard who, for a wonder, was in that part of the town.</p> + +<p>"You, Nick. What's the news?"</p> + +<p>"I expect you know it all; you're never much behind the times where your +interests are concerned. By Gad, perhaps you don't know; it only +happened this morning. When did you arrive?"</p> + +<p>"I've just come in by the express. What's up?"</p> + +<p>"Your horse, Barellan."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"He went lame on the track at Flemington this morning, limped away +badly, and it's the week before the race. He'll not have much time to +pull round. I'm sorry for you. It's deuced bad luck, but you can stand +it. I'm more sorry for that chap, Glen Leigh, who drew him in the sweep. +It's rough on him. I like him; he's the best roughrider I ever saw. I'm +open to bet there isn't a bucker in Australia can get rid of him in a +quarter of an hour. I told him I'd bet a level thousand,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> two thousand +if anybody wanted it, and give him half if he won," said Nick.</p> + +<p>"My horse lame!" exclaimed Bellshaw, ignoring the latter part of Nick's +remarks.</p> + +<p>"Dead lame, from all accounts. I didn't see him, but I met Luke Nicholl +in Bourke Street, and he told me. He was on his back, so he ought to +know," said the bookmaker.</p> + +<p>"Damn him! He'd no right to say anything about it, especially to a +bookmaker," cried Bellshaw angrily.</p> + +<p>"And pray why not? What have I done? The fact will be in all the evening +papers. Most men I met at the Club were talking about it."</p> + +<p>"Were they? It's a den of thieves," almost shouted Bellshaw, in his +anger.</p> + +<p>"You're talking rot," said Nick, who knew his man. He also had a fairly +thick skin, and such remarks failed to penetrate it. "Have you been +playing 'solo' all the way from Sydney and losing, or what's ruffled +you?"</p> + +<p>"I never play 'solo' or hazards," sneered Bellshaw.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, I do, and I'm considered a fairly good hand at the former. As to +hazards, I'll not say much about that. I'm out on the green cloth, out a +biggish sum, but I can't leave off. It's in my blood. I must throw the +dice sometimes," said Nick.</p> + +<p>"More fool you. Where are you going?"</p> + +<p>"To the Federal."</p> + +<p>Bellshaw smiled grimly.</p> + +<p>"What have you got there? Is she nice? bewitching? or just an ordinary +filly?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"It's a man, a dashed clever fellow, but he's one failing, and it's got +fairly hold of him since he's been in Melbourne this time. I've known +him come here and never touch a drop the whole blessed time, but he's +been knocked out this trip. I'd like to find out the beggar who led him +on. I'd give him a piece of my mind," said Nick hotly.</p> + +<p>"Haven't you enough to do without wasting your time over a boozer?"</p> + +<p>"He's always been a friend of mine; he's done all his expenses in, and +hasn't a bean. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> mean to see him through, if he'll promise to keep +straight until the meeting's over."</p> + +<p>"And do you suppose he will?" sneered Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"Yes, if he gives me his word," replied Nick.</p> + +<p>"You're blessed with an uncommon amount of faith," said Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"And you've got none, not even in yourself. If you'd any pluck you'd not +squeal because Barellan's gone lame. He may pull round. Hadwin's a +clever man with dicky horses."</p> + +<p>"He's an ass or he'd not have galloped the horse to a standstill. I told +him he was giving him too much work."</p> + +<p>"I'm more sorry for him than you," said the bookmaker.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw laughed cynically, ignored the remark and asked, "Who's your +sick friend at the Federal?"</p> + +<p>"Jerry Makeshift, of 'The Sketch,' one of the best, the very best, a +jewel with only one flaw in it."</p> + +<p>"A gem of the first water, with whiskey in it," jeered Bellshaw.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And supposing he is? That's better than being a grinding, snarling, +miserable money-grubber," retorted Nick.</p> + +<p>"Who's in a bad temper now?" asked Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"You're enough to rile a parson," said Nick.</p> + +<p>"I never tried. I don't know much about 'em. I haven't got a chaplain at +Mintaro."</p> + +<p>"By all accounts you ought to have."</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>"To marry you," said Nick laughing.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw swore and left him. Nick looked after him.</p> + +<p>"He's a rotter if ever there was one, but he's been straight with me so +far, and he'd better continue to walk the line. The first time he steps +off it I'll push him right down," he thought, then went into the +Federal.</p> + +<p>"Is Mr. Makeshift in?" he asked the young lady presiding over the entry +book in the desk, on the right hand side near the door.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's you, Mr. Gerard. Yes, he's in. He's been asking for you," and +she told him where to find him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p> + +<p>Nick ascended the stairs, knocked at the door.</p> + +<p>"Come in," said a thick voice.</p> + +<p>Nick entered and found Jerry struggling with a sketch.</p> + +<p>"I don't feel a bit humorous," said Jerry.</p> + +<p>"You're a pretty specimen," began Nick.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Old Nick, if you've come here to upbraid me I don't want to +see you. What I want is ten pounds to see me through."</p> + +<p>Nick laughed.</p> + +<p>"I'll let you have it if you promise to keep all right."</p> + +<p>"Snakes alive. You don't suppose I want to be sacked, do you?" exclaimed +Jerry.</p> + +<p>"I'd be sorry if you were, so would thousands of people. We'd all miss +you, Jerry. 'The Sketch' wouldn't be the same paper," answered Nick.</p> + +<p>"That's awfully good of you," said the repentant Jerry. "It means a lot +to me. I'll not go back on you, Nick, I promise you, and you shall have +some good stuff to amuse you next week."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's right, old boy. Buck up. Here's the cash. Have you heard the +latest?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't been out for days."</p> + +<p>"Barellan's lame; Nicholl told me this morning. I've just met Bellshaw. +He's in a towering rage, cursing everybody, and everything. He can +handle some language when he likes. He's a heavyweight at it," said +Nick.</p> + +<p>"Bellshaw's a beast," replied Jerry. "I'm not sorry for him, but I am +for Leigh and Hadwin."</p> + +<p>"So am I, and I told him so," said Nick.</p> + +<p>"What'll happen?" asked Jerry.</p> + +<p>"I suppose he'll scratch him if there's no chance of getting him to the +post."</p> + +<p>"Lame horses have gone to the post and won a Melbourne Cup," said Jerry.</p> + +<p>"I'd sooner have one with four legs sound."</p> + +<p>"I say, Nick?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"What do you fancy?"</p> + +<p>"If Barellan gets right I think he'll win."</p> + +<p>"And if not?"</p> + +<p>"Roland."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The Caulfield Cup winner?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. He's a good horse—better than folks imagine."</p> + +<p>"But his penalty?"</p> + +<p>"He's a weight carrier. His trainer says he'd a stone in hand at +Caulfield."</p> + +<p>"That settles it," said Jerry.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<h3>SWEEP MONEY</h3> + + +<p>After the Caulfield Cup, Hadwin took the horses to Flemington, where +they were boxed at the top of the hill, at the Racecourse Hotel, where +many good horses have had their quarters.</p> + +<p>Thither Bellshaw went, when he had been to Scott's, and cleansed himself +from the grime that accumulated coming from Albury to Melbourne. He was +not popular at the hotel. His generosity was of the miserly kind, and +everybody knew it. Still he was the owner of Barellan, the sensational +horse of the hour, and people wondered if it would be a case of another +Assassin, who was reported lame, and won easily.</p> + +<p>The head waiter said, "It's just up to Bellshaw to plant a lame 'un on +us, and then for the horse to come up smiling and win."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></p> + +<p>When Bellshaw arrived at the Racecourse Hotel he at once saw Hadwin, and +there was a stormy scene.</p> + +<p>"I told you he'd break down if you gave him such strong work," said +Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"He hasn't broken down," retorted the trainer.</p> + +<p>"Gerard told me he's dead lame."</p> + +<p>"That's different to breaking down. He's not dead lame."</p> + +<p>"Then what's the matter with him?"</p> + +<p>"Limped when he pulled up, that's all."</p> + +<p>"Isn't that enough the week before the race?" growled Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"It would be under certain circumstances, but it's not serious."</p> + +<p>"You think he'll be fit to run?"</p> + +<p>The trainer laughed.</p> + +<p>"Of course he will. Who put that silly idea into your head?"</p> + +<p>"Let's look at him."</p> + +<p>They walked down the yard to Barellan's box.</p> + +<p>"Bring him out," said Bellshaw.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span></p> + +<p>Hadwin called the head lad and the horse was led out. He limped +slightly. His near fore-leg was swollen.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't look hopeless," said Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"It isn't. He'll be all right in a couple of days, and he's as fit as he +can be. The rest will not do him any harm."</p> + +<p>"I haven't seen Leigh yet," said Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"You'll have no difficulty in finding him."</p> + +<p>"He'll have to come down handsomely over the sweep money."</p> + +<p>"I don't think he will. I shouldn't be surprised if he declines to lay +you at all."</p> + +<p>"He'll do it. If he doesn't I'll scratch Barellan."</p> + +<p>"You dare not. There would be a terrible outcry against you."</p> + +<p>"What do I care? He's my horse; I can do as I like with him."</p> + +<p>"If you scratch him you'll throw the Cup away."</p> + +<p>"You're confident. What makes you so sanguine?"</p> + +<p>"I know what he can do, and after Flash's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> running in the Caulfield Cup +it is a good thing," returned the trainer.</p> + +<p>"Don't say anything about the lameness being slight," said Bellshaw. +"You're sure to have someone rooting round for information."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Hadwin, who intended doing as he thought fit.</p> + +<p>At night Bellshaw went to the Show and saw Glen Leigh ride The Savage. +He admired his skill; he could not help it.</p> + +<p>After the performance he went round to see Glen Leigh and had a cool +reception.</p> + +<p>"I've come about the Sweep," he said. "You've drawn my horse."</p> + +<p>"He's lame," answered Glen. "Just my luck. Will he run?"</p> + +<p>"It all depends."</p> + +<p>"Depends whether he's got over it by Tuesday?" said Glen.</p> + +<p>"It depends on you."</p> + +<p>"What have I got to do with it?"</p> + +<p>"A good deal. You've drawn Barellan in the Sweep, and I expect a cut out +of it."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do you, and how much do you expect?"</p> + +<p>"Half of what you draw. That's fair."</p> + +<p>Glen laughed as he said, "You don't want much. You'd better have the +lot."</p> + +<p>"It's a fair proposition," said Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"I drew Barellan and I shall stick to anything I get out of it," Glen +replied.</p> + +<p>"You mean you will give me nothing out of the Sweep?"</p> + +<p>"Not a farthing," snapped Glen.</p> + +<p>"Then do you know what I shall do?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"I shall scratch him."</p> + +<p>"A nice sportsmanlike proceeding that would be," said Glen.</p> + +<p>"I don't run my horse for your benefit, or the benefit of the public."</p> + +<p>"So I always understood," answered Glen.</p> + +<p>"Consider it over. If you do not make me a fair offer by Saturday I'll +strike him out on Monday."</p> + +<p>"I don't think you will," said Glen, in a mildly irritating way.</p> + +<p>"But I shall."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Again I repeat I don't think you will."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Because I can advance some weighty reasons against your doing so."</p> + +<p>"To which I shall not listen," said Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"To which I am certain you will listen, and, having heard them, will +fall in with my views."</p> + +<p>Bellshaw was fast losing his temper. He had no idea what Leigh was +driving at.</p> + +<p>"I tell you again if you don't come down handsomely with the sweep money +I'll strike him out."</p> + +<p>"And I say you will not," retorted Glen.</p> + +<p>Gerard came round to see Glen Leigh. Jerry Makeshift, and Tom Roslyn +were with him.</p> + +<p>"How's your horse?" Tom asked Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"Lame," snapped the owner of Barellan, who objected to being questioned +by the representative of "Racing Life" or any other journalist.</p> + +<p>"I'm quite aware of that, but as I presume you have seen him since your +arrival, I thought perhaps you could give me some later information to +wire to Sydney. There will be considerable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> excitement over the mishap," +said Tom in his most placid manner, at the same time wishing Bellshaw at +the uttermost part of the earth.</p> + +<p>"You know as much as I do," returned Bellshaw. "If he doesn't pull round +by Monday he'll be struck out."</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh looked at him with contempt. He knew Bellshaw would not be so +anxious about the sweep money if Barellan were dead lame, a hopeless +case.</p> + +<p>"That won't be the reason he's struck out," said Glen and they all +looked at him questioningly.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw turned on him in a rage.</p> + +<p>"It's a lie. It <i>will</i> be because he's lame if he's struck out."</p> + +<p>Glen laughed.</p> + +<p>"You told me a few minutes ago you'd strike Barellan out if I did not +give you a cut out of the sweep," he said.</p> + +<p>Tom Roslyn smiled knowingly at Jerry as much as to say, "That's more +like it."</p> + +<p>"I say, Bellshaw, you'd never do a dirty thing like that?" said Nick.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I've told you my horse is lame; I also told Leigh I expected a cut out +of the sweep, and he said he wouldn't lay me anything. Do you think +that's fair?" Bellshaw asked.</p> + +<p>"He's drawn the horse; he can do as he likes. Personally I don't think +an owner has any right to demand sweep money," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"That's your opinion, is it? I expect you'd talk differently if you +owned Barellan," sneered Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"If a lucky drawer of the sweep money offered me a portion I'd take it, +but I'd never demand it," replied Tom.</p> + +<p>"I mean to get some of it anyhow," declared Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"Then if Barellan will start on those conditions," said Tom, "he can't +be so bad. I think I'll risk it and wire to that effect. It will relieve +his backers."</p> + +<p>"Wire if you like, but don't say I gave you the information."</p> + +<p>"Not willingly, but putting one thing with another I think I am +justified in wiring that your horse's lameness is not so serious as at +first supposed," answered Tom.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then you'll be misleading the public, as you have done many a time."</p> + +<p>"I never mislead the public, knowingly," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"Through ignorance of facts," sneered Bellshaw. "Put it that way."</p> + +<p>"You're not making a bed of roses for yourself by going on in this way," +said Jerry. "You'll smart for it if you don't mind."</p> + +<p>"You've been on the spree ever since you've been here," remarked +Bellshaw. "I wonder what your boss would say if he knew."</p> + +<p>"You can tell him if you wish. I fancy you'd get your change," retorted +Jerry.</p> + +<p>Turning to Leigh, Bellshaw said, "I've had enough of this talk. You let +me know by Saturday what you are going to do, or I'll act as I said I +would."</p> + +<p>He left them and walked out of the office.</p> + +<p>"The atmosphere's a bit purer now he's gone," said Tom. "Isn't he a +bounder?"</p> + +<p>"He is. I've a good mind to rub it into him next week. He's a good +figure to caricature," answered Jerry.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Let him alone. Don't waste your talent on him," said Nick.</p> + +<p>"I'd better turn my attention to you, and call it 'The Philanthropist'," +suggested Jerry smiling.</p> + +<p>Nick laughed. He knew to what Jerry alluded.</p> + +<p>"I've issued a challenge," he said, "or rather I am about to do so; you +can wire it to the 'Life' if you wish to."</p> + +<p>"What is it, boxing?"</p> + +<p>"No, something more exciting. I'll wager two thousand pounds no one can +produce a horse that will throw Glen Leigh in a quarter of an hour. +There are conditions of course; it must be a throw, no lying down, and +rolling over him, and so on."</p> + +<p>"By Jove, that's plucky," said Tom. "He thinks a lot of your riding, +Leigh."</p> + +<p>"I do. He's the best roughrider in Australia, and that's saying a lot," +affirmed Nick.</p> + +<p>"We'll draw up the conditions," said Tom, "and I'll forward them."</p> + +<p>"Give 'em a month from date in which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> to find the animals," replied +Nick. "We must limit it to six horses, one to be ridden each night. It +will pack the place, bring grist to the mill, and it must come off in +Sydney. I mean to give Leigh half the stake if he wins, as I feel sure +he will."</p> + +<p>"What do you say, Leigh?" asked Tom.</p> + +<p>"I'll accept with pleasure; I'll ride anything they like to bring in," +answered Glen.</p> + +<p>"Good man," said Tom. "There'll be some sport. You'll have your work cut +out."</p> + +<p>Glen smiled confidently.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + +<h3>BEATEN</h3> + + +<p>It was Saturday night, and Glen Leigh had sent no word to Bellshaw about +the sweep money.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw waited impatiently in his private room at the hotel, fretting +and fuming.</p> + +<p>"If he thinks I don't mean what I said he's mistaken," he muttered. +"I'll scratch him right enough. He can't have a very big chance. He +limped a bit this morning. He'll have to run in bandages if he starts; +that doesn't look very well for a Cup horse. I'm not going to give him +all the spoil—not me."</p> + +<p>It was ten o'clock and still no word from Glen Leigh. Bellshaw thought +he would come round after the show, but he did not.</p> + +<p>"I'll wait until Sunday night," thought Bellshaw. "I can go round on +Monday morning and scratch him."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span></p> + +<p>Ivor Hadwin went to the show on Saturday night and saw Glen Leigh. He +was very anxious about what Bellshaw would do over Barellan, and tried +his utmost to persuade Glen to see him about it.</p> + +<p>"He'll not scratch him," said Glen. "He dare not."</p> + +<p>"You don't know him. He'd do it just to spite you."</p> + +<p>"Then he's a fool to throw away a chance of winning the Melbourne Cup +out of sheer spite."</p> + +<p>"Will you call on him to-morrow morning?" asked the trainer.</p> + +<p>"What's the good? There'll only be a scene," replied Glen.</p> + +<p>"Think of me, Leigh, the anxiety I've had over the horse for weeks, all +the trouble, and now the job of getting him to the post after his +lameness. It's heartbreaking," said Hadwin.</p> + +<p>Glen relented. For the trainer's sake he would see Bellshaw and try and +persuade him not to scratch Barellan, but he was firmly resolved not to +yield any sweep money.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Very well, I'll see him. I think I have a persuasive way, and I'll try +it on him," answered Glen.</p> + +<p>The trainer brightened visibly.</p> + +<p>"You're a good 'un. I'll not forget it," he said.</p> + +<p>About eleven o'clock on Sunday morning Glen Leigh was announced.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw smiled when he heard the name of his visitor.</p> + +<p>"Show him up," he said, and added to himself, "I thought he'd never be +such an ass as to throw a chance away."</p> + +<p>Glen entered the room. The only greeting he gave was a nod. He took a +chair without being asked, and threw his hat on the table, then leaned +back and looked at Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"So you've come to your senses," said Bellshaw. "It's lucky for you the +office was closed on Saturday night, or my orders to scratch Barellan +would have gone in. There's the letter," and he threw it across the +table to him.</p> + +<p>Much to Bellshaw's surprise, which quickly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> changed to anger, Glen Leigh +tore it up and let the pieces flutter on the table.</p> + +<p>"Damn your impertinence. What do you mean by that?" roared Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>A tap at the door. A waiter put in his head.</p> + +<p>"Did you call, sir?"</p> + +<p>"No—get out," foamed the angry man.</p> + +<p>Glen smiled exasperatingly.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by it?" asked Bellshaw again.</p> + +<p>"It's a silly useless letter, because you will not scratch Barellan," +answered Glen.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw simmered down. Leigh had come to make terms; they must be +liberal.</p> + +<p>"Useless because you are going to make a proposal," said Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"I have a proposal to make?"</p> + +<p>"How much will you give me out of the sweep?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," was the unexpected answer.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw flared up again, swore roundly, talked fast and furiously, all +to no purpose. Leigh sat immovable, lit a cigar and waited until he was +exhausted.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Would you like to hear my proposition?" asked Glen calmly.</p> + +<p>"Not if it doesn't refer to sweep money."</p> + +<p>"You'd better, for your own sake. It's rather important to you," said +Glen.</p> + +<p>"Nothing you have to say, outside the matter at issue, can interest me," +returned Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>Glen smiled at him. It was the most irritating thing he could do.</p> + +<p>"I shall sit here until you listen to what I have to say," he said.</p> + +<p>His manner was determined. He looked stubborn, and was more than a match +for Craig Bellshaw, as far as strength went. He got up and locked the +door, putting the key in his pocket.</p> + +<p>"What I have to say you would not like anyone to hear. Besides I don't +want you to bolt out of the room."</p> + +<p>"Get along with it then," growled Bellshaw, "but I assure you beforehand +you are wasting your time."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, I am not. You'll say so when I've<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> done. You'll consider it +rather a clever move on my part and that the time was very well +occupied. It's about a woman," blurted out Glen suddenly.</p> + +<p>Craig Bellshaw felt as though an electric current had passed through +him. The remark was so unexpected, meant so many things, and he was +utterly in the dark. He stared at Glen, who still smiled as he said, "I +thought you'd be surprised. Do you know what became of the young woman +you took away from Mintaro and left in the open to die?"</p> + +<p>"You're raving. There never was a young woman at Mintaro," said Bellshaw +hoarsely.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, there was. You drove her away in your buggy, emptied her out, +and left her insensible while you drove away. You told me about it the +night you walked in your sleep; at least all you knew. You acted well, +very well indeed. You illustrated in a remarkably clear way how you +attempted to throttle her. You also showed me how you were dragging her +to some water hole, but thought better of it, and left her to die of +hunger. I heard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> you speak to your horses so knew you must have taken +her there in a buggy. It's a bad plan to walk in your sleep when you've +a murder on your conscience," said Glen.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw glared at him like a caged tiger.</p> + +<p>"Murder," he hissed. "Be careful what you say."</p> + +<p>Glen took no notice of his remark.</p> + +<p>"Do you know what became of the woman?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"There was no woman."</p> + +<p>"Don't deny facts. It's a waste of breath. Doesn't Backham know there +was a woman at Mintaro? Don't all your hands know?"</p> + +<p>Bellshaw was silent. Glen was rubbing it in strong.</p> + +<p>"There's awful evidence against you to prove she was at your place. +We'll take that for granted; we'll also take it for granted you left her +in the wilderness to die—you brute," said Glen, who could hardly +restrain his feelings.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw writhed, but did not speak. He waited to hear more.</p> + +<p>"Do you know what became of the woman?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I tell you there was no woman."</p> + +<p>"There's ample proof that you lie," answered Glen, "so I'll pass that. I +found her in my hut when I rode back from the fence."</p> + +<p>He gave Bellshaw a graphic account of what happened and how Jim Benny +came to assist him.</p> + +<p>Then he looked hard at Bellshaw as he placed his hands on the table and +stood up, leaning over until his face was within a few inches of the +squatter's.</p> + +<p>"She died in my hut," said Glen. "You are her murderer; you can't get +away from that."</p> + +<p>Bellshaw shivered. He believed what Glen Leigh said. It was not true, +but there was every justification for making the statement to punish +him.</p> + +<p>"She confessed how she came there and everything you had done to her +before she died," went on Leigh. "Jim Benny knows it; Bill Bigs knows +it; they were there. The evidence is strong enough, if not to hang you, +to send you to penal servitude for life."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p> + +<p>Bellshaw tried to laugh, but was thoroughly frightened. He had often +wondered what had become of the woman. The story sounded probable. She +might have wandered as far as Leigh's hut. During the few minutes' +respite Bellshaw thought of a way to retaliate.</p> + +<p>"You shot Joe Calder," he said.</p> + +<p>Glen being innocent, laughed. Bellshaw must have been dull if he did not +see his shot had not gone home.</p> + +<p>"I did not. I shouldn't wonder if you had a hand in it," retorted Glen.</p> + +<p>"He was a friend of mine."</p> + +<p>"You'd as soon leave a shot in a friend as an enemy if he was in your +way," said Glen.</p> + +<p>"Why have you told me this silly story?"</p> + +<p>"In the first place because I want to bring home to you that if Jim +Benny, Bill Bigs and myself bring a charge against you of causing the +death of this woman, you'll be in the hands of the police instead of +witnessing the Melbourne Cup. In the second place if you scratch +Barellan you will have no mercy shown you. We shall act at once," +replied Glen.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p> + +<p>Bellshaw saw the drift of it all. He was cornered. It was a clever move. +He would have to run the horse. The evidence of three men who saw the +woman die, and heard her charge against him, would be serious—too +serious for him to face in public. Even if he escaped punishment he +would be branded with infamy for life.</p> + +<p>"You'll not scratch Barellan?" said Glen.</p> + +<p>"I shall if I get no sweep money from you."</p> + +<p>"I say you will not scratch the horse," Glen repeated.</p> + +<p>"Supposing I do."</p> + +<p>"Then you will be taken into custody at once on the charge I mentioned."</p> + +<p>"And if I run him?"</p> + +<p>"You shall be free to do what you will. Your conscience will punish you; +it has done already. I saw that at Mintaro. You were afraid—a coward," +said Glen.</p> + +<p>"You will stand me a thousand out of the sweep?"</p> + +<p>"Not a farthing."</p> + +<p>Bellshaw would like to have shot him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What guarantee have I that you will be silent?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I give you my word," returned Glen.</p> + +<p>"That is nothing to me."</p> + +<p>"But it is to me, and you will have to accept it."</p> + +<p>"I will not."</p> + +<p>"You will run Barellan?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"I have another witness," said Glen at a venture.</p> + +<p>"Go on. I am amused," answered Bellshaw, fighting hard before he gave +in. He must save his face by making some show of resistance.</p> + +<p>"Lin Soo," said Glen.</p> + +<p>The effect of the mention of this name on Bellshaw was remarkable. He +gasped and seemed on the point of choking, sank back in the chair, his +hands hanging down.</p> + +<p>Leigh opened the door and went downstairs for some brandy. This revived +Bellshaw and he looked round in a frightened way.</p> + +<p>"You will run Barellan?" asked Glen.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw murmured a faint "Yes." He was beaten.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> + +<h3>AT FLEMINGTON</h3> + + +<p>There was tremendous excitement in Melbourne on the eve of the Cup. The +Victoria Club was thronged, a stream of people constantly passing up and +down the stairs on to Bourke Street. On the pavement the crowd was +dense, and it was difficult to push along. Many of the tobacconists' +shops were tenanted by bookmakers and heavy wagers were recorded in +them. Nick Gerard was busy at the Club; he had a heavy book on the race, +and had laid the favourite, Roland, the winner of the Caulfield Cup, +heavily. Barellan was one of his best horses; he had not laid much +against him. Ivor Hadwin gave him a glowing account of his candidate. On +Monday morning Glen relieved the trainer's mind by telling him he need +have no doubt about Bellshaw running the horse.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then you must have laid him a lump out of the sweep," said the trainer.</p> + +<p>"Not a penny," answered Leigh.</p> + +<p>"Then how did you work it?" asked the trainer amazed.</p> + +<p>"I managed it after a tussle, but I can't tell you how," replied Glen.</p> + +<p>Wagering was fast and furious at the Club. Barellan's lameness +disappeared as if by magic and there were many people who thought the +whole thing a fake, and of course blamed Bellshaw. He was unpopular, and +made no secret that he ran his horses as he liked, without consideration +for anyone. When he came into the Club he was not greeted heartily as a +popular owner would have been. Hardly anyone spoke to him until one or +two bookmakers asked him if he wished to back his horse.</p> + +<p>Nick Gerard crossed over the room.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you've persuaded Leigh to give you some of the sweep money?" +he said.</p> + +<p>"Not a fraction. It's a mean, dirty action on his part, but as the horse +is so well backed I shall run him," replied Bellshaw.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's something out of the common for you to consider backers," said +Nick. "Have you got all your money on?"</p> + +<p>"All I want. If he hadn't gone lame I'd have had more on; it's not worth +the risk now."</p> + +<p>The street was crowded until midnight, when the bulk of the people +wended their way homewards.</p> + +<p>Jerry Makeshift and Tom Roslyn walked down Collins Street together, +discussing the chances of the probable runners in the Cup.</p> + +<p>"What have you sent on as your final?" asked Jerry.</p> + +<p>"Barellan and Roland," answered Tom.</p> + +<p>"Why Barellan?"</p> + +<p>"I rather fancy him. I saw him this morning. Hadwin told me the horse +was all right again, and that the lameness disappeared as suddenly as it +came."</p> + +<p>"Still it can't have improved his chance for the Cup," said Jerry. "I +wonder how Leigh induced him to run the horse. He says he hasn't laid +him anything out of the sweep."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad of it. There's too much fleecing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> goes on. When a man is lucky +enough to draw a horse it's hard lines he should be robbed out of a lot +of it."</p> + +<p>"It's been the practice for so long, owners appear to regard it as a +right," said Jerry.</p> + +<p>"It's just as well they should find out it is not," replied Tom.</p> + +<p>The two friends parted and Jerry went on to the Federal.</p> + +<p>Next morning it was beautifully fine, and from an early hour huge crowds +wended their way to Flemington. Towards noon Spencer Street Station was +crammed. All the specials were full.</p> + +<p>There is no finer racing picture in the world than Flemington on Cup +Day. Even Royal Ascot pales before it in many respects. It is the luxury +of racing in comfort that makes Flemington, and most Australian courses, +attractive. There is room for everybody; there is no jostling or +overcrowding, and the cost is moderate. Everything is done to enhance +the pleasure of the public, who are not treated with the scant courtesy +meted out to them grudgingly in England.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p> + +<p>The lawn and stand were a grand sight before racing commenced. The hill +at the back, overlooking the stand, was a mass of people, yet there was +ample room to move about. The beds on the lawn were gay with +brilliant-hued flowers. The grass was splendidly green; there was no +dust or dirt, no fear of new and wondrously devised ladies' costumes +being damaged in an hour. Despite the heat, it was one of November's +hottest days, people looked cool. There was plenty of shade. Cosy tables +for luncheon parties were laid beneath arbours of vines, whose leaves +afforded a refreshing covering. Here scores of parties chatted and made +merry, talking over the prospects of the horses in the great race of the +year. Coaches, with fine teams, came driving in. There were no motor +cars, and the scene was far more picturesque without them. On the flat +the huge crowd assembled. It was evident there would be a record +attendance.</p> + +<p>The Governor and his Lady arrived and were greeted with rousing cheers +as they stepped from their carriage and walked across the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> lawn to the +reserved box on the grand stand.</p> + +<p>The bookmakers, located between the lawn and the paddock, were not +cooped up in an iron cage like animals in a zoological collection. +Wagering could be done in comfort. There was no fighting to get money, +no scrambling. Everything was decent and in order.</p> + +<p>Nick Gerard stood with his back to the rails, against the stewards' and +official enclosure and his clerks were seldom still. The leviathan had a +big book, and could afford to lay any horse asked for, but a casual +observer might have noticed he was in no particular hurry to put +Barellan's name down. He laid against Roland whenever he got a chance, +but the horse was so heavily backed he came down to five to one before +the first race was decided.</p> + +<p>A whole string of horses figured in the betting, and there were +thirty-one runners in the field, or would be if all started.</p> + +<p>Isaac, the winner of the Derby on the previous Saturday, had plenty of +friends. He was ridden by Nicholl in that race, and the jockey +considered he had an excellent chance.</p> + +<p>He had been asked to ride him in the Cup,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> but had to decline because he +was engaged for Barellan.</p> + +<p>Luke Nicholl was conscientious. He liked the trainer of Barellan, and +since he had known Glen Leigh he had been on very friendly terms with +him. Barellan's temporary lameness came as a blow to the jockey, as he +might have had the mount on any horse in the race he could do the weight +for.</p> + +<p>Ivor Hadwin, however, had somewhat relieved his mind when he told him +Barellan moved in his accustomed style, and he had but little fear about +his lasting out the race.</p> + +<p>"You'll ride him carefully," he said. "No need to tell you that. Nurse +him until you are well in the straight; then let him come along as fast +as you like. I got a clever man to bind his hoof. It's a bit brittle, +and he'll run in bandages, but take my word for it, whatever beats him +will win. I fear nothing, Luke."</p> + +<p>This was reassuring and Nicholl looked like not only riding the Derby +and Cup winners but also landing his first Melbourne Cup. For the +leading jockey he had had bad luck in the race, having been placed half +a dozen times.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> He could never quite get home. He hoped Barellan would +accomplish that for him.</p> + +<p>As he went into the paddock he encountered Glen Leigh.</p> + +<p>"I hope you'll win," said Glen. "It means a lot to me, as you know. If +Barellan gets home you shall have five hundred."</p> + +<p>Luke thanked him, and said he'd do his best, telling him what Hadwin +said.</p> + +<p>"That sounds all right," returned Glen smiling, "let's hope he's hit the +mark."</p> + +<p>"You'd better have a bit on my mount in this race," said the jockey. It +was the Railway Handicap, six furlongs, fifteen runners.</p> + +<p>"What are you on?" asked Glen.</p> + +<p>"Pioneer," replied Luke. "There he is. I must hurry up."</p> + +<p>Glen turned back into the ring, and walked to Gerard.</p> + +<p>"What price Pioneer?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Nick looked at him and smiled.</p> + +<p>"Eight to one," he answered.</p> + +<p>"Eight fivers," said Glen, handing him a note.</p> + +<p>There was a few minutes' slackness and Gerard said, "What makes you +fancy Pioneer?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nicholl's riding him. He told me to have a bit on."</p> + +<p>"His luck's in," said Nick, who sent one of his clerks to put fifty on +Luke's mount.</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh met Bill Bigs and induced him to back Pioneer, also Jim +Benny, and they went on the stand to see the race.</p> + +<p>Many people knew Glen Leigh as the daring rider in the Buckjumping Show; +and he was a tall, athletic, handsome man. Many bright eyes were +levelled at him as he moved about.</p> + +<p>"What's Pioneer's colours?" asked Bill.</p> + +<p>Glen looked at his race book.</p> + +<p>"White, black cap," he said.</p> + +<p>He had no sooner spoken than the horses were off, racing up the straight +at top speed. It was a regular Newmarket Handicap on a small scale.</p> + +<p>Soon after crossing the tan the white jacket came to the front.</p> + +<p>"That's Pioneer!" exclaimed Bill.</p> + +<p>"He's in front and he'll stop there," said a man behind him.</p> + +<p>"I hope he does."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span></p> + +<p>"So do I. He's a speedy horse, and good enough for a Newmarket."</p> + +<p>Pioneer came sailing along past the stands and turned out an easy winner +by three lengths, at which there was much jubilation among the three +friends.</p> + +<p>"I shall put my winnings on Barellan," said Bill.</p> + +<p>"So shall I," said Jim.</p> + +<p>"I'll keep mine in my pocket," said Glen.</p> + +<p>"You've got a big stake going. By Jove, it will be a go if you win first +prize in the sweep; you'll be a cut above us poor beggars then," Bill +remarked.</p> + +<p>"It won't make the slightest difference that way," replied Glen smiling.</p> + +<p>"I know that, old man. I was only chaffing," laughed Bill. "I suppose if +anyone accepts Gerard's challenge you'll ride, even if Barellan wins?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly. I promised him," Glen answered.</p> + +<p>"Let us go into the paddock, and have a look at some of the Cup horses," +said Jim, and they walked along the lawn in that direction.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXV</h2> + +<h3>HE LOOKED AT HIS TICKET</h3> + + +<p>"That was a good tip; we all backed it," said Glen as Nicholl came up to +them.</p> + +<p>"He won easily," said the jockey smiling.</p> + +<p>"Your luck's in," remarked Bill.</p> + +<p>"I hope it will continue in the Cup," answered the jockey.</p> + +<p>Barellan was being put to rights in the corner of the paddock and they +went to see him.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw was not there, so Hadwin had an opportunity of speaking to +them. He assured Glen the horse would win if he had a good run in the +race, which he was almost sure to have with such a jockey as Luke +Nicholl in the saddle.</p> + +<p>Barellan looked fresh and well. His coat shone like satin. He was +trained to the hour, but the suspicious-looking bandages, and one hoof +bound up with copper wire, caused<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> many people to pass him by in their +search for the winner.</p> + +<p>Luke Nicholl, wearing Bellshaw's sky blue jacket and red cap, was ready +to mount when the time came. He felt confident. Hadwin had made an +impression on him, inspired him with some of his enthusiasm. Nicholl was +well off, Hadwin was not; the victory of Barellan meant the difference +between debt and independence. The trainer was not a gambler. He seldom +had more than five or ten pounds on, but he could not resist backing +Barellan, at the long prices offered, when he was lame. He had three +thousand to ninety about the horse, and backed him to win another +thousand that morning. Glen had laid him five hundred out of the sweep +money.</p> + +<p>Perhaps Glen Leigh was one of the most anxious men on the course, but +there was no sign that he was unduly excited. He laughed and joked as +usual and appeared quite calm outwardly.</p> + +<p>The chance of winning a fortune of nearly twenty-five thousand pounds +for the investment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> of a sovereign does not come to many men in a +lifetime. This was what Glen stood to win, and he conjured up his future +prospects if it came off. He thought of Mrs. Prevost and Clara; the +former he knew loved him; at least he was very much mistaken if she did +not, and he knew he loved her. If Barellan won he would go to her and +ask her to be his wife, and she would not refuse. He cared nothing about +her connection with Bellshaw. He would never ask her about it. He knew +the man, and pitied any woman who got into his clutches. As he stood +looking at Barellan he thought what the horse's victory meant to him, +and naturally he became more anxious as the time of the race drew near. +He saw Bellshaw coming and would have avoided him had it been possible.</p> + +<p>The squatter scowled at him, then asked, "Have you changed your mind? +Will you give me a cent out of the sweep?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied Glen as he walked away.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw sent a curse after him, then turned to the jockey.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If you can't win it doesn't matter about riding him out for a place," +he said. "There's no sweep money attached to it."</p> + +<p>Nicholl made no reply.</p> + +<p>"Do you hear what I say?" snapped Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"I heard; I shall have to ride him out."</p> + +<p>"You'll do as I tell you."</p> + +<p>"I shall ride Barellan out," said Nicholl firmly.</p> + +<p>"Against my orders?"</p> + +<p>"If those are your orders, yes. I am not going to run any risks."</p> + +<p>"What risk would you run?"</p> + +<p>"I might be called up before the stewards to explain, and I'm not going +to risk that for you or anyone else."</p> + +<p>"You hear what he says," Bellshaw said to the trainer.</p> + +<p>"He'll have to ride him out. There's no help for it. Besides, there's +big money for the places," answered Hadwin.</p> + +<p>"I don't want place money if he can't win. I want to keep that fellow +Leigh from winning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> if Barellan can't come in first," said Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"I thought so," said Nicholl.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw did not stay to see his horse leave the paddock. He went back +into the ring. He was in a vile temper, which his trainer's confidence +in Barellan did not soothe. Leigh had got the better of him. He knew it +was no empty threat when Glen said he would be put on his trial for +manslaughter if evidence were given incriminating him. He hated Glen +Leigh. His animosity was so great he would have scratched Barellan had +he dared. He intended paying him out. The best way to wound him would be +through Mrs. Prevost. He cared nothing for her sufferings, even after +all she had been to him. He was a man without feelings.</p> + +<p>He was not quite sure whether Leigh would keep his promise if Barellan +won. There was Lin Soo. What did Leigh know about him? The paper found +under his bedroom door at Mintaro had warned him, and Leigh mentioned it +again in the hotel. He must see Lin Soo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> on his return to Sydney, but +first of all he would go to Mrs. Prevost's again and inform her he had +enlightened Glen Leigh as to her past life, would gloat over her +distress, make fun of her, then offer to be on friendly terms with her +again. He had no doubt she would accept.</p> + +<p>He stood alone in the ring listening to the calling of the odds. Roland +was a firm favourite. Isaac, Painter, Out Back, Adelaide, The Gong, +Rosehill, Canterbury, Crocker, Thane, The Rival, Jack, and Mackay, were +all well backed, some at long odds, and rank outsiders at a hundred to +one each.</p> + +<p>The name of Barellan was seldom called by the bookmakers. Bellshaw +wondered why? Had they laid his horse heavily before he met with his +accident?</p> + +<p>He went to Gerard and asked the price of his horse.</p> + +<p>"Full against him," replied Nick.</p> + +<p>"You mean you won't lay him," said Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"Take it as you like."</p> + +<p>"Do you expect him to run well?" asked Bellshaw.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I expect him to win," answered the bookmaker. "I hope he does for +Leigh's sake."</p> + +<p>Bellshaw made some remark about Leigh being a bad lot.</p> + +<p>"He's a straight goer. It's a pity there are not more like him," said +Nick.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it is. Even if he wins the sweep he'll soon lose it. Probably +you'll get most of it, or some of your fraternity," retorted Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"You don't know the man. If he wins he'll stick to it, take my word for +it," said Nick.</p> + +<p>Barellan's price was a hundred to eight, and no longer odds were +obtainable about him. This was not tempting enough for Bellshaw, so he +made no further investment.</p> + +<p>Jack was knocked out to a hundred to one for some reason or other. His +trainer did not understand it as he thought the horse had a fair outside +chance.</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh was missing. Bill and Jim could not find him.</p> + +<p>"He's best alone until after the race,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> said Bill. "He must feel a bit +queer about it; I should."</p> + +<p>"So should I," agreed Jim. "Fancy standing to win all those thousands +for a sovereign; it makes a fellow's mouth water."</p> + +<p>"He'll do something for you if he wins the first prize," said Bill.</p> + +<p>"He's not mentioned it."</p> + +<p>"No, it's not his way, but he will, depend upon it; I shouldn't wonder +if he gives you his share in the show."</p> + +<p>Jim thought of Clara and what he would do if such a stroke of luck came +his way. Glen Leigh had gone on to the top of the stand close to the +press-box, where he would have a good view of the race. He wished to be +alone. His feelings almost overcame him. He saw Jerry and Tom Roslyn in +front of the press-box, and was glad they had not noticed him.</p> + +<p>There was a dull roaring sound all over the course, the voices of +thousands of people talking before the race, mingled with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> shouts of +the bookmakers. A sea of faces met Glen's gaze as he looked across the +course. Far away, on the other side of the canal, people were camped on +the slopes, waiting for the big field to come out. At the back of him, +on the hill, there was a dense crowd reaching down to the top of the +stand; he turned round and looked at the surging mass. To his right, +below, was the ring, and paddock; he saw a mass of heads on Tattersalls' +stand, and just caught a glimpse of a colour or two in the paddock. On +the lawn people were still strolling about in groups. The race, most of +it, could be seen from the terrace and the slopes. Presently, when the +horses came round the bend for home there would be a rush to get on the +rails. Still further to the left was another stand, on which there was +plenty of room. Late lunchers were still under the vines, but were now +making a move towards the terrace and stands. A long streak of bright +green, the course, stretched out between the crowds. A solitary horseman +cantered down. It was the starter going to the post; then the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> clerk of +the course came along, on an old chaser, and went after him. Already +there were one or two in the stewards' stand. Near the weighing room +diminutive men were going about; they were the jockeys weighed out for +the race. It was an animated glittering scene; many-hued costumes, the +brightest of colours, the daintiest of designs, artistic creations, the +labour of clever women and clever men, and hats and sunshades almost too +dazzling to feast the eyes upon, as the glorious sun poured his rays +down from the cloudless sky. It was an ideal day. A faint breeze, tinged +with sea air from the bay far away, cooled hot cheeks, and blew +delicately through thin blouses and skirts. Men moved about in all sorts +of headgear; but there were no regulation top-hats, although in the +Governor's Box "a bit of Ascot" was seen. It was Glen Leigh's first +Melbourne Cup, and the sight at Flemington entranced him, threw a +glamour over him, and he looked at it all and fancied himself alone, +even in the vast crowd. And he had drawn Barellan in the big sweep. +Would the horse win? Would No. 33444 be the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> successful ticket? He had +it in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at it, thinking how +wonderful it was that if Barellan won he could cash it for nearly +twenty-five thousand pounds.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> + +<h3>BARELLAN FALLS BACK</h3> + + +<p>Glen's thoughts wandered. The heat and excitement made him drowsy. For a +few minutes he dozed, and as he did so his mind went back to the days +when he was a keeper of the fence, on the border line between New South +Wales and Queensland. Surrounded by thousands on Flemington course he +slumbered peacefully, as men will when overcome with some powerful +feeling, that acts like a drug, and for a few minutes there is oblivion.</p> + +<p>His thoughts wandered far away. He was back once more on the glittering +wire fence, with Ping, and Spotty, waiting there in the blazing heat for +his mate to meet him and compare notes. There had been no rain for +months; everything was parched, and dried up. He saw thousands of dead +rabbits, and sheep. The stench seemed to be in his nostrils. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> scene +changed. He was looking in at his hut and saw the woman on the bed. In a +few seconds he went through the struggle for a life again, the ride to +Boonara, the tussle for brandy with Bill Bigs, Jim's arrival, and +keeping watch, Spotty's attack; then the convalescence and the journey +to Sydney. His meeting with Mrs. Prevost, Bellshaw at Mintaro, the +search and capture of buckjumpers, Lin Soo, The Savage, the show, were +all jumbled up together when he came out of his temporary swoon with a +start, rubbed his eyes, and stared round him at the bustling scene, +hardly daring to believe he was not back in reality on the fence. He +gave a sigh of relief, and was wide awake again. He could not have been +asleep for more than five minutes, and he had gone through the +experiences of half a lifetime. It was strange. He had not quite shaken +it off when the horses came out of the paddock on to the track, and the +sight caused the past to vanish.</p> + +<p>All eyes were turned on them as they cantered down the course to the +starting post. There were thirty-one runners; it was a big field, and +half of them were considered to have chances.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span></p> + +<p>Jack, knocked out to a hundred to one, was first out, his jockey wearing +a green jacket, yellow belt and cap; then came half a dozen more in a +cluster. Isaac, the Derby winner, passed, going in great style. A +tremendous cheer greeted Roland, the favourite. His owner's black +jacket, white sleeves, and red cap were popular; the colours were always +out to win. Painter, Plume, and Out Back followed, then Glen saw the +sky-blue jacket and red cap, and his heart beat rapidly. Barellan went +slowly at first, then burst into a gallop, pulling hard, reaching for +his head, but Nicholl would not let him go. Glen watched him through his +glasses, until he reached the post, thinking how much depended upon him. +Barellan was carrying his fortunes. If he won what a change there would +be in his life. If Jerry had not suggested his buying a ticket probably +the opportunity would have gone by. Certainly he must be remembered if +Barellan won. Had he not bought the ticket, and, with it, luck?</p> + +<p>He looked round. All faces, thousands of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> them, were turned in one +direction, watching the horses at the post, waiting for the signal when +they would be dispatched on their journey. There was not much delay; +they were well-trained. The starter had the jockeys under control. He +was an autocrat, his powers great. It went ill with those who disobeyed +him.</p> + +<p>They were off; a terrific shout proclaimed it. The race for the great +stake had commenced. What Glen Leigh felt at that moment he hardly knew. +He had a hazy idea something was going to happen that would dash all his +hopes. He shook off the feeling and determined to take a hopeful view of +the situation.</p> + +<p>Jack was making the pace. He had a light weight. His jockey was told to +go ahead and wear the field down; the little fellow was nothing loth to +do so; for one thing, he would be out of harm's way, and be in no danger +of getting shut in. Jack was a dull grey horse, not a brilliant +performer by any means, although on one or two occasions he had shown a +turn of speed. There could be no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> doubt he was on his best behaviour, +for, as they passed the stand, he was half a dozen lengths ahead of his +field. Glen looked at each horse as they swept past; there was Barellan +in the middle division, on the rails, going at an even pace; Roland, the +favourite, was just in front of him. Close behind came Isaac, and +Mackay; he was in good company.</p> + +<p>Round the bend they swept, a cheer greeting them from Tattersalls' +stand. Jack spread out, increasing his lead as they entered the back +stretch. Half-way along the field closed up. There was not a long tail. +It was a pretty sight, thirty-one bright colours showing up, glinting in +the sunlight. The sheds were reached when racing began in earnest, for +no laggards here had any chance of success.</p> + +<p>Glen's glasses were levelled on the sky-blue jacket. He wondered when +Nicholl would make a forward move. He became anxious. Was he lying too +far back? Ought he not to be nearer the front? Why did he let Jack get +so far ahead? These and sundry other questions jostled each other in +Glen's mind.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span></p> + +<p>Bill Bigs, and Jim, were standing together on the terrace. They had a +fair view of the race.</p> + +<p>"Jack's got a lead on them," said Bill.</p> + +<p>"He'll give way before long," replied Jim.</p> + +<p>"Don't you be too sure, young man," said someone behind him. "I've seen +Jack do a good couple of miles several times lately."</p> + +<p>"You don't think he'll win?" asked Bill.</p> + +<p>"I won't go so far as that, but I reckon he'll put up a good fight," +answered the stranger: then asked, "What have you backed?"</p> + +<p>"Barellan," said Bill.</p> + +<p>"A friend of mine's on him. He fancies him a lot. Knows his owner, I +believe."</p> + +<p>"So do I. He's not much to know," remarked Bill.</p> + +<p>The stranger laughed.</p> + +<p>"He is rather unpopular," he said.</p> + +<p>"Look!" cried Jim. "Barellan and the favourite are going up."</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh saw the move on Nicholl's part. His heart was in his mouth. +The jockey had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> just squeezed Barellan through on the rails and the +favourite had to go on the outside. As they neared the home turn the +crowd shouted. The names of half a dozen horses rang out clearly over +the course.</p> + +<p>Jack was first into the straight. He had made all the running and was +still going strong. Glen wondered if they would get on terms with him.</p> + +<p>Isaac, finding an opening, dashed through. The Derby winner was bound to +be thereabouts. He had run well and was coming out at the right time; +his rider's pink jacket and white cap showed conspicuously.</p> + +<p>Mackay's jockey pushed his mount and ran into third place, behind Jack +and Isaac. They were all in the straight now, thirty-one runners, and +the centre lot, numbering about a score, were all of a heap. The jackets +looked bunched together, a many-hued mass of colour.</p> + +<p>Barellan lost his position on the rails as they rounded the bend. He was +not forced out but ran wide. Nicholl, taken by surprise at this move, +thought it must be his leg pained<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> him, and he wanted more room. He grew +anxious. There was a slight faltering on Barellan's part. He must be +nursed carefully or he might break down, and nursing at this critical +point, when every horse with a chance was making a run, spelt defeat, +being left behind. As it was Barellan fell back when he ought to have +come into the front rank.</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh's hand shook as he held his glasses. The sky-blue jacket was +right away at the end of the middle division. Barellan's chance looked +forlorn. His hopes were shattered; the thousands vanished into thin air; +it was what he might have expected. How could he win with only a +sovereign invested? It was absurd on the face of it. He was foolish to +buoy himself with false hopes. He had raised a mirage in which he saw +happiness and full content. Now it vanished and would never appear +again.</p> + +<p>"It is all up," he muttered. "I was a fool to think I could win such a +sum."</p> + +<p>"Hang it all, where's that beastly blue jacket got to?" said Bill.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Right away back," returned Jim. "We're done. I'm sorry for Glen."</p> + +<p>It was with mingled feelings Bellshaw saw Barellan fall back; he wanted +to win a Melbourne Cup, at the same time he wished Leigh to lose his +sweep money. He hardly knew which feeling was the stronger. If Barellan +were beaten he would have the satisfaction of knowing Leigh had been +done out of thousands and there was a chance that he, Bellshaw, might +win the Cup another time.</p> + +<p>Ivor Hadwin guessed why Barellan ran wide and lost his place at the +bend. It was the strain on his bound foot which caused it; he ran out to +ease it. Would he regain his position? He doubted it, but knew the horse +was one of the gamest, and at the end of two miles he went as fast as +the average horse at the end of half the distance, so he hoped for the +best as he fixed his glasses on the sky-blue jacket.</p> + +<p>Jack shot his bolt. He had done well, and was not disgraced, but the +pace and the distance proved too much for him. Isaac took his place, the +Derby winner coming<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> along in great style. His numerous admirers and +supporters were on good terms with themselves. Roland came with a rattle +and ran into third place behind Isaac and Out Back, who made a terrific +run from the bend. A large field of horses in the straight, at the +finishing struggle for a Melbourne Cup, is one of the most exciting +scenes in the racing world; it rouses the lethargic to some sort of +enthusiasm, and a lover of the great game almost goes frantic over it. +From the moment the horses race in desperate earnest, when the bend is +cleared, the pent-up excitement continues until the winning post is +passed.</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh, with a matter of twenty-five thousand at issue, looked on +wonderingly; even the melancholy fact that Barellan was so far back did +not obliterate from view the grand sight he witnessed. As he looked at +the various horses, one by one, from Isaac in the lead, his rider's pink +jacket and white cap standing out alone, he gave a gasp of surprise. +What caused it?</p> + +<p>"Look at Barellan!" yelled a man standing near him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span></p> + +<p>Glen looked, his eyes glued on the sky-blue jacket. It was this which +had caused the gasp of surprise. Barellan was going great guns, and +passing horse after horse in a remarkable manner. His name was shouted +over the course, far and wide.</p> + +<p>"Barellan, Barellan!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> + +<h3>WHAT A FINISH!</h3> + + +<p>What looked like a hopeless position was turned into a promising +situation as Barellan came up the course at a tremendous pace. It was a +thrilling sight, watching the sky-blue jacket forging ahead, and Glen +Leigh's pulses beat rapidly. His body quivered as it had never done +before as he watched Barellan galloping the field to a standstill. The +shouting was tremendous. The noise deafening. Barellan's name echoed +over the course. Smack, on Roland, cast a hasty glance back and caught +sight of the blue on the outside. Barellan had "dropped from the +clouds." It was now or never. If he caught Isaac he might win. He raised +his whip, shaking it at the favourite. The gallant Caulfield Cup winner +responded gamely and was soon at the Derby winner's quarters. In another +moment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> he crept up, drawing level, and there was a rare set-to for the +advantage.</p> + +<p>Nicholl watched the leading pair. A smile flickered across his face. +They were playing into his hands, wearing each other down. The struggle +must tell, and there was still a furlong to go. Almost level with +Barellan were Rosehill and Out Back, the last named still going well. +When Barellan forged ahead and left them there was a terrific yell. Glen +Leigh dropped his glasses in his excitement. A man picked them up, +handing them to him, saying with a smile, "I expect you're on Barellan."</p> + +<p>"I drew him in the sweep," said Glen.</p> + +<p>The man stared at him, then said, "And you stand a good chance of +winning. Lucky fellow, you are."</p> + +<p>The chase commenced. Three to four lengths in front were Isaac and +Roland. The form was coming out well. If Barellan beat the Derby and +Caulfield Cup winners he would indeed be a great horse. When he lost his +place, and fell back soon after rounding the bend, there were at least a +dozen lengths to make up. It seemed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> impossible it could be done. +Nicholl rode with splendid judgment, nursing his mount carefully, easing +him as far as he dare, but he could not afford to lose more ground. Then +came the sudden spurt on the horse's part, without being forced. It was +a spontaneous effort, without pressure, and Nicholl's hopes rose +rapidly. His winning prospects increased with every stride.</p> + +<p>Pandemonium reigned on the course. This was to be a most exciting +finish. If Barellan kept up his run to the finish there was no telling +what might happen.</p> + +<p>Isaac was on the rails, Roland level with him, the pair racing in grim +earnest, fighting as only the best thoroughbreds can; no giving way, no +acknowledging defeat, a battle of giants, stern, determined, the jockeys +helping their mounts with all the skill and experience at their command.</p> + +<p>Barellan, and Out Back, were having a tussle behind the leading pair. +The spectators, roused to a boiling pitch of excitement, watched first +the leaders, then the others, and wondered if the latter pair would get +up.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was a breathless scene, full of strange emotion, bringing out all the +pent-up enthusiasm that nothing can rouse like a great race. People +watched with bated breath; hands shook, hearts palpitated, eyes blinked, +faces twitched, nerves twinged, pulses beat rapidly. In all those +thousands no one appeared to stand quite still. There were movements +everywhere; it was impossible to restrain them.</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh's mind was in a whirl.</p> + +<p>Twenty-five thousand pounds at stake, a fortune on Barellan and the +horse was only a few lengths from the winning post. He guessed how many, +twenty, thirty, more, less, which was it? What did it matter, if only he +won at the finish!</p> + +<p>"He'll win, he'll win, he'll win," seemed to be the refrain in Glen's +ears as he now and then caught a dull sound of hoofs when there were +brief lulls in the shouting.</p> + +<p>"Go on, Luke," he yelled. "Go on. You'll catch 'em."</p> + +<p>He could not restrain his feelings. He must shout or something would +happen. The strain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> was too great. There might be a snap, and then +collapse.</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh was a strong man, hard and fit, but the perspiration stood on +his forehead like beads, then gradually trickled down his face. He did +not feel it. Even when the drops wet his eyes he took no notice. He +glared at the sky-blue jacket through a mist which soon passed, although +for the moment it dimmed his vision. He put down the glasses. He could +see without them. The horses were not far off. He bent forward, swayed a +little. The man who had spoken to him thought he was about to fall and +caught him by the arm. He remembered a policeman, who had drawn the +winner, falling down dead on the lawn as the horses passed the post.</p> + +<p>Glen felt the friendly pressure, and said in a thick voice, "Thanks. I'm +all right."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Roar after roar came from the surging crowd as Roland, the favourite, +got his head in front of Isaac.</p> + +<p>The shouts of triumph rang in the air,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> heralding the victory of the +favourite, and when this happens in a Melbourne Cup the scene baffles +description. Who that saw it will ever forget the wonderful victory of +Carbine when he carried top weight, started favourite, and beat +Forester's Highborn, and Correze, both outsiders, easily? It was a sight +seen only once in a lifetime. It equalled Persimmon's Derby, if it did +not surpass it, and "Old Jack" took it all quietly, for, as he passed +the winning post, he stopped, turned round, and made for the weighing +enclosure without any assistance from Ramage, his pilot. This race was +more exciting than Carbine's Cup even, for there were four horses in it, +all with chances, and close on the winning post.</p> + +<p>"Even hundred nobody names it," yelled a bookmaker in the ring. It was a +safe offer, for nobody could name it except by a lucky guess.</p> + +<p>Roland was a neck in front of Isaac, Out Back and Barellan were on their +quarters.</p> + +<p>An electric current seemed to shoot through the living mass of human +beings and galvanise<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> them into life; such a shout rent the air as had +not been heard at Flemington before. There had been desperate finishes +between two horses, but here were four putting up one of the greatest +battles ever seen.</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh shook with excitement. Small wonder at it, for the sky-blue +jacket had passed Out Back, and drawn almost level with Isaac.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure of the place money," thought Glen with a sigh of relief.</p> + +<p>Sure of the place money! In another second Barellan looked all over a +winner. Roland, hard ridden, held his own. Isaac was only half a length +off, the three together, with Out Back on the Derby winner's quarters. +What a fight, and what a great compliment to the handicapper, for behind +the leading four came a cluster of six, not two lengths away.</p> + +<p>Bill Bigs and Jim were well nigh frantic. Their hats were off. They +yelled, "Barellan," until they were hoarse.</p> + +<p>Ivor Hadwin turned pale. The strain was almost more than he could bear. +If, if only Barellan got his head in front as they passed the judge's +box.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He will. He'll win," almost shouted the trainer, who had to give way +under the pressure. His shouts acted like a safety valve.</p> + +<p>Barellan was head and head with Isaac, Roland half a length to the good, +and the winning post a few yards away.</p> + +<p>Luke Nicholl, for the first time, raised his whip. He was on the outside +and his right arm was free.</p> + +<p>One cut, another, a third, not too sharp, just sufficient to sting, to +give Barellan a reminder.</p> + +<p>The effect was astounding. Barellan, acting under the unexpected, went +forward with a final rush. His speed was so great that he caught up to +the favourite in two strides; his head shot out, his nostrils red and +wide, his eyes glared, his nose, then half a head, was in front; a +fraction of a second's suspense, then he claimed a head advantage, then +half a neck, a neck, and when this was realised the stands seemed to +shake with the deafening noise. It was marvellous. Rounding the bend +Barellan had fallen back a dozen lengths. His case seemed hopeless. He +had made up all the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> lost ground in the straight, and now he had his +neck in front of all the runners.</p> + +<p>Roland made a desperate effort, reducing the distance to half a neck +again. Isaac drew up, so did Out Back. The four horses were all +together.</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh looked, and looked. He had a dim vision of blue, pink, black, +white, red, orange, mixed together. Was the blue in front? He thought +so. How he hoped no one else knew.</p> + +<p>At last the struggle was at an end. The horses passed the post, four of +them with not a length between them. An anxious pause; thousands of +people could not tell which had won, the numbers were not up. The judge +seemed a long time hoisting them, but up they went at last. He placed +Barellan first, Roland second, a neck away, Isaac and Out Back, half a +length away, dead heat for third place.</p> + +<p>What a finish!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> + +<h3>A TERRIBLE SAVAGE</h3> + + +<p>It was over. Barellan had won, and Glen Leigh was the fortunate holder +of his number in the sweep. He had come into a fortune at one stroke. He +elbowed his way through the crowd hardly knowing what he was doing, and +went in search of his friends. It was not easy to find them in the great +crowd streaming towards Tattersalls and the paddock. As he pushed +through the ring he saw people gathering round bookmakers. Barellan must +have been well backed; hundreds were drawing money. He saw nothing of +Bill and Jim. He would go into the paddock. They might be there, +thinking he had gone to look at the winner.</p> + +<p>Nicholl had weighed in and was standing talking to the trainer as Glen +appeared on the scene. They greeted him heartily, shaking his hand, +congratulating him on his good fortune.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There's five hundred each for you," said Glen.</p> + +<p>They thanked him; it was a generous gift.</p> + +<p>"I never felt so queer in my life as I did when Barellan fell back just +after rounding the bend," declared Glen. "What happened?"</p> + +<p>"I thought he was going to crack up," answered the jockey. "It must have +been his foot. I fancy he wanted to ease it as he came round the bend; +it probably pinched him."</p> + +<p>"That's it," said Hadwin. "There's no doubt about it. What a run he made +up the straight. I never saw anything like it."</p> + +<p>While they were talking Bellshaw came up, scowling. He did not look like +the owner of the Cup winner.</p> + +<p>"You see I was right," said Hadwin. "He won a great race."</p> + +<p>"Which Nicholl nearly threw away," retorted Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"You're mistaken," said the jockey. "If Barellan hadn't been one of the +gamest horses that ever looked through a bridle he would never have got +up and won."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You ran him out wide at the bend when you had a good position on the +rails," said Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>Nicholl explained, but the squatter was in no mood to listen to reason. +He had won the Melbourne Cup, but Glen Leigh had won first prize in the +sweep, and this made him rage. By all the rights of ownership he ought +at least to have five thousand laid him if his horse won. When he +thought how Leigh threatened him with exposure, he could have killed him +without compunction. There was no more dissatisfied man on the course +than the owner of the Cup winner. He had no pleasure in the victory. The +cheering he knew was not for him but for the horse and jockey.</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh walked away to avoid him. He saw the man was in no mood to be +crossed and was almost beside himself with ill-feeling and +disappointment. It was not, however, Bellshaw's intention that Glen +should escape him. He wished to quarrel with somebody, and Leigh scented +his purpose. He walked after him and said, loud enough for those +standing near to hear, "You've won the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> sweep money by the aid of my +horse. Are you man enough to give me something out of it?"</p> + +<p>Glen guessed by the way he spoke he meant mischief. There was menace in +his voice. He stopped, faced him, and answered, "I'm man enough to +refuse to give you a penny out of it."</p> + +<p>Bellshaw swore, then stepping up to him said savagely, "I suppose you'll +try and get Rosa Prevost—buy her with the money you've won? You'll not +succeed. I'll outbid you. She's fond of money, besides she's been my +woman for several years. Perhaps you don't know that. I never intended +marrying her. She knew it, and was quite contented with my terms. She +will be so again. You stand no chance. I can easily convince her she +will be better off with me."</p> + +<p>His insulting words made Glen Leigh's blood boil.</p> + +<p>"Be careful what you say or it will be the worse for you," he said.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw laughed.</p> + +<p>"Can't you find another woman? Are you tied down to marry my mistress?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span></p> + +<p>By way of reply Glen Leigh raised his right arm, clenched his fist, +struck Bellshaw full in the mouth and knocked him down.</p> + +<p>Ivor Hadwin, Bill Bigs and Jim Benny saw what happened; they hurried +through the crowd and gathered round them. "Get out of this, Glen," said +Bill, "or there'll be ructions."</p> + +<p>Hadwin pulled Bellshaw away as he struggled to his feet.</p> + +<p>"You can't fight here. They'll hustle you on the course if you do. A +nice thing to happen to the owner of the Cup winner."</p> + +<p>Bill caught Glen by the arm, dragging him along. Bellshaw seemed in no +hurry to return the blow. He let the trainer lead him away. His mouth +was bleeding, his lip cut. The blow was severe; Glen had hard hitting +powers.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw turned his attention to his trainer, calling him names, abusing +him generally, then suddenly turned sullen and walked away. Soon after +he left the course and went to his hotel.</p> + +<p>He sat down and wrote a letter to Nick Gerard saying he would accept his +wager of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> two thousand pounds to find a horse Glen Leigh could not ride +for a quarter of an hour. The match must take place in Sydney the +following week, the Saturday night, and there must be no other acceptors +of the offer. He returned to Sydney by the mail train that night, and on +arriving there journeyed to Mintaro.</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh received his cheque for the sweep money by the end of the +week. It amounted to twenty-four thousand, six hundred pounds. He knew +now what it was to possess money. He paid Luke Nicholl and Ivor Hadwin +five hundred each, and gave handsome gifts to Bill and Jim and to Jerry +Makeshift.</p> + +<p>Nick Gerard showed Glen Bellshaw's letter, accepting his challenge, and +asked him what he thought about it.</p> + +<p>"I'll ride anything he cares to put into the ring," replied Glen. "He's +got some horses at Mintaro that are terrible savages, almost mad, but +I'll try and win your money, Nick. I'd like to beat him."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then I'll accept his offer and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> withdraw the notice. He'll +find you enough to do, I expect," said Nick smiling.</p> + +<p>"He will, you can depend upon that. He's pretty certain he can find +something that will throw me, or he'd not have accepted," answered Glen.</p> + +<p>"And will Saturday next week suit you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, the show goes back to Sydney on Monday."</p> + +<p>"Capital; there'll be an exciting struggle. I suppose there's no doubt +Bellshaw will play fair?"</p> + +<p>"I don't see how he can help it. He'll pick out a nasty brute for me to +ride, but that's part of the game," said Glen.</p> + +<p>On all sides Glen was congratulated on winning first prize in the sweep. +He was inundated with letters from all sorts of people, anxious to +negotiate loans for the most part, others who wished to recommend safe +investments. Land agents offered him ideal residences, owners of horses +placed prices on their animals for him; charities solicited him, women +wrote saying they were quite willing to consider him as a husband if he +wanted a wife.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span></p> + +<p>Glen laughed at them all. He placed his money in the bank and went on +his way contented.</p> + +<p>When Bellshaw arrived at Mintaro unexpectedly he explained what he +wanted—the worst horse that could be found, a savage, quite ready to +kill and tear a man to pieces.</p> + +<p>His new overseer, Sam Wimpole, he had appointed when Garry Backham left; +he was a man of his master's stamp, cruel, unscrupulous. Already the +hands hated him; more than one had threatened to do for him.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw explained what he wanted, then added, "If you can find me a +horse that will throw him I'll give you a hundred pounds. I want to win +the wager. I want to see him injured for life, or better still, killed +outright. Do you understand?"</p> + +<p>Wimpole grinned. He understood. He knew the sort of horse. There was one +at Five Rocks, ten times worse than The Savage. It would be risky +catching him and taking him to Sydney, but once there he'd bet any money +Leigh couldn't sit on him five minutes. It was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> more than likely the +brute would kill him. It was a big powerful brown stallion, as big as +old Tear'em, and worse tempered. He should say he was seven or eight +years old and had never been handled.</p> + +<p>"The beast chased me five or six miles," he said. "If he'd caught me I +shouldn't be here to tell you about him."</p> + +<p>This news put Bellshaw in a better humour. The idea of maiming Glen +Leigh was just to his mind. He ordered Wimpole to yard the horse no +matter at what danger, or risk, and to take him to Bourke and from there +to Sydney.</p> + +<p>Next day Wimpole, taking the bulk of the hands with him, managed, after +much trouble, to yard the horse, among others, lasso him, and throw him +down, keeping him bound until he was exhausted with his struggles. On +the way to Mintaro the horse savaged two men, lamed three horses, and +had a tussle with Wimpole which almost caused the overseer to wish he'd +not told Bellshaw anything about him.</p> + +<p>When the owner of Mintaro saw the great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> powerful, unbroken, fiery +stallion, and heard of the damage he had already done, he was satisfied. +He had no doubt he would win the wager, and that Glen Leigh would +probably be seriously injured.</p> + +<p>"It's worth a hundred to take him to Bourke," said Wimpole.</p> + +<p>"You shall have it when he's trained," returned Bellshaw. "You must go +in the same train with me."</p> + +<p>"I'd best take a couple more hands with me," said Wimpole. "He's more +than a match for me."</p> + +<p>To this Bellshaw assented. All he thought about was injuring Leigh.</p> + +<p>It was an awful experience taking the horse to Bourke, but after a lot +of cruel treatment, which cowed him for a time, they succeeded. He was +put in an ordinary cattle truck and securely lashed back and front; a +band was also thrown round him and fastened to each side. Twice he broke +the stout ropes, but finally he was tied securely.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw watched the operation with evident<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> pleasure. He was thinking +what was in store for Glen Leigh. It made him smile grimly.</p> + +<p>The station master asked Bellshaw what he was going to do with the horse +if he got him safely to his destination.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw explained about the wager, and who was to ride the horse.</p> + +<p>The station master made an ordinary remark, but when the train started +he muttered, as he looked after it, "Leigh'll be killed if he attempts +to ride that brute."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> + +<h3>MAN AND HORSE LAY SIDE BY SIDE</h3> + + +<p>There was some earnest conversation between Bellshaw and his overseer on +the way to Sydney.</p> + +<p>"You'll do it," said Bellshaw. "Promise me you'll do it, and I'll give +you fifty pounds down."</p> + +<p>"I'll manage it," said Wimpole.</p> + +<p>"I shall be with the horse all the time, until he mounts, to see they +don't tamper with him," he added with a wink.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw laughed. They had hatched a wicked plot against Glen Leigh, and +Wimpole was to carry it out.</p> + +<p>"There'll be trouble if it's discovered," said Wimpole.</p> + +<p>"You're not going to back down?"</p> + +<p>"No, only if there's any danger of its being found out I shall bolt, and +it will take more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> money than you offer to get me out of the country in +comfort."</p> + +<p>"How much do you want?" asked Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"I must have five hundred planked down before I do it," replied Wimpole.</p> + +<p>"Too much," said Bellshaw, but after an angry altercation agreed to +Wimpole's terms.</p> + +<p>"The risk's great. It will be a case of manslaughter right enough if +anything happens to Leigh, and it's discovered."</p> + +<p>The announcement in huge placards and newspaper advertisements that Glen +Leigh was to ride an unbroken stallion from Mintaro for a quarter of an +hour, for a wager of two thousand a side, between Craig Bellshaw and +Nicholas Gerard, roused curiosity to its highest pitch, and there was a +prospect of an enormous attendance. Glen Leigh was confident Bellshaw +would be unable to find a horse that could unseat him. Bill Bigs did not +like the look of things; he thought of foul play. He did not trust +Bellshaw. He knew the squatter would give a good round sum to injure +Leigh.</p> + +<p>Glen had been to Manley and seen Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> Prevost; he asked her to be his +wife, and she consented. When she alluded to the past he said it was +buried; he had no wish to unearth it. Clara Benny, as she was still +called, looked much better since she had been with Mrs. Prevost. There +was no doubt her health would be completely restored, but whether this +meant the recovery of her lost memory was uncertain. Mrs. Prevost tried +to persuade Glen not to ride in the match. She was sure he would be +injured, Bellshaw was such a vindictive man.</p> + +<p>Glen laughed her fears away, and made her promise to come and see him +win the wager; he said Bellshaw would have no chance of using foul play +against him.</p> + +<p>"You'll give up the show after this match?" she begged.</p> + +<p>"I'll hand my share over to Jim Benny," he answered. "I'll only go into +the ring when you give me permission," he added smiling. He knew she +would consent when he asked her.</p> + +<p>The excitement caused over the two thousand pound wager was intense, and +on Saturday<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> night the building was crammed to suffocation.</p> + +<p>Sam Wimpole had the horse in readiness, saddled and bridled, as it would +have been impossible to do this in the ring. The horse was in a savage +mood. Since morning he had gradually grown worse. Just before the +performance was to commence he was in a perfect fury, lashing out, and +biting at his tormentors.</p> + +<p>Sam Wimpole watched him with a peculiar smile. When Craig Bellshaw came +to look at Lion, as they named him, Sam cautioned him not to go near.</p> + +<p>"Have you done it?" asked Bellshaw in a whisper.</p> + +<p>"Yes, gave him an injection an hour ago. He's had three. I'll give him +another before he goes into the ring; it will drive him almost mad. I +wouldn't mount him for a thousand pounds."</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't like to try you," said Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't really. What's a thousand pounds against your life?"</p> + +<p>"Is it as bad as that?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Quite."</p> + +<p>Bellshaw's smile was ugly. In imagination he saw Glen Leigh stretched +out a crushed and battered mass.</p> + +<p>The time drew nearer. A quarter of an hour before—the struggle was to +commence at nine—Sam Wimpole took out a small syringe from his +waistcoat pocket, crept up to the horse's side, and quickly made an +injection. Lion shivered, then gave a snort, and tried to grab Sam as he +nipped back into safety.</p> + +<p>Sam wished to be rid of the syringe. It had done its work, but he dare +not throw it away, and he could not go outside; he placed it in his +trousers pocket for the time being.</p> + +<p>Lion was led into the ring by two men who had long poles strapped on +each side of his bit. No one was to be in the ring when Leigh took the +bridle in his hand and the poles were loosened and taken away. There was +a breathless silence as the horse stood quivering; it was broken by a +deafening cheer as Glen Leigh came in. Lion reared and plunged at the +sound, but was held fast. Leigh came towards<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> him, a heavy whip in his +hand. He walked straight up to the horse, looking him in the eyes; at +that moment he fancied there was something wrong with Lion, who seemed +frenzied. His eyes glowed like live coals, his breath was hot, steaming; +Glen felt it on his face. He undid the pole straps, made a signal to the +men, who hastily drew them away and ran out of the ring, and sprang into +the saddle before Lion was aware of his intention. Glen knew if he once +got safely seated half the battle would be won. Luck favoured him in +this respect.</p> + +<p>The horse had never been mounted until this moment, and for a few +seconds he seemed paralysed with fright at the strange experience. This +did not last long. With a wicked bound he tried to get rid of his +strange burden. It was a vain hope. Glen stuck to the saddle like a +limpet to a rock. Lion was a far stronger horse than the Savage, and +Wimpole had given him a drug that would increase his strength and +endurance until the effect died away. Never had Glen Leigh been on such +a horse.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> He knew Lion possessed tremendous strength. The strain on his +arms was immense, also on the whole of his body.</p> + +<p>Lion did not act like an ordinary buckjumper. He had his own plans of +getting rid of his burden; they were quite original because they had +been brought into play for the first time. He had a long reach, and +whenever he tried to bite Glen's thigh he had to pull his legs back +quickly. The horse showed no inclination to lie down, or to crush Glen +against the posts. Without the slightest warning he set off on a furious +gallop round and round the ring. After a dozen rounds he began bucking +as no horse ever bucked before. Up and down he went like a rocking +horse, then on all fours off the ground, his back arched to a point, all +the saddle gear strained to bursting.</p> + +<p>Glen felt the perspiration pouring off him. It was the hardest struggle +of his life, but he intended winning. He would not be beaten.</p> + +<p>Everybody in the vast audience watched the large clock as the fingers +crept slowly on, the large hand gradually drawing nearer to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> the +quarter-past. Bellshaw watched the struggle between man and horse with +absorbing interest. He knew what had been done, and that the horse +possessed demoniacal strength for the time being.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Prevost, her face white, her hands clutching nervously, watched +every movement in the ring; how she prayed for his safety, and for the +clock to point to a quarter-past nine. Never had she undergone such an +ordeal. It would be in her memory for the rest of her life. Supposing he +were killed? The horse seemed like some evil beast possessed of devils. +She almost shrieked as a mad plunge nearly unseated Leigh for the first +time, but he was still there. By some marvellous power he stuck to the +saddle and the battle went on.</p> + +<p>Glen Leigh knew the horse did not lose strength; rather had he gained it +during the last few minutes. It surprised him, but he had no time to +think.</p> + +<p>Lion stood on his forelegs, his head almost touching the ground, his +hind quarters straight<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> up in the air. In this horizontal position he +twisted like an eel, trying to wriggle Glen on to his neck. He leaned +right back until his body was level with the horse's, then changing his +whip quickly, he hit backwards, bringing the heavy knob hard on the root +of the tail. This was too much for Lion. He came down on all fours and +Glen shot bolt upright. There was a tremendous cheer. It was a wonderful +piece of riding.</p> + +<p>"I've never seen such a devil of a horse," said Nick. "It seems to me +he's mad. I hope no harm will come to Glen."</p> + +<p>Bill was nervous. It was the first time he had felt such a sensation. He +turned to the bookmaker and said in a low voice, "It's my belief +somebody's doped that horse—given him a drug. He'd never go on like +that if he hadn't had something."</p> + +<p>"They'd hardly dare do that," answered Nick.</p> + +<p>"You don't know Bellshaw. He's capable of doing anything," returned +Bill.</p> + +<p>There was no time for more. Lion was at it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> again, fighting more +furiously during the last five minutes than he had done before. It was a +question of endurance. Would Glen Leigh last out? Once, twice, a third +time, he swayed in the saddle. A woman's cry echoed through the +building. It was Mrs. Prevost. She had to be held up in her seat. It was +only by exercising her will power to the uttermost that she recovered.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw stared at the strugglers with his eyes bulging. He looked at +the clock—four minutes, and Glen Leigh was well nigh dead-beat. Not one +person in that vast crowd thought the horse would throw him, but they +dreaded lest he should fall off exhausted.</p> + +<p>Three minutes and he still stuck on, but his grasp on the reins +loosened, and Lion, feeling this, redoubled his efforts. The fight was +terrific, too thrilling almost to witness. The horse possessed almost +miraculous strength.</p> + +<p>Two minutes, and for the next sixty seconds Lion bucked like a clockwork +machine until every bone in Glen's body felt like cracking. Only one +minute to the quarter and still<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> Glen kept his seat. Half a minute more; +a great gasp came from the crowd as Glen sank forward, clasping the +savage brute with both arms round the neck, but he was still in the +saddle. He was not thrown. The position was one of grave danger for Lion +could reach his arms with his mouth. The horse stopped, panting, his +nostrils blood red, his eyes shooting fire; they gleamed angrily.</p> + +<p>"Get off," yelled Nick.</p> + +<p>"Get off," yelled Bill, and hundreds of voices took up the cry. A +shudder of horror passed through the huge crowd. Women fainted. Strong +men shook. Hundreds hid their faces.</p> + +<p>Lion, with a sudden swerve of his neck, got his teeth in Glen Leigh's +arm. The pain was terrible. The muscles burned like fire. He caught +sight of the clock. Only a second or two and he would win. Could he +stand it? Lion tore his arm, then tried to seize his leg, but Glen was +too quick for him.</p> + +<p>"Time!"</p> + +<p>A terrific shout.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Time!" shouted the frantic crowd, and as Glen Leigh heard it he rolled +out of the saddle in a dead faint; before anyone could rush up Lion +planted his fore feet on his chest and bent his head towards his face.</p> + +<p>"Shoot him! He'll tear his face," shouted Nick.</p> + +<p>"You can't. He's my horse," yelled Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>Bill rushed forward, an iron bar in his hand, and in the nick of time +brought it down on Lion's head with a mighty sweep. He dropped like a +log. Man and horse lay side by side in the ring.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXX</h2> + +<h3>THE SWEEP WINNER'S HOME</h3> + + +<p>Glen Leigh was taken to the Kangaroo and nursed by Mrs. Prevost. His +chest was crushed, his arm lacerated, but he made a wonderful recovery, +and in a week was removed to Sea View, Manley, where, needless to say, +he received every attention.</p> + +<p>The terrible fight between Glen and Lion was the topic of conversation +for several days. Many trainers who were present were firmly convinced +the horse had been drugged, or he would never have been so savage, or +possessed such strength and staying powers. Nothing however, was +discovered, and Sam Wimpole, in order to extract his money from +Bellshaw, had to threaten him with exposure.</p> + +<p>Glen was of this opinion. He, too, thought Lion had been dosed, but as +he won the wager he thought it best to make no enquiries.</p> + +<p>Craig Bellshaw was beaten. His temper was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> not improved. He heard Leigh +was at Manley, and decided to go and visit Mrs. Prevost. Some years ago, +when he was infatuated with her, he had made a will in her favour, +leaving her Mintaro and all the stock on it; this he decided to alter as +soon as possible. He would tell her when he reached the house.</p> + +<p>He landed from the boat, walking along the street to the sea-front. As +he turned in at the gate he looked up at the bedroom window. What he saw +caused a shock which almost deprived him of reason. He stood staring at +what he thought was the ghost of the woman he had left to die of hunger +and thirst. It was Clara looking out. She saw him enter. Her face +changed rapidly. The seat of memory was no longer vacant. She recognised +him, and with the recognition returned a flood of recollections. The +horror on her face made it look unearthly. She fixed her eyes on +Bellshaw with a glassy stare which he returned; he dare not move. Leigh +told him the woman was dead and this must be an apparition.</p> + +<p>What did it mean?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span></p> + +<p>Of one thing, in his confused state of mind, he was certain; he must fly +from the spot. But his feet were rooted to the ground, and he could not +take his eyes off.</p> + +<p>The woman swayed to and fro, pointed at him with her hand. Then suddenly +the thing vanished. She had fallen on to the floor in a dead faint.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw knew nothing of this—he was horrified. His mind gradually +became unhinged. He imagined the ghost disappeared suddenly in order to +come out to him, perhaps seize him. In his frenzy he attributed +supernatural strength to the apparition. It might carry him off, take +him away to some dreadful place.</p> + +<p>Bellshaw turned and fled, running along the sea-front like a madman, +then turning towards the landing stage; reaching it, as the steamer was +moving away, he ran on, and despite all the warning cries made a +desperate leap. His head struck the paddle box; the wheel spun him round +as he fell into the water. The boat stopped, assistance was at once +rendered, but Bellshaw had disappeared. After waiting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> a quarter of an +hour the captain left one of his men behind to report to the police, and +proceeded on his journey to Circular Quay.</p> + +<p>Craig Bellshaw's body was recovered later on in the day. His head having +struck the paddle box, he was rendered unconscious and he sank like a +stone.</p> + +<p>When Clara fell with a thud on the floor of the bedroom, Mrs. Prevost +rushed upstairs and found her insensible. A severe illness of some weeks +followed. When she recovered she remembered everything in her life at +Mintaro, and how she came to Glen Leigh's hut. It was a pitiful story, +and Glen Leigh, Mrs. Prevost, Bigs and Jim listened to it in sadness. As +a young girl she recollected being with Lin Soo. How he obtained +possession of her she had no idea. There were other girls about her own +age, and they were kindly treated for several years.</p> + +<p>Then one day she recollected Bellshaw coming to Lin Soo's. She did not +like him; she shrank from him when he touched her. She only had a hazy +idea of how she was taken to Mintaro. She must have been drugged in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> +some way. At first Bellshaw treated her kindly, doing all in his power +to ingratiate himself with her. She refused all his advances, and this +changed his whole actions towards her. He attempted to force her to his +will and failed. Garry Backham assisted her as far as he dare. He +smuggled a revolver into her room, and with this she felt safe. For a +long time her life was one constant, unceasing watchfulness. She dare +not sleep. When she dozed she awoke in a fright fearing Bellshaw was +near her. She shot at him once, wounding him in the arm. It was soon +after this he said he was tired of her and offered to drive her to +Bourke and send her to Sydney.</p> + +<p>She related what happened when they reached the water hole; how he +thrust her out of the buggy, sprang after her, and tried to push her +into the muddy water. She struggled, then fainted. When she came to +herself she was alone, lost in the great spaces surrounding her. She +struggled on for several days, until at last she staggered into Glen's +hut, and fell on his rough bed.</p> + +<p>In answer to questions she said she had no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> idea who her parents were, +nor did she seem to remember any home other than Lin Soo's. It could do +no good questioning her further, so the subject dropped. She explained +how she saw Bellshaw looking up at the window and he recognised her. +Glen expressed the opinion that Bellshaw must have thought he had seen a +ghost and the sight turned his brain.</p> + +<p>At the inquest held on him, death was stated to be caused by drowning, +and that this was brought about in the manner already described. Craig +Bellshaw's lawyer had his will. He came to Sea View. Great was Rosa +Prevost's surprise when she discovered that Mintaro and all the stock on +the station was her absolute property. Looking at the date of the will +she knew he must have forgotten to alter it until too late. She +consulted Glen Leigh as to whether she should take advantage of it, and +he left it entirely in her hands. The lawyer strongly advised her to +take over Mintaro as there were no direct heirs to it. This she decided +to do, more for Glen's sake than for her own.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Ten years had gone by since Bellshaw's death and other happenings. Glen +Leigh and his wife, Rosa Prevost, lived at Mintaro, where everything +prospered with them. They had five children, three boys and two girls, +all well grown and strong.</p> + +<p>The hands at Mintaro found Leigh a very different "boss" from Bellshaw.</p> + +<p>Garry Backham sold out at Boonara and came back to Mintaro as overseer, +and very glad he was to be there under such a master. Glen mustered all +the stock on the station and found thousands more cattle and sheep than +he anticipated. Many of the wild horses were shot, others tamed and used +on the station. He bought a small stud-farm near Albury, and sent horses +to be trained by Ivor Hadwin. There was a prospect of a successful year +before the stable at the end of five seasons when Glen had a score of +horses, most of them bred by himself, in training. The sweep money came +in very handy to run the station and tide over one or two bad seasons; +when rain and the good times came Mintaro cleared a fortune for them +every year.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span></p> + +<p>Jim Benny and his wife, the woman who suffered so much at Bellshaw's +hands, and whom Jim helped Glen Leigh to save, came to Mintaro, where +Clara acted as nurse and governess to all the children until such time +as the two elder boys went to school in Sydney; she then took charge of +the three at home, and Mrs. Leigh found her a great help and a genial +companion.</p> + +<p>It took a lot of persuasion to get her to come to Mintaro, of which she +had so many unpleasant memories, but eventually they prevailed when it +was pointed out how advantageous it would be for her husband.</p> + +<p>The show was sold as a going concern; Lion had to be shot; he never +recovered from the blow Bill gave him. A post-mortem was made at +Gerard's request and the veterinary surgeon said the horse had been +heavily dosed with a powerful drug, which undoubtedly caused him to be +in a frenzy in the ring when Glen rode him.</p> + +<p>Lin Soo was tackled by Glen and Bill Bigs, and compelled to pay a large +sum of money to Mrs. Benny in order to avoid criminal prosecution. +Moreover, he was forced by them to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> leave Sydney and return to his own +country. Chun Shan was installed as head cook at Mintaro, a position he +worthily filled.</p> + +<p>Sea View, Manley, was not sold; the Leighs used it as their residence on +visits to Sydney.</p> + +<p>It was a great day for Ivor Hadwin when he won the Sydney Cup for Glen +Leigh, whose white jacket, black belt and cap, were immensely popular. +Horatio was the horse, and, as he started at two to one, the enthusiasm +was immense. Later both the V.R.C., and A.J.C. Derbies fell to Glen's +share, and he had hopes of landing a Melbourne Cup with a son of +Barellan's, who was at the Albury Stud, and a most successful sire.</p> + +<p>Glen never forgot the keepers of the fence, and when he came to Mintaro +they soon discovered they had a friend in the man who had once been one +of themselves. Glen sometimes rode there and chatted with them, +rendering their lives less lonely.</p> + +<p>One day he drove his wife to the glittering wire and showed her where he +had stood for long hours in the terrible heat and drought<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span>.</p> + +<p>"What an awful life, Glen," she said, with a shudder.</p> + +<p>"I stood it all right," he replied, "but I was glad when it ended."</p> + +<p>When Barellan's son won the Melbourne Cup, Bill Bigs, pointing Glen +Leigh out to a friend, said, "He drew Barellan in the big sweep, and now +he's won it with his son."</p> + +<p>"That isn't likely to happen again," was the reply.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't suppose it is," said Bigs.</p> + +<p>Luke Nicholl came to Mintaro for a change, which he thoroughly enjoyed. +Jerry Makeshift came with him; both were heartily welcomed.</p> + +<p>"I shall never forget it was owing to you, Jerry, I bought the ticket in +the sweep, and drew the winner," said Glen.</p> + +<p>"You've made good use of the money, anyway," was Jerry's reply.<br /> +<br /></p> + +<h2>THE END<br /></h2> + +<p class="center"><b>JOHN LONG, LIMITED, PUBLISHERS, LONDON, 1920<br /> +BRISTOL BURLEIGH LTD., AT THE BURLEIGH PRESS</b></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p class="grande">The Novels of</p> + +<p class="venti">CURTIS YORKE</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Morning Post</i>: "Whether grave or gay, the author is a +<i>raconteur</i> whose imagination and vivacity are unfailing. Few, +moreover, have in the same degree the versatility which enables +her to provoke peals of laughter and move almost to tears. The +writer is natural, realistic, and entertaining."</p></blockquote> + + + +<p class="center">DELPHINE<br /> +ENCHANTED<br /> +ONLY BETTY<br /> +MISS DAFFODIL<br /> +OLIVE KINSELLA<br /> +WAYWARD ANNE<br /> +THEIR MARRIAGE<br /> +THE OTHER SARA<br /> +MOLLIE DEVERILL<br /> +THE GIRL IN GREY<br /> +THE WOMAN RUTH<br /> +ALIX OF THE GLEN<br /> +QUEER LITTLE JANE<br /> +IRRESPONSIBLE KITTY<br /> +DANGEROUS DOROTHY<br /> +THE WORLD AND DELIA<br /> +PATRICIA OF PALL MALL<br /> +THE GIRL AND THE MAN<br /> +THE VISION OF THE YEARS<br /> +A FLIRTATION WITH TRUTH<br /> +</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>These Novels are published in various editions.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Prices from the Booksellers and Libraries.</i></p> + +<p class="center">London: John Long, Ltd., 12, 13, 14 Norris Street, Haymarket</p> +<p><span class="ipagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="venti">THE NOVELS OF NAT GOULD</p> + +<p class="grande">THE AUTHOR WHOSE SALES EXCEED 20,000,000 COPIES</p> + + +<p class="center"> Odds On<br /> + The Flyer<br /> + A Cast Off<br /> + The Roarer<br /> + The Smasher<br /> + Racing Rivals<br /> + <a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>A Great Coup<br /> + One of a Mob<br /> + Lost and Won<br /> + The Head Lad<br /> + The Silver Star<br /> + Never in Doubt<br /> + A Straight Goer<br /> + A Bird in Hand<br /> + The Top Weight<br /> + The White Arab<br /> + The Buckjumper<br /> + The Lottery Colt<br /> + The Lucky Shoe<br /> + The Dapple Grey<br /> + Whirlwind's Year<br /> + Won on the Post<br /> + Fast as the Wind<br /> + At Starting Price<br /> + The Stolen Racer<br /> + The Steeplechaser<br /> + The Lady Trainer<br /> + A Stroke of Luck<br /> + A Northern Crack<br /> + A Bit of a Rogue<br /> + Left in the Lurch<br /> + Queen of the Turf<br /> + The Little Wonder<br /> + The Sweep Winner<br /> + Good at the Game<br /> + The Selling Plater<br /> + A Race for a Wife<br /> + A Reckless Owner<br /> + <a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>A Turf Conspiracy<br /> + Charger and Chaser<br /> + A Sporting Squatter<br /> + <a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>A Gamble for Love<br /> + <a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>A Fortune at Stake<br /> + The Phantom Horse<br /> + A Member of Tatt's<br /> + The Rider in Khaki<br /> + Breaking the Record<br /> + The King's Favourite<br /> + A Chestnut Champion<br /> + The Jockey's Revenge<br /> + The Trainer's Treasure<br /> + The Pet of the Public<br /> + The Pick of the Stable<br /> + The Best of the Season<br /> + The Wizard of the Turf<br /> + A Hundred to One Chance<br /> + <a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a>The Chance of a Lifetime</p> + +<p class="center">These Novels are published in various editions</p> + +<p class="center">Prices from the Booksellers and Libraries</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN LONG, LIMITED, LONDON<br /> +Exclusive Publishers of all Mr. Nat Gould's New Novels</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a><i>FILMED</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a><i> DRAMATISED</i></p></div> +<p><span class="ipagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p class="venti">SOME APPRECIATIONS OF MR. NAT GOULD</p> + +<blockquote><p>Among all lovers of sport the name of Nat Gould has become a household +word. As sportsman, journalist, and globe-trotter, few men have gone +through more varied experiences, and still fewer have used their +experience to such excellent purpose. Since Whyte Melville and the +immortal "Jorrocks" no writer has depicted with so spirited a pen the +romance of a racecourse, the surprises of the cricket-pitch, or the +hairbreadth escapes of the hunting-field. Writing in <i>Longman's +Magazine</i>, Mr. Andrew Lang said: "A Sixpenny Academy would be a lively +Academy. For President, I would, if consulted, select Mr. <span class="smcap">Nat Gould</span>, who +shines by a candid simplicity of style, and a direct and unaffected +appeal to the primitive emotions, and our love for that noble animal the +horse."</p> + +<p><i>Nation</i>, 9th August, 1919:—"In the way of sale, his wares surpassed +all others. To millions they were the breath of mental life. We have +heard that a newspaper purchasing the serial rights of one of his +stories could promise itself an increased circulation of 100,000 a day, +no matter what its politics or its principles."</p> + +<p><i>The Times</i>, 26th July, 1917:—"Of Mr. Nat Gould's novels more than +Ten Million<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> copies have been sold; and when this can be said of an +author there must be qualities in his work which appeal to human +nature—qualities, therefore, which even the most superior person would +do well to recognise. 'A Northern Crack' is one of those tales which set +you down in an arm-chair and keep you there till it is pleased to stop."</p> + +<div class="footnotea"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Since this was written ten million more copies have been +sold to December, 1919, totalling over Twenty Millions.</p></div> + +<p><i>The Times</i>, 26th July, 1919:—"If art in any sphere in life finds a +basis in the pleasing of a multitude, then Nat Gould was an artist with +few above his shoulders."</p> + +<p><i>Morning Post</i>, 26th July, 1919:—"He was the most widely read of all +modern story-tellers, and a genius in his downright way."</p> + +<p><i>Athenæum</i>, June 10th, 1911:—"All living writers are headed by Mr. <span class="smcap">Nat +Gould</span>, and of the great of the past, Dumas only surpasses his +popularity."</p> + +<p><i>Truth</i>, January 22nd, 1913:—"Who is the most popular of living +novelists? Mr. <span class="smcap">Nat Gould</span> easily and indisputably takes the first place."</p> + +<p>Miss <span class="smcap">Beatrice Harraden</span>, one of the Honorary Librarians to the Military +Hospital, Endell Street, London, writing in the November, 1916, issue of +the <i>Cornhill Magazine</i>, states: "We had to invest in any amount of <span class="smcap">Nat +Gould</span>'s sporting stories. In fact, a certain type of man would read +nothing except <span class="smcap">Nat Gould</span>. However ill he was, however suffering and +broken, the name of <span class="smcap">Nat Gould</span> would always bring a smile to his face. +Often and often I've heard the whispered words: '<i>A Nat Gould—ready for +when I'm better</i>.'"</p></blockquote> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><br />Transcriber's Notes:</p> + +<p>Punctuation has been normalized.</p> + +<p>Page 10: "more more than" replaced with "more than."</p> + +<p>Page 71: "We'll make things gee" retained as printed.</p> + +<p>Page 136: "too and fro" replaced with "to and fro."</p> + +<p>Page 215: "No doubt it was Leigh who called" retained as printed.</p> + +<p>Page 227: "suprised" replaced with "surprised."</p> + +<p>Page 269: "convalesence" replaced with "convalescence."</p> + +<p> Page 307: "horizontal" retained as printed.</p> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sweep Winner, by Nat Gould + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SWEEP WINNER *** + +***** This file should be named 36480-h.htm or 36480-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/4/8/36480/ + +Produced by paksenarrion, Suzanne Shell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Sweep Winner + +Author: Nat Gould + +Release Date: June 22, 2011 [EBook #36480] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SWEEP WINNER *** + + + + +Produced by paksenarrion, Suzanne Shell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + + + + The Sweep Winner + + + + + The Sweep Winner + + By Nat Gould + + [Illustration] + + London + John Long, Limited + 12, 13 & 14 Norris Street, Haymarket + _All rights reserved_ + + + _Readers are requested to note that all the characters + in this story are purely fictitious, and the names are + not intended to refer to any real person or persons._ + + + + + TO THE MEMORY OF MY SON + CAPTAIN HERBERT R. GOULD, M.C., R.A.F. + FLIGHT COMMANDER, 18TH SQUADRON + _Killed in Action on the Western Front, August, 1918_ + + + + + +Contents + + + _Chapter_ _Page_ + + I. THE GLITTERING WIRE 11 + II. IN THE HUT 21 + III. A STRANGE SITUATION 31 + IV. "IT'S FOR A WOMAN" 41 + V. WHY JIM CAME TO THE HUT 51 + VI. "COME" 61 + VII. THE FACE IN THE WATER 71 + VIII. WAYS AND MEANS 81 + IX. THE CHINAMAN'S SHOP 91 + X. THE ACCUSATION 102 + XI. JERRY, JOURNALIST 113 + XII. IN SEARCH OF HORSES 123 + XIII. LEIGH HEARS STRANGE THINGS 133 + XIV. "A MAGNIFICENT BRUTE" 143 + XV. THE BIG SHOW 153 + XVI. MRS. PREVOST 163 + XVII. JEALOUSY 173 + XVIII. A QUESTION OF JOCKEYS 183 + XIX. MRS. PREVOST'S DILEMMA 194 + XX. THE DRAWER OF BARELLAN 205 + XXI. LAME 215 + XXII. SWEEP MONEY 225 + XXIII. BEATEN 236 + XXIV. AT FLEMINGTON 247 + XXV. HE LOOKED AT HIS TICKET 257 + XXVI. BARELLAN FALLS BACK 268 + XXVII. WHAT A FINISH! 279 + XVIII. A TERRIBLE SAVAGE 288 + XXIX. MAN AND HORSE LAY SIDE BY SIDE 299 + XXX. THE SWEEP WINNER'S HOME 311 + + + + +The Sweep Winner + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE GLITTERING WIRE + + +A man on horseback shaded his eyes with his hands as he looked along the +glittering line of wire which runs for hundreds of miles between New +South Wales and Queensland, and forms the great rabbit-proof fence, of +which he was one of the keepers. + +The blazing sunlight scorched all things living. Not a blade of grass +was to be seen. The baked ground gasped with thirst. The slight breeze +was like the breath from a huge furnace. + +The wire was hot and dazzling. Millions of glimmering specks and +hundreds of thousands of electric sparks danced on it in revelry. Merely +to look at the shimmering wire blinded the eyes. The horse turned his +head away. He was dried, shrivelled, mere skin and bone. Yet he was +strong, enduring, capable of going long journeys; an heroic beast, +fighting a terrific battle against tremendous odds; a faithful +companion, a true friend--always reliable. There was a mute appeal in +his puzzled pathetic eyes, which questioned why such things were; why he +should be rewarded for his efforts with a parched throat, an empty +stomach, and a hot skin. + +The man dismounted, carelessly placing his hand on the wire, then +snatching it back quickly, with a sharp oath. + +"Everything burns in this cursed country," he muttered. + +The horse rubbed his nose against the man's arm. + +"Ping, old fellow, it's hotter than hell. Thirsty? of course; so am I. +We'll have to thirst until we reach the next hole." + +The man was strong, well-built, six feet high; even the hard life had +not sapped his strength. His dark hair, moustache, and beard, gave him +a sombre appearance. His eyes shone fiercely under bushy brows. His +face, hands and arms were tanned a deep brown, as also was his chest, +where the shirt opened from the throat. He was no common man. His speech +was not that of the keepers of the fence, or the bulk of them, for there +were many and strange beings on these hundreds of miles of wire line. +The majority were old boundary riders, stockmen, tank sinkers, fencers, +teamsters. In another class were criminals, convicts and men whose hands +were against their fellows; who were dangerous sometimes, when they +scented betrayal, or suspected they were being tracked. The man looking +at the mirage in the distance belonged to none of these classes; he +stood out alone. They knew it, and gave him a show of respect, when they +met him, which was seldom. + +There must have been some weighty reason for him to bury himself in this +solitude, and to accept an occupation from which any educated man must +shrink. He wanted to be alone. He could not have come to a better +place. Boonara, the nearest bush town, was fifty miles away from where +he stood, and a dozen less from his hut. + +He descended upon Boonara at night, and waited for it to wake up. When +it did, surprise was visible on every face as one by one the inhabitants +looked forth from their habitation. The surprise was genuine. It was +long since a man of this stamp had entered Boonara. He was amused at the +people, and wondered if there was one respectably clean inhabitant. Then +he remembered the scarcity of water and pardoned the dirt. He was not +clean himself, but he felt wholesome. His body had been cared for as +much as possible during the week's tramp. + +He soon became acquainted with the Boonarites. They gathered round him, +and questions were levelled at him. It was quick firing to which he +responded with solitary shots. At the end of the first day the people of +Boonara were not a jot wiser about him. One fact was patent, he had +money. It was difficult to discover how much, but he "shouted" at Bill +Big's "shanty," and paid his footing, and was so far granted the freedom +of Boonara. + +The township of Boonara consisted of one main street, with irregular, +irresponsible-looking houses dotted about, built anyhow. They had been +put up at various times by many different sorts of men. Building +operations commenced at one end and continued at intervals until a sort +of street was formed. The first inhabitant had been a "keeper of the +fence," and he camped there because it was convenient to his work. +Gradually, in oddments, other men came to the place. It was a bachelor +township until some enterprising man, bolder than the rest, and more +saving, ventured to Sydney and returned with a wife. She was the only +woman in the township for a long time, and was regarded with a certain +amount of awe and wonder. The consensus of opinion was that she must +have had a terribly bad time in Sydney, or nothing would have induced +her to marry Jack and come to Boonara. The example set proved catching, +and other members of the bachelor community took unto themselves +partners. The township grew slowly, unlike the centres of big mining +districts which spring up mushroom-like in a night and often die away as +quickly. + +Boonara gathered in many of the keepers of the fence, who had tired of +the life and settled there on a mere pittance. It was not a prosperous +community; there was little conversation, and a lot of grumbling. Each +man regarded his neighbour with suspicion, not knowing who he was, +except by name, nor whence he came. All around Boonara was an arid +waste, except at certain seasons, few and far between, when rain came +sweeping in a deluge over the parched earth, filling up the gaping +cracks and crevices, hissing and swishing over the land, bringing life, +in every drop a new birth. Then the plains woke up. Miles upon miles of +dull-brown crumbling grassless spaces became green and refreshing. +Strange sights followed these deluges. In a mysterious manner sheep +appeared in thousands wandering across the plains, nibbling this +wonderful and succulent food from which they had been so long debarred. +Cattle came, mobs of horses, all branded, belonging to squatters miles +away. Nobody seemed to own the land round Boonara. At least no member of +the township had ever heard the name of an owner mentioned. They ran +what cattle, horses and sheep they possessed anywhere on it. There were +no enclosures, no square-mile paddocks. The only fence was the +glittering wire running along the border. + +There were very few men in the township who had seen the wire fence. But +they met the keepers of it at long intervals when they paid visits to +Bill's shanty. + +In all communities, however small, there is a fierce desire to look down +upon someone, to imagine a superiority. It is a trait which is +laughable, and sometimes pathetic. Although the Boonarites were far from +civilisation they had their pride, and regarded the keepers of the fence +as beings of an inferior order. As the keepers had no respect for the +inhabitants, everybody seemed satisfied with the state of affairs. + +There was one keeper of the fence whom the Boonarites placed upon an +equality with themselves, and that was the man who came upon them in the +night. + +They were amazed when he went on the glittering wire track. He was far +too good for that job; "he wouldn't stick it long" they declared. He did +"stick it," however, to their great surprise. The man was a mystery to +them, which is not to be wondered at, considering he was mostly a puzzle +to himself. His hut was forty miles away, and only three people had +visited him there. He did not encourage them. Loneliness sat lightly +upon him, so it seemed. Bill Bigs was the most frequent visitor, and +when he rode there, or drove in his buggy, it was seldom empty-handed. +Somewhere, hidden in the bowels of the earth beneath Bill's shanty, +there was mysteriously reported to be spirituous hoards of excellent +quality; these rarely saw the light of day in Boonara. Various +decoctions were served out over the bar, and there was a strange +resemblance in the flavour, no matter from which bottle they were +taken. A "nip" from one of Bill's underground bottles was like nectar +from the gods. + +The man on the fence was never served with inferior stuff, and when Bill +visited him he took with him of his best. + +Bill Bigs was rough and ready. Rumour credited him with having been in +league with bushrangers, before those undesirable and romantic figures +disappeared from the earth. Probably this was true, but Ben was no +longer an illegitimate preyer upon mankind. He was licensed to "rob" by +doctoring his goods. He prided himself on knowing a man when he saw one, +and he put down the occupier of the hut in this category. He, however, +knew nothing about his friend, except that he was worth a dozen ordinary +fence keepers. The man never spoke of his past, or explained why he was +in the most solitary place in this vast land. In vain Bill tried to +induce him to talk. There was a threatening glitter in his eyes which +caused Bill to halt and get on to another track. It was this man, the +keeper of the fence, who stood under the blazing sun pitying his horse +more than himself. He was waiting for another keeper at the point where +they had met, and had a few words and parted. He shaded his eyes again, +but saw no one coming. + +"I'll wait, I'm always waiting. It hasn't worn me out; it never will. +There's a fire within that keeps me alive; it burns, but never dies +down. There's enough fuel in my thoughts to keep it glowing until my +light goes out." + + + + +CHAPTER II + +IN THE HUT + + +Glen Leigh was his name. At least he was down as such on the books, but +names were not of much account on his job; they might as well have been +numbers seeing they were mere indications of identity. He waited until +he was tired, although he had much patience. His throat was parched; his +skin burned; there was no shade. On his head, straight down, poured the +fierce sun. To look at it was blinding. It seared the eyes; sparks +danced when they turned to the earth again. He had no watch. In his hut +there was one, but he seldom wound it. He told the time by nature's +signs, and was never far out in his calculations. + +"I've waited an hour. Damn the fellow. Why doesn't he come? He expects +me to do his work and my own too." He shrugged his shoulders. Jim Benny +was a mere lad compared with him. + +"Poor young devil. What's he done that he should come to this? The sins +of the father, and so on." + +A shadow flitted across the ground. He started. This was not a land of +shadows, except when rain clouds swept away the dazzling blue. He looked +around, then above. There was a small black cloud floating in the +brilliant sky; it looked like a balloon. + +"Rain!" he exclaimed. "By all that's holy, rain." + +There was a power of feeling in the word. + +"Rain." + +In lands where skies are dull, where moisture hangs in the air, where a +downpour spoils pleasure and provokes temper, the word rain has a very +different meaning. To Glen Leigh rain meant almost everything. There had +been none for over nine months, not a drop, and that small balloon-like +cloud that cast its shadows and startled him, was more welcome than a +shower of gold. + +"It's curious," he muttered, "I've never seen it exactly like this. But +it must mean rain. God send it. We want it, we dried up sapless things. +Rain, Ping. Do you hear, old parchment, rain. And your coat'll be +dripping wet. There'll be grass, and you'll feel juice in your mouth +instead of dried leaves and twigs. Rain, Ping, rain!" + +He gave the horse a sound smack, jerked up his head, and pointed to the +cloud rolling above. + +A slight breeze came. Ping sniffed, inhaling it with delight, while an +anxious look of anticipation came into his eyes. + +Glen watched the cloud as though his life depended on it, as thousands +of lives did. It was a peculiar phenomenon, a black patch steering +through a sea of blue. In its wake it left a trail, dull, streaking out, +and beyond the trail were more heavy clouds on the rain path. This +leader was the herald of the storm. + +There was no moan, there was nothing to cause it, but presently the wire +fence seemed to buzz, and the rising wind came through it playing on +the strings a sort of sad harmony, but sweet music in the ears of the +man and horse. + +A low rumbling sound proclaimed the advance of the clouds, and they +rolled along in battalions blotting out the sunlight; the relief to the +eyes was immense. He waited, but Jim Benny did not come. He almost +forgot about him in his anxiety over the approaching rain. + +A crack straight above his head, which echoed over the plain, was +followed by a burst of water which deluged him and Ping in a few +minutes. Both gasped with relief. They opened their mouths, and the +refreshing water cooled them; they had not had such a soaking for +months. The land responded to the rain. He fancied he saw the blades of +grass already shooting; he knew they would be there in a matter of +twenty-four hours. He mounted Ping and rode to his hut. It was no use +waiting any longer for Jim Benny; he would see him next day. Still he +wondered what had come to him, and felt a bit uneasy. He liked Jim, +although he seldom spoke more than a few words to him. Perhaps it was +the mystery surrounding him which appealed to him; he was a mysterious +man himself. + +The rain poured down as he rode along. Ping's ambling pace soon covered +the ground, and he reached his hut in a shorter time than usual. + +The door was wide open. Someone had been there in his absence. He +smiled; the intruder would not have had a very rich find. A few of his +provisions might be gone; the poor devil was welcome to that. + +He was always cautious, for he was accustomed to face danger. There was +no telling what sort of desperate, hunted character had found his way +there, so he handled his revolver as he went in. Lying on his bunk he +saw a bundle of clothes, or what looked like it. Quietly he stepped up, +then started back in amazement. It was no sundowner, not even a man from +Boonara, out on the jag, who had wandered in a half-frenzied condition +so many miles. What he saw was a woman, a young, pretty woman, whose +face was lined with sorrow, whose cheeks were sunken. The hands were +hanging down, thin, almost emaciated, showing the veins, a dull blue. +One leg drooped down the side. The boot was worn, and torn. The dress +over it was ragged. Her whole appearance denoted the utmost distress, +hardship, exhaustion. She hardly breathed, although he saw her bosom +slightly heave and fall. She was in a pitiable plight indeed. + +Glen Leigh was so wonder-struck at this strange sight that he stood +staring at her for some time, until Ping roused him by poking his head +in at the door, asking in his dumb way for food. Even the woman, lying +so strangely there, did not cause him to delay. Ping was a good comrade; +he must be attended to. He went round to the back of the hut, where +there was a lean-to shed, and Ping followed him. There was a little +precious hay still left, which he had secured for the horse at Boonara +at a fabulous price, panning out, if reckoned up, at about a hundred +pounds a ton. It had been brought down the river on one of the puffing, +snorting, little steamers, and deposited at the small staging, to be +left till called for, and fetched by Bill Bigs at his leisure. Ping +sniffed this small portion of evil-smelling stuff with satisfaction. He +had never known better fare, for he had been bred in the wilds, and +brought up anyhow, on anything. His dam had very little milk for him; +she had nothing to make it with. When his dam deserted him, or he left +her to go on his own, he wandered about, living precariously until he +was six years old. Then some master on two legs caught him, and Ping +began to learn the effects of contact with humanity. Ping's life had not +been a happy one until he passed into Glen Leigh's hands. With the +wisdom of the horse he discovered the great change in ownership, and +wondered at it. He followed Leigh about like a dog; there was no +bucking, biting, squealing, kicking against the pricks. He settled down +to a humdrum existence with a feeling of glorious content. + +As Glen Leigh stood for a few moments eyeing Ping he compared him with +the woman lying in his hut. There was a similarity between their lives. +Both had been ill-used, and both came into his possession. Into his +possession? What on earth was he to do with the woman? Ping was all +right. He had bought him for a trifle. But the woman. It was quite a +different thing. She was in his hut, and part of his household for the +night. What must he do with her? + +"Eat your supper, Ping. I'll go and see to the other one," he said, and +went back to his "front door." + +He entered softly. She was still sleeping. He sat down on a log and +watched her. + +How had she come there? She must have tramped miles. From Boonara of +course, but he did not remember seeing her there. He smiled at the +thought. He seldom gave more than a passing glance to people in the +township. He was hardly likely to have noticed her sufficiently to +recognise her now. If she came from Boonara, why had she left the place +and wandered all these miles? Was it by chance she had struck his hut? +Of course, it must have been. No doubt she saw the rainstorm coming, and +seeing the hut at the same time hurried in for shelter. + +She was not an ordinary working-woman, he saw that, and cudgelled his +brains to find out how she came into the country at all. + +She must belong to somebody, but to whom? + +He knew of women who had lost their reason in solitudes, and had not +wondered at it. The country was only fit for blacks, and even they +shunned it, the few of them that were left after the white man's march. +Had she come along with some squatter, when he had been making a visit +to Bathurst, or Bourke, or even Sydney or Melbourne? That was a possible +solution, but highly improbable. There was only one large station near +enough to this place, from which she could have tramped. Its owner was +Craig Bellshaw, of Mintaro Station, and he was not the sort of man to +drive a woman away by ill-treatment, quite the contrary. + +She stirred. He listened. She was muttering, but he could not catch the +words. He got up and leaned over her. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +A STRANGE SITUATION + + +He could make nothing of what she said. It was a jumble of incoherent +sounds, with no meaning in them. He gathered no information as to how +she came there. + +"She's ill--delirious. What can I do for her?" he muttered. + +He was a soft-hearted man, where women were concerned, and distress, +although he had seen much of it, appealed to him. There were no doctors, +not even in Boonara. When folks were ill in those parts they had to +fight for life as best they could, with a few patent remedies to aid +them. + +"Fever," he said, "there's no doubt about it, and she has no strength to +withstand it. I can't leave her alone. I wish to heaven Bigs, or +someone, would come." + +He sat by her all night; sometimes he had to hold her down, as she +struggled like a bird in his strong grasp. He was very gentle with her. +Not one man in a hundred would have credited him with such tenderness. +When daylight sprang out suddenly, as it does in these climes, she +became quieter. He put his hand on her breast, humming softly. The touch +and the sound soothed her. With wonderful patience he remained in this +position hour after hour, proving himself a great man, greater than he +ever thought or reckoned himself to be. He was hungry, but he did not +move. Ping came to the door and wondered why his wants were left +unattended. It was unusual. He would have resented it had not the +downpour brought up small shoots of green, with marvellous suddenness. +He turned away and went nibbling the unaccustomed luxuries. Ping came to +the door instinctively. Grass was a thing he had not seen for months. He +didn't expect to find it, but as he sniffed its freshness he left the +hut contentedly, and Leigh was glad. + +"He smells the grass," he thought, "There's more chance of her pulling +through now it's cooler." He mixed up the horse and the woman in his +thoughts continually. How long he sat there he did not know, but a sound +reached him which gave warning that something or someone was +approaching. Ping neighed. He knew if it was a rider he would call at +his hut. They always paid "ceremonial" visits; it was an event in their +lives. A sound of hoofs reached him. It was very welcome; he gave a sigh +of relief. He looked round, and saw a horse and rider pull up at his +door. It was Jim Benny. At any other time Benny would have been cursed +roundly for neglecting his work. Curses were the habitual mode of +forcibly expressing disapproval by the men of the fence. But never was +man more heartily welcome. Glen Leigh didn't even give a thought as to +why Jim Benny came to his hut. It was an uncommon occurrence but he had +no time to consider it. + +Jim grinned as he put his head in at the door. He was about to speak +when he grasped the situation, as far as it was possible for him to so +do, lacking all knowledge of the facts. + +He was much surprised, as Glen Leigh had been, when he found the woman +in his hut. + +"Hush," said Glen softly, and Jim crept in on tiptoe. + +He stood looking at the woman. His thoughts were much the same as +Glen's. The white wan face struck a chord in Jim Benny's nature that had +not twanged before. His eyes glistened, then moisture gathered. +Presently a couple of drops trickled down his sunburnt face. He put a +hand on Glen's shoulder, bent down, and whispered, "How did she come +here?" + +Glen shook his head. + +"She's bad?" + +"Fever." + +"Poor little thing," said Jim. + +Glen lifted his hand from her bosom. She only stirred slightly, then +with a sigh became still again. He beckoned Jim to follow him outside. +They walked a few yards away, so that the sound of their voices would +not disturb her. + +"Where the devil were you yesterday?" was Glen's question. + +"My horse broke down. I had to bag another, and a pretty brute he is. +Look at him," replied Jim pointing to the wretched mass of skin and +bone. + +"Why have you come here?" asked Glen. + +"I thought I'd ride over and explain. I know what you are when you're in +a temper," replied Jim. + +"That's not the reason." + +"Perhaps it isn't. Anyhow, what about her?" and he pointed to the hut. + +"Somebody must go to Billy's and get some good brandy for her. It's got +to be the best--none of his poison," said Glen. + +"In that case you'd better go. It's no good me trying it. He'd think I +was lying, and there'd be no getting it out of him. I'll stay with her +if you go. Besides my horse is no good. Ping will do the journey in half +the time," Jim answered. + +Glen looked at him. Jim's face did not move a muscle. + +"It's lucky you came," Glen remarked. "Tell me what brought you here." + +"Another time," replied Jim hesitatingly. + +Glen shrugged his shoulders. + +"As you please," he said. + +"How did she get here?" asked Jim. + +Glen told him how he found her, and Jim Benny was as helpless as himself +in solving the problem. + +"It's very strange," said Jim. "We've never seen a woman round here +before. What are you going to do with her?" + +"Keep her until she's pulled round. Then I can find out all about her," +returned Glen. + +A faint cry came from the hut which caused them to turn round quickly +and run back. A strange, weird sight met their eyes. The woman was +standing close to the bed. Her hair was down. They noticed it was a +beautiful nut-brown, and there was plenty of it. Her arms were stretched +out. Her eyes stared glassily. As Glen came in she tottered forward, and +he caught her in his arms. + +A thrill went through him as he clasped her. Her face was close to his. +He felt her breath on his cheek. He drew her tightly towards him, and +held her for several minutes. Jim Benny watched him with a queer light +in his eyes. + +Glen carried her, laying her on his rough bed. She was exhausted with +the exertion and remained quite still. + +"You'd better go at once," said Jim, "she's bad, very bad." + +Glen stood thinking for a few minutes, then asked, "You'll not leave her +while I'm gone?" + +"No, I'll sit by her as I found you sitting. See?" and he sat on the +log, placing his hand on her breast. "That'll soothe her." + +Without another word Glen Leigh left the hut. + +He whistled Ping, and obediently the horse came to his call. Glen +saddled him, and rode off towards Boonara. Jim Benny sat looking at the +woman. He heard the hoof beats gradually dying away, then with a sudden +movement got up and kissed her on the lips. She moaned. + +"I couldn't help it. I meant no harm. She reminded me of--never mind +names. I loved her, and she married him--that's all done with." + +He remained quite still until Spotty, Glen's dog, half dingo, came +sniffing round. He had been on the prowl for a day or so, and returned +repentant. The predatory instinct was uppermost, which was not to be +wondered at considering the wild stock from which he descended, and he +made excursions to some land of which his master knew nothing. + +The dog knew Jim, on the fence, but had not seen him in Glen's hut. Then +there was the woman. Spotty had never come across one. Jim knew the +nature of these dogs, their faithful savageness, and scented danger in +the air. He had seen the dog on the fence with Glen, but had always been +on horseback, and Spotty had never really scented him. He didn't even +know the dog's name. + +Spotty eyed Jim, then looked at the woman on the bed. Here was something +he did not understand. He came forward, crouching, like a panther ready +to spring, and Jim set him with his eyes, not daring to move, on her +account. + +Spotty sniffed at her dress, turned round, faced Jim and growled, a low +rumbling sound. Then he lay on the floor, paws outstretched, head erect, +watching. + +Jim knew if he moved the dog would probably fly at his throat. It would +be hours before Leigh returned, and he must remain in this position the +whole time, on her account. Had he been alone he could have cowed +Spotty, or attempted it. He heard distant thunder. There was another +storm brewing, the promise of more welcome rain. The lightning flashed +through the hut, playing in and out at the doors. The crashing sounds +came nearer; then the rain burst in torrents. + +Spotty did not move. He remained with his eyes on Jim, not even giving a +glance at the figure on the bed. The woman slept through it all. Jim +wondered at her strange stillness. Was she dead? + +The thought made him start. He had not put his hand on her again after +he kissed her, and could not feel or hear her breath. Spotty saw him +move, and growled. He seemed about to spring, then crouched again. + +It was a strange situation--the man, the woman, and the dog, in the hut, +the storm raging outside, and Glen Leigh riding on his mission to +Boonara. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +"IT'S FOR A WOMAN" + + +"Hello, what brings you here?" said Bill Bigs, as Glen Leigh entered his +house. The tone was not encouraging. Bill was in an ill-humour, and it +was not difficult to discover the cause. The bar was in a state of wild +confusion. Broken bottles, bits of wood, splinters from the rough +furniture, and jagged pieces of glass lay about. There was every sign of +a fight. + +Glen took it all in at a glance. Although he was in a desperate hurry he +knew the best way to succeed would be by humouring him. + +"Bit of a skirmish, eh?" began Glen. + +"Two of your fence fellows began it. I never saw such beasts in my life. +They all are." + +Glen's eyes glittered. + +"Does that include me?" he asked. + +"No. I can't say it does, but there's no telling what may happen. +You'll break out some day. Flesh and blood can't stand your job," +replied Bill. + +Here was an opening. Glen was holding himself in leash wonderfully well. +All the time he was thinking, "What's she doing? What's he doing?" + +He wanted to hurry back. Ping would have to hustle when he made a start. + +"You're right," he agreed, "if it wasn't for a nip of your good stuff +now and again, Bill, I'd go under." + +"I see. So that's what you're here for. Well, I can't gratify you this +time. I've run out." + +Bill was husbanding his resources; it was his habit. Glen knew there was +a tough job before him. + +"I must have some of the best, Bill, I'm run down," persisted Glen. + +Bill laughed. + +"Must have it? I like that. Look around. Do you think I'm going to stand +that sort of thing from your fellows without paying somebody out? As +you happen to have come along first I'll pay you out. You'll get nothing +from me to-day." + +"I must have it, Bill. I'll pay double price for it." + +"When?" + +"In a month. I can't do it now." + +"A month! Six months you mean, and then it's uncertain." + +"Not with me." + +"I'll not deny you're a good payer, and straight, but you've got to +suffer for the sins of others. You're one of 'em," returned Bill. + +Glen Leigh leaned over the counter, his face close to Bill's. + +"If you knew what I wanted it for you'd give it me without payment," he +said. + +Bill looked hard at him. Glen's face was quivering. His mouth twitched. +His eyes glared. He was thinking of the woman. How should he get the +brandy if Bill persisted in refusing, for he meant having it at any +cost? + +"What's it for?" + +"I can't tell you. I will before long, but not now." + +"Then it's a fake. You want it for yourself." + +"I do not." + +He fancied he could hear her moaning, becoming restless, and if he got +what he wanted and hurried back she might have a chance. It exasperated +him. + +"Why not tell me the reason?" asked Bill, fairly enough. + +"There's somebody ill in my hut." + +"Oh, that's it, one of your mates. Do you think I'm going to help him +after last night's work? Not me." + +Glen wanted to conceal that it was a woman, but he was wasting precious +time. Could Bill be trusted to keep it to himself? He had no desire for +the township to know until he had found out all about her. + +"It's not one of my mates. I'd not ask it for him after that," and he +waved his hand round. "You'll not say a word, but keep it dark?" + +"It depends on what it is you tell me." + +"I can't tell you. Bill, we've been what folks call friends, as far as +it goes here. Promise me. It's a matter of life and death. You'll not +be sorry. You'll have done a good action, and saved a life." + +Bill saw he was in deadly earnest. He knew Glen Leigh had always gone +straight with him. + +"Out with it then. I'll promise, so help me I will, but I don't say I'll +let you have what you want." + +Glen saw he was yielding. Again his thoughts went back to his hut, and +he groaned at the loss of time. + +"It's for a woman. She's got fever, and is delirious. She'll die if she +doesn't have some stimulant. For God's sake, Bill, let me have it." + +Bill stared at him. There was a genuine, even pathetic ring in his +voice. But a woman! He couldn't be expected to swallow that yarn. + +"Where is she?" he asked. + +"In my hut." + +Bill laughed. He couldn't help it. The thing was so ridiculous. + +"Who's the lady?" he asked with a grin. + +Leigh's hands clenched. He was becoming dangerous. + +"I haven't time to tell you lies. I don't know who she is, or where she +comes from. All I can say is I found her in there lying on my shakedown, +dying," and he told the whole story as rapidly as possible to the +astonished Bill. + +"It's as true as gospel, and Jim Benny's with her waiting my return. +Think of the time I've wasted here. I may be too late. Ping's none too +fast, but he's sure. For heaven's sake, Bill, let me have it, and some +tinned stuff, soup, anything you've got. There's nothing at my place for +her." + +He spoke rapidly, excitedly. He was strung to the highest pitch as he +thought how long he had already been away. + +"It's the rummiest yarn I ever heard, but I don't see as how you could +make it up. I wonder who she is?" + +"That's what I've got to find out. If she dies, her secret goes with +her. Help to save her, then we'll get to know," begged Glen. + +Bill thought of his girl at work in Adelaide. Supposing she was in such +a plight? The mere idea made him shiver. + +"I'll do it, Glen. Damn it, man, if you'd outed with it at first the +thing would have been settled in five minutes." + +He disappeared. Glen knew if he had fired the story at him straight away +it would not have been believed at all. Bill also knew it as he dived +into the bowels of the earth beneath his bar. + +"He's worked me cleverly," he muttered. "He saw I was cut up rough when +he came in, and he handled me well. It's a queer go, a very queer go, +but I believe him. He's not given to lying, and in any case I can go and +see for myself in a day or two. If he's put up a game on me, I'll--No, +he'd never do it. He's too much of a man. And his face! It might be his +sweetheart the way he looked." + +Bill was rummaging about. Selecting two bottles he took them with him. +As he went back through his storeroom, he collected some tinned milk, +soup, and biscuits. + +He packed them all carefully so that there would be no risk of breakage, +then went back to the bar. + +Two men had come in during his absence. One was "on the fence," and as +usual they had selected a bottle of alleged whisky, and were helping +themselves. Glen had refused to join them. He was called a sullen +bounder. + +"Get out of this," yelled Bill when he saw the rider on the fence. +"You're one of the devils who caused all this mess." + +"I'll pay for it--at least my share," answered the man. + +"Then out with it," said Bill, putting his package down. + +Glen eyed it greedily. He ought to have had it an hour ago and been well +on his way back to the hut. Here was more delay. Would she be alive? +Would she be alive? Was Jim with her? Yes, he'd wait. He was sure of it. + +The man pulled out some greasy pound-notes and handed Bill a couple. + +"That's more'n my whack. It'll have to stand good for this," and he +placed his hand on the bottle. + +"And mind, if I see any signs of strife brewing you'll not get away so +easily next time," warned Bill, as he stuffed the dirty notes in his +pocket, only too glad to get anything in payment for the damage. + +He beckoned to Glen, picked up the package and went outside. + +"You'll find all you want here; at least as much as I can give you." + +"I'll never forget it, Bill. One of these days I may be able to do you a +good turn. I'll see you are paid in full, and more." + +"Never mind about that. It's something to my credit that I've faith +enough in a man to believe such a dodgasted yarn as you've spun me." + +"You do believe it?" + +"Yes. Shake. You'll not mind me driving over? I'll not come +empty-handed, and not to act the spy, but it's such a stretcher that I'd +just like to see for myself." + +Glen smiled as he mounted Ping, and Bill handed him the parcel. + +"I can't wonder at it. I can hardly believe it myself. Come and see. +You'll be welcome. You always are, but not a word to a soul." + +"I'll keep it dark, you bet. I'm with you in finding out all about her. +It'll be a bit of a change from that filthy work," and he jerked his +thumb in the direction of the bar. + +As Glen was riding away, the man who had paid Bill the two notes rushed +out and yelled, "Expect you've not heard that Joe Calder's been found +shot dead on his track!" + + + + +CHAPTER V + +WHY JIM CAME TO THE HUT + + +Joe Calder shot dead on his track! + +Glen had no time to waste or he would have gone back to hear more. He +must hurry on. Ping felt there was need for haste. His master seldom +pushed him as he was doing now. + +Joe Calder done for at last! Glen had warned him it would come some day, +for the man was a brute. He had no human feeling, and how he earned +promotion over his fellows was one of those things no man could +understand. + +Glen was overseer on his track, as Joe Calder was on the other, and the +two men often met, but they were as wide apart as the poles in every +respect. + +Calder was a sneak. The men under him hated him. More than one +threatened to do for him, but he was a big powerful man, and dangerous. +He was one of the worst characters, and when he went to Boonara even +Bill Bigs fought shy of him. There was no doubt he was a criminal. His +face, his shifty eyes, the backward glances, his fear of being followed +and tracked down betrayed it. But he must have had a friend somewhere, +or he would never have got his post. + +Glen was surprised, and yet he was not. The news was shot at him +unexpectedly, but he believed it, and wondered who had rid the world of +a scoundrel, and the track of a desperate man. Ping travelled well, his +head bound for home, such as it was, and every horse knows the way to +his stable. Mile after mile was traversed, until Glen saw a faint speck +in the distance and knew it was his hut. A townsman would have seen +nothing, but Glen's eyes were used to looking long distances, and were +almost as powerful as a glass in distinguishing objects. + +"Go on, Ping. We'll soon be there," and the horse put on another spurt. + +The tension in the hut was not relaxed for a moment. Hour after hour +passed, and still the dog stood on guard and eyed Jim. If the man moved +there came an ominous growl. + +Two or three times the woman groaned, and Spotty pricked his ears +wonderingly. Such sounds were unfamiliar. Jim watched him. The dog +seemed half inclined to spring on the bed. Thinking better of it he +settled down again with his eyes fixed as before. + +A drowsy feeling crept over Jim. He was fearful of going to sleep. He +had been sitting like a statue for the Lord knows how long and he had no +idea of the time. + +He listened. Not a sound, except a few melancholy notes from a passing +bird. What was Glen doing all this time? He had promised to watch, but +Glen had not promised to come back. Jim's mind was in a chaotic state, +and he was hardly responsible for it. + +Spotty pricked his ears. Jim accepted this as a sign that he heard +something, and listened intently. + +The dog gave a short, sharp bark, a true signal this time. + +In his great sense of relief Jim stood up. He could bear the strain no +longer. + +Spotty flew at him, straight at his throat. Jim caught him with both +hands and held him, the dog growling, snarling, trying to wrench himself +free to bite his hands. Jim held on. He heard the hoof-beats. It was +Glen returning and all would be well, but he was tired and cramped with +the strain, and Spotty was a ferocious dog, and strong. + +The woman moved and half sat up; then she sank back again. He was +thankful. + +Ping halted. Glen got out of the saddle with the precious burden and +strode into the hut. Unstrung as he was, the sight that met his gaze +caused him to drop the package. With a cry of despair he caught at it, +just breaking its fall. + +Spotty, seeing his master, ceased struggling. Jim let go his hold and +fell on the floor in a dead faint. + +"Get out," almost yelled Glen, and the dog shot through the opening like +a fox bolting from hounds, dashing under Ping's belly and scouring +across country at top speed. Yet he had only guarded his master's hut, +and his doggy brain resented the injustice. + +Glen opened the package before attending to Jim. There was no damage +done, and he had never felt so like offering up a prayer +before--supposing, after all, he had gone through, the precious bottles +had broken? He knelt down beside Jim, summing up the situation, and +wondering how long he had been subjected to the strain caused by the +dog. Opening one of the bottles, he poured a small quantity down Jim's +throat, being careful not to spill a drop. + +Presently Jim sat up, looked round in a dazed way, and then seeing Glen +said, "It was a near go. The dog watched me for hours. I dared not move +for fear he would savage me or her, but when I heard you coming I could +stand it no longer. I got up, and he flew at me. She's been like that +ever since you left. What have you brought?" + +"Many things, but I'd a job to work round Bill. There'd been a row in +his shanty. Two of your fellows smashed things up, and he was in a +towering rage. Fetch some water. It's funny we can get it nice, cool, +clean and fresh. We haven't done that for months, have we?" + +As he spoke he was busy with the package placing the things carefully on +the floor. Bill had made amends after all, and opened his heart. He was +a dashed good sort, and should be repaid. + +Jim staggered out for the water. The tank was overflowing into sundry +water-catchers. It was far too precious to waste, although many times +the quantity would have been used to wash up after a single meal in a +big hotel. + +Glen made the mixture weak, then, taking a bit of rag, he moistened her +lips with it, squeezing a little into her mouth. + +He was glad she was alive. A tremendous sense of relief came over him, +and with it relaxation from the strain he too had gone through. He could +have lain down on the floor and slept for many hours. + +"Get some rest, Jim. You need it," he said. + + +"Not so much as you." + +"Yes, your struggle was greater than mine. Sleep, man; then you can +watch when I give up." + +Jim lay down. He was in a dead slumber in a minute or two. + +Glen sat looking at the woman. A slight colour came into her cheeks, her +lips were not so blue, a warmth spread over her body; he could feel it +as he touched her bare arm. Then a curious thing happened. He bent down +and kissed her, not like Jim Benny, on the lips, but on her forehead, +reverently, tenderly, like a father would a child--and he was the most +reckless rider on the fence. Both men were among the legion of the lost, +why was only known to themselves, but they had given this woman what +many a one of her sex in a great city would have been thankful +for--human kindness. + +"Sleep's best for her," he thought, as he moistened her lips again. +"She's been hot and cold, but there's a nice glow on her now. It's +healthy. She'll pull through. I'll bet she pulls through, and we'll +have done it, Jim, and I, and Bill. He's had a big share in it. I should +say the three of us will be able to look after her and find out all +about her." + +Jim had his rest. Glen roused him when he found sleep would overcome him +whether he willed it or no. + +"Wet her lips with it when they're dry. Place your finger on and feel." + +Jim nodded. He thought how he had placed his lips to hers when Glen was +away. He was ashamed of it; somehow he thought he ought to tell him. +He'd think it over while he slept. + +In the midst of nature's great silent solitudes these three were working +out their fate. It was so still that to most people the silence would +have been worse than the noise and rush of traffic. Outside, Ping, +neglected after his long journey, unsaddled, was finding refreshment. +The horse was weary, leg tired, but his heart was in the right place. He +was the sort that never gives in until something snaps. + +Spotty called a halt when he had gone a couple of miles, and considered +the question of the unjustness of his master. He must have arrived at +some conclusion for he retraced his steps slowly. Near the hut he +encountered Ping, so nosed round him as though apologising for the +sudden bolt under him. Ping and Spotty were chums. They were both +mongrels, but there is often a lot of good to be found in such animals. +Eventually when Ping lay down Spotty curled up close to his back; the +silence was unbroken. + +When Glen awoke he saw at a glance the woman was coming round. She began +to mutter. They listened but could make out no words. + +"She's pulling through. I reckon she'll mend now. We've all of us got to +get her round." + +"All of us?" + +"Yes, you and Bill and me." + +"And what about the fence?" asked Jim. + +"Damn the fence," answered Glen fiercely, "I've done with it." + +"Then so have I," echoed Jim almost gladly. + +"Good boy. It's a cursed job. Keepers of the fence. I tell you, Jim, +it's slow murder. I'd as lief have solitary confinement." + +"I guess we'd get better tucker in prison," said Jim. + +The word murder recalled to Glen's mind the death of Calder. + +"Jim!" + +"Well?" + +"Joe Calder's been shot dead on the track." + +"Serves the brute right," replied Jim in a hard voice. + +"You haven't told me yet what brought you here," said Glen looking at +him. + +"That was it." + +"What?" + +"The Calder business." + +"You--?" + +Jim nodded. + +"I shot him." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +"COME" + + +Glen asked no questions. If Jim Benny had shot Calder he must have had +good reason for it. He waited to hear if he would say more. + +"Do you want to know why?" asked Jim. + +"Please yourself." + +Jim pulled off his shirt, or tried to. It stuck. + +"The water," he said faintly. + +Glen gave him a damp cloth. Jim bathed the shirt, near his breast. For +the first time Glen noticed a deep red mark. + +"That's better," said Jim, as he felt the shirt give, and pulled it off. +Then he went on, "He did that with his knife, and I shot him." + +"It served him right," returned Glen. + +"We quarrelled, not for the first time. He said brutal things to me, +and called me names no man would stand, so I struck him between the +eyes. He whipped out his knife, and I had it before I could think. I +pulled my revolver from my belt, and shot him through the heart. He fell +like a log. I left him there. I never even looked at him, but came on +here." + +"Why did you come here?" + +"Because I thought I could depend upon you, and you would give me good +advice. I didn't tell you at first, because of her. One thing at a +time's enough." + +"You can depend upon me. I'll help you if there's trouble, but no one +knows you shot him, and there'll not be much fuss made over him," +declared Glen. + +The woman opened her eyes, and looked at them. Then a faint smile spread +over her face. + +"Are you better?" asked Glen. + +No answer. + +"Do you feel stronger, my lass?" + +She pressed her hand over her forehead feebly, and a vacant look came +into her eyes. + +"She's weak. She's had no food. Warm some of that milk, Jim." + +When it was ready Glen gave it to her with a spoon. She took it +greedily. In a few minutes she dozed again. + +"Her head's sure to be bad for a time," said Glen. + +There was a brief silence, then Jim said, "While you were away I did +something." + +"What?" + +"I kissed her on the lips. I couldn't help it. Something prompted me." + +Glen started. For a moment he felt angry, then muttered, "When you were +outside I kissed her on the forehead." + +These kisses were characteristic of the men and showed the difference +between them. + +They said no more about it. Both thought it strange, and the subject +dropped. + +The woman progressed slowly but surely. As she recovered some strength +they found her memory had gone; she did not know her name, or where she +came from. She appeared to imagine she had been there all her life. + +Bill Bigs arrived in his buggy, and did not come empty-handed; there was +an ample supply stowed away in the back. + +"That's her, eh?" he asked. + +"Yes. Do you believe me now?" replied Glen smiling. + +"I believed you before, but I wanted to see her. I say, Glen, she'll be +a grand-looking woman when she's picked up and filled out a bit. Where +the deuce did she come from? It's miles away from everywhere here," said +Bill. + +"It'll be hard to find out. She's lost her memory; she fancies she's +been here all her days, but she's sane enough. She'll talk all right in +a bit," replied Glen. + +"Jim Benny!" exclaimed Bill. + +"He's been here ever since she came. It was funny he should turn up +almost at the same time." + +Jim came into the hut and greeted Bill. + +"I never expected to see you here," exclaimed the latter. + +"He came to consult me. We're going to throw it up," Glen told him. + +"Throw what up?" + +"The fence. We've done with it; we're sick of the whole thing. It's too +much for flesh and blood to stand." + +Bill stared. + +"Going!" he cried. "Why you're the best man on the job." + +"Am I?" answered Glen. "I'm glad to hear someone has a good opinion of +me." + +"I always had," pursued Bill. "I'm not surprised. I've often wondered +why you came. I remember the first time I saw you in Boonara. I thought +you'd dropped from the clouds. Have you sent in your resignation?" + +"No. What does it matter. Let 'em find out. You can drop a line to the +overseer when we're gone." + +"And the fence?" asked Bill "We don't want those cursed rabbits to get +through to our side." + +"There are plenty to look after it; men are always disappearing. There +are good and bad among us. Some fellows are there fighting down the +drink curse. I don't blame 'em; it's their only chance. I know two of +'em, good men in their way, but I can tell how it would be with them if +they went back to a town life. They'd go under quick. I've been in many +a jag myself, but that's not why I came out. I can stifle it; it's only +a matter of will," declared Glen. + +"I don't know so much about that. I've had a lot of experience in that +line. Some of the poor beggars can't help themselves," said Bill, and +then added, "They've buried Calder. There'll be no inquiry. Most people +think he shot himself. Anyhow we've shovelled him away in Boonara. If +any trouble is made they can dig him up again and call him as witness. +He's the only one who could give evidence. All your fellows are glad +he's gone." + +Jim listened in silence, with a feeling of relief; he did not in the +least regret what he had done. He regarded it as a righteous act. + +The woman sat up. When she saw Bill she asked, "When did he come?" + +This was almost the first sentence she had spoken correctly. Hitherto +her words had come disjointedly--in jerks. + +"Me, my lass? I've just dropped in to see my friend, Glen. He told me +you were here." + +"I've been here a long time. Oh, such a long time. I must have been +sleeping for weeks. I've forgotten which is Glen," she answered. + +"I'm Glen--Glen Leigh," he said as he placed his hand on her shoulder. + +"How silly of me that I didn't remember, but I shall not forget again. +You have been very good to me. Have I been very ill?" + +"Yes, for a long time," replied Glen humouring her. + +She looked at Jim, and Glen said, "He's Jim Benny, another good friend. +And that's Bill Bigs, one of the best of friends. We're all going to +look after you." + +She smiled. + +"Do I want looking after?" + +"You'll not be too strong for a good while yet," replied Glen. "When +you are strong we're going away from here." + +She looked at him wonderingly. + +"Going away from home?" she asked. + +"You'll want a change when you get stronger." + +This put a different complexion on the matter, and she smiled again, +nodded, and lay down once more. + +"That's the first attempt at conversation she's made," said Glen. "We're +getting on." + +"You boys--where are you going when you leave here?" asked Bill +suddenly. + +Glen did not hesitate. + +"Sydney," he answered. + +Bill remained silent a few minutes, then said slowly, as though still +thinking it out, "Sydney! I've a good mind to go with you, I'm sick of +Boonara. It's the last place that was ever put up on this earth." + +Glen jumped up from his seat, so did Jim. They took a hand each and +almost pulled Bill's arms off. + +"Do it!" cried Glen. "Do it! We want you. If the three can't make +headway in Sydney we're not the men I fancy we are." + +"Yes, come with us," put in Jim heartily. + +"Stop, you fellows, stop," said Bill. "It's easier said than done. I'll +tell you something. I've had an offer for my shanty, a damned good +offer, more than it's worth. I can't think why he's made it, or where +he's got the money from. I never knew Craig Bellshaw to give much money +away, and I don't see where else it could have come from." + +"Craig Bellshaw!" exclaimed Glen in surprise, "has he made a bid for +it?" + +"Not likely. What'd he want with a place like mine? It's Garry Backham, +Bellshaw's overseer. He came into my place and wanted to know if I'd +sell out. He said he wanted the place and was tired of Mintaro. I was +never more surprised in my life. You could have pushed me over with a +blade of grass." + +"I met him several times. He seems a taciturn sort of man, sullen, bad +tempered--not one of my sort," said Glen. + +"I fancy he's had a roughish time at Mintaro," Bill surmised, "but he +must have saved money. Bellshaw wouldn't lend it him in hundreds." + +"He was a pal of Calder's; about the only one he had," Jim remarked. + +"I never knew that," said Bill. + +"They used to meet on the track, and talk and smoke. He bought Calder +drink at times," explained Jim. + +"Birds of a feather," said Glen. + +"He made no fuss about Calder being shot," Bill commented. + +"It was no use. He's dead and gone, and there's no proof that he was +shot; he probably did it himself as you have said," decided Glen. + +The woman stirred, murmuring some words in her sleep; with a start she +sat up, stared at the group, stretched out her arms, and in a pleading +voice uttered the one word, "Come." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE FACE IN THE WATER + + +"I'm not superstitious," said Bill, "but that settles it; she said +'come' as plainly as she could, although she's fast asleep. I can't get +over that. I'll sell out to Backham, and join you. We'll make things gee +in Sydney, I reckon." + +They were delighted at this decision, for they knew Bigs was a good man +of business, who had his head screwed on right, and if there was +anything to be made he'd be on to it straight. + +"She'll want some clothes. She can't go in those things," said Glen. + +"I'll fix that up. I can get sufficient garments in Boonara for her to +reach Sydney in and there's no occasion for her to arrive like the Queen +of Sheba," Bill replied. + +They laughed. Things were more cheerful. The decision to abandon the +fence livened them up. + +When Bill left he promised to return in a week, and see how the woman +was progressing. + +"It'll be longer than that before we can travel with her," he said. + +Away in Sydney, the great city, vast even in those days, life was going +on very differently from the solitudes round Boonara. There were +hundreds, nay, thousands, of people in that beautiful city who had never +heard of Boonara, or knew there were such men as the keepers of the +fence. As far as the majority of the inhabitants were concerned such men +as Glen Leigh, Jim Benny, and Bill Bigs, might not have existed. Had the +story of the woman in the hut been told it would have been laughed to +scorn, and counted impossible, but there is nothing impossible in the +world, however improbable it may seem. + +Sydney was pulsating with life in this year of grace 18--. There is no +occasion to be exact. It might partially spoil matters, and what's a +year or two to a story, so long as the interest is maintained, and the +characters are living beings? Late in the nineteenth century Sydney +flourished exceedingly. The last twenty years of that remarkable era saw +it going ahead by leaps and bounds, and it has been growing ever since +until men who left it years ago, and have revisited it, can hardly +recognise the place. Long may it flourish, most beautiful of many +beautiful cities! + +There was a crowd in Pitt Street, outside Tattersalls, and over the way +at the marble bar streams of people were passing in and out, for it was +hot, and there were many parched throats. Moreover, it had been the +winding up day of the A.J.C. Meeting at Randwick, and every favourite +had got home, much to the disgust of the bookmakers. + +It was ten at night and sultry; there was no air to speak of. The +keepers of the fence would have thought it cool, but they were used to +being burnt up and parched, and lived in a land where water was often +flavoured with the taste of dead things, and not cooled with ice and +fragrant with lemon. Not one of this crowd knew what took place on the +border line of glittering wire. Boonara was as far off as, and more +strange than, Timbuctoo. + +Not one of this crowd? Stay. There was one--probably the only one--who +knew all about it, and he stood smoking a cigar and chatting to a man +outside a tobacconist's shop, not far from the Club on the opposite side +of the road. He was a man nearly six feet high, with black hair and +eyebrows, and a sunburnt face. Not a pleasant face, but strong, +determined, with a rather cruel mouth and dark cat-like eyes; a man +dangerous both to friend and enemy if he willed. He was well-dressed, +but somewhat carelessly; he had a slouch hat, dark grey clothes, and his +tie was awry. He stood with his legs slightly apart, gesticulating with +one hand as he talked. The man to whom he was speaking was the leviathan +of the Australian turf, who had made his position by a mixture of shrewd +business qualities and bold gambling, who betted in thousands, and took +"knocks" that would have sent a less plucky man out of the ring. But he +always came up smiling, and his luck was proverbial. He had been known +to play hazards for twelve hours at a stretch and never have a hand +tremble when he lost thousands. He was ostensibly a dealer in choice +cigars, etc., in fact in all the paraphernalia of a tobacconist's, and +it was his shop they had just come out of as they stood talking on the +pavement. He was not so tall as his companion, and had a much more +kindly face. He was popular because he was cheerful and honest, and the +little backer could always get a point over the odds from him. + +The taller man was Craig Bellshaw, of Mintaro Station. The bookmaker was +Nicholas Gerard, always called Nick by everybody. + +Craig Bellshaw was, as before mentioned, probably the only man who knew +there were such men as the keepers of the fence, who had heard of +Boonara, and was acquainted with the vast solitudes in the West. He was +a wealthy man, and could afford to leave Mintaro to the men he employed, +and come to Sydney in search of pleasure. When he was away he still had +his grip on his place, as some of his hands found to their cost. They +put it down to the spying of Garry Backham, the overseer. + +Craig Bellshaw was a man of about fifty years of age, but did not look +it. He had led a hardy life, and been successful. He owned miles upon +miles of land, thousands of cattle, and his sheep ran into hundreds of +thousands. Horses he had in abundance; how many he had no idea. He +claimed all within reach of his land round Mintaro district, but never +missed a dozen when they were taken. It pleased him to say they were +his, so he did not grumble when Boonara men, and fencers, claimed a few. +Bellshaw was difficult to understand, but one thing was certain: once he +got his hold on a thing, he seldom let go. + +He was a bachelor, but had a house in Sydney which cost him a +considerable sum to keep up; he found it handy when he came to town. He +owned racehorses, and his trainer was Ivor Hadwin, who had stables on +the hill at Randwick. Hadwin was completely under Bellshaw's thumb, and +was heavily in his debt. It was owing to pecuniary difficulties that he +became connected with him. This was often the case with Craig Bellshaw. +For once in a way the A.J.C. Meeting proved successful to the stable, +and Bellshaw's horses had won four races, one on each day; all were +heavily backed, and the bulk of the money had either been laid by Nick +Gerard, or he had worked the commission. This was the subject of their +conversation, and as they talked in the flare of the gaslights and the +shops, many people turned to look at them, for both were well-known +figures in the sporting world. + +"Yes, Nick, I've had a pretty good meeting," said Craig. + +Nick Gerard smiled. + +"I should say you had. There are several thousands to your credit," he +rejoined. + +"What do you think of the dark bay--the fellow that won to-day?" + +"Barellan? Oh, he's all right. A pretty fair horse I should say." + +"Yes, he is, a good deal better than you think." + +"Is he? I've seen him at work on the track. He won to-day, but I don't +think he's the best you've got." + +"No? Which is?" + +"Flash." + +Bellshaw smiled in his peculiar way as he said, "Perhaps he's a better +track horse, but I'm sure Barellan is the better horse in a race, +especially over a distance." + +"He may be. When are you going back West?" + +"Not yet. I'm sick of it. We've had such a long dry spell, but now we've +had rain, a real soaker. We wanted it badly enough." + +"It must be terrible when you have no rain for months." + +"It is. You're lucky to be here always." + +"Why don't you give it up now you've made your pile?" + +"Throw it up? I can't afford it. You don't know what's hanging to +Mintaro." + +"A good deal, no doubt, but you're a single man, with no one dependent +on you. It seems to me you're wasting your time. You've worked hard +enough," argued Nick. + +"So I have, but I couldn't live in Sydney always, any more than I could +at Mintaro." + +They talked for some little time. Eventually Gerard bade him good night +and went over to Tattersalls. The squatter walked along Pitt Street, +then hailing a cab drove to Surrey Hills. He called at a house, remained +some time, then drove to Circular Quay, catching the last boat to Manley. +It was beautiful on the harbour; a cool breeze was blowing from the +heads. The moon shone, and as he leaned over the side he saw his face +reflected in the water. This was peculiar. He did not remember having +seen such a thing before. As he looked he clutched the rail with both +hands, turned pale, and gasped. Reflected beside his face was another +face, that of a young woman--he had not noticed a lady standing a short +distance away from him who was also looking over the side of the boat. + +He staggered away and went to the fore part of the steamer, where there +was more breeze, and sat down. The perspiration broke out all over him. +He felt faint for the first time in his life. + +"I saw it. I'm sure of it, and it was like her face. I'm a fool to be +frightened at a shadow on the water," and he laughed harshly, a +mirthless sound. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +WAYS AND MEANS + + +Three men and a woman arrived in Sydney by the mail train from Bourke; +there were not many passengers, and they attracted some attention. It +was evident they came from out back, their appearance denoted it; they +were clothed in a rough country style. They were Glen Leigh, Jim Benny, +Bill Bigs, and the woman. They had very little luggage; it was contained +in a couple of bundles, "swags," that could be strapped on the back, +slung over a shoulder, or carried in the hand. Many people in Sydney +have seen the once familiar figure of a tall Queensland millionaire +walking along George Street with a similar outfit. In appearance Glen +Leigh was not unlike him, only younger. + +A porter watched them as they walked out of the station. They all seemed +solicitous about the woman. The man understood the three, the female he +was puzzled about. + +"They can't have picked her up coming in the train. She belongs to one +of them. I wonder which. The tall chap, perhaps. He's a big 'un; I fancy +I've seen him before. I wonder where they're bound for?" + +The porter's attention was claimed and he forgot all about them. + +"There's a coffee place in Lower George Street that will do us for a +time," said Glen, "till we've had a look round." + +The woman stared about her wonderingly. If she had ever been in a large +city it was evident she had forgotten all about it. + +Since her illness, which was not yet shaken off, she had developed in +body and mind, although as regards the latter it was to a great extent +blank as to the past. She had some colour in her cheeks. There were +signs that she would be pretty, with a good figure, and be an attractive +woman. + +She made no remarks as Glen and Jim walked on either side of her, Bigs +following behind with the larger bundle. Several people turned to look +at them as they went along. + +The coffee house was large, but unpretentious, the locality being none +of the best. It was at the Circular Quay end of George Street, and +Chinamen's shops and dens abounded--dull dirty places, with a few empty +tea chests in the windows, and bits of paper with Chinese characters +scrawled, or printed on, in various colours, like cracker coverings on a +table after a riotous Boxing Day dinner. In several of the shop doorways +Chinamen leaned against the posts, seldom moving when a customer pushed +by them into the shop, bent on playing fan tan, or smoking opium. + +"The Chinkies might have been propped up there since I was here last, +and that's a few years ago," laughed Bigs. + +"Rotten lot," said Jim. + +"Most of 'em. I've met one or two decent pigtails out West," Bill +answered. + +When the woman caught sight of the Chinaman it had a most peculiar +effect upon her. She shrank close to Glen, pushing him on to the +roadway, and almost slipping down herself. He saw by her face that she +was terrified, and followed the direction of her glance. It was fixed on +a fat Chinaman standing in his shop door looking across at them. He was +not exactly repulsive, but he was sleek and oily. His face shone, his +cheeks hung low, he had a double chin, and his eyes were like nuts fixed +in slits. + +"There's nothing to be afraid of," said Glen. "If he is a nasty-looking +beggar I daresay he's harmless." + +Jim and Bill noticed her agitation and scowled at the Chinaman, who +returned the challenge with a broad grin, showing his yellow teeth. + +She trembled violently. Her hand shook as it clasped Glen's arm with a +tight squeeze. He hurried her on; she was quite willing. It was not +until they were inside the coffee house that she recovered. + +"You don't like the Chinamen?" asked Glen. + +"I hate them. They frighten me," she said. + +I wonder why? thought Glen, as a maid came to show her her room. + +She looked back and asked, "Where is your room?" + +"I don't know yet," returned Glen. + +"Please don't go far away from me. Please don't." + +"All right," replied Glen. "I'll see to that." + +The maid smiled, but Glen's scowl quickly frightened it away. + +"We'll have to fix something up," he said. "She'd better be somebody's +sister. I'm too old; you take it on, Jim." + +"Yes, Jim's most suitable. He's not much older--a matter of three or +four years," agreed Bill. + +"His sister!" + +Jim didn't like the relationship. Once it was established it might be +difficult to induce her to change the feeling. He must accept, however; +there was no excuse for not doing so. + +"Very well, that's settled. I'll tell her about it," went on Glen. "Try +and explain to her, but she's as simple as a child, and won't understand +the reason for it." + +She was tired. The maid, who regarded her curiously, saw she was weak, +and asked her if she had been ill. She said she had been very ill, for a +long time, and she wanted rest. + +"Lie down on the bed. Let me take your boots on. I'll draw the curtain +round, and you can have a sleep. It will do you good. Have you travelled +far?" + +"From Bourke." + +"Where's that?" + +"In the West. Some hundreds of miles away." + +This excited the maid's compassion. She was a good-natured kind girl, +but fond of admiration, and she had seen a great deal of life since she +came out as an emigrant from the old country. + +"I'll be back in a minute," she said as she left the room. She went to +ask if she could remain with her for a short time, and receiving a reply +in the affirmative returned, after telling Glen she had persuaded her to +rest. + +"She's my friend's sister," and he pointed to Jim. "She's been very ill; +take care of her." + +"I'll look after her. I'm sorry I smiled as I did, but--" + +"But what?" asked Glen. + +"Oh, nothing. We see some queer folks here sometimes," she said. + +"I daresay you do," replied Glen, "but we're all right. You needn't be +afraid of any of us." + +"I'm not," she retorted, unable to resist laughing at him. + +"That girl's better than I thought," he remarked when she had gone. + +"They often are, if you'll only take time to find it out," said Bill. + +"Where's Jim?" + +"He must have just gone out. I don't think he liked the sister +business." + +"Why not?" Glen asked, surprised. + +"That remains to be seen," Bill answered, and the remark made Glen +thoughtful. + +Jim came in again and they had a council of ways and means. + +Bill Bigs had a considerable sum of money. He had not half-poisoned the +inhabitants of Boonara, and the keepers of the fence, and others, +without making a handsome profit on his concoctions. His dealings in hay +and provender of various kinds had been another source of income. +Occasional loans, at heavy risks, and corresponding interest, had also +brought grist to the mill. + +The sale of his shanty to Garry Backham brought him in several hundred +pounds, about twice the amount he valued it at, and he had not yet +recovered from the surprise at his good luck, or at the fact that Garry +had found the ready money in a lump sum. Altogether he had a few +thousands at his back. + +Glen Leigh had more money than the other two would have thought +possible. He had it stowed away in a bank in Sydney, where it had +remained, and been added to, ever since he had been on the fence. + +Jim Benny had a few pounds which he carried with him. + +"I'll look round," said Bill. "I'm the business man. I reckon I'd best +stick to my own line and buy a 'house' if I can find a decent one at a +fair price." + +"It's about the best thing you can do," agreed Glen. + +"And if I succeed, you two, and the girl, must put up with me until you +find work," went on Bill. + +Glen laughed. + +"What sort of work?" he asked. + +"That's a bit difficult, but two fellows who ride like you can ought to +find some sort of occupation. Start a buckjumping show. Give 'em a taste +of your quality; that's the game; I've hit on a little gold mine. We can +get horses, and it won't cost a deal to run it." + +"You mean have a real genuine show of buckjumping, and riding, in +Sydney, and other places?" Glen queried. + +"Yes, that's the idea." + +"How much would it cost to start it?" + +"A few hundreds. I'll find the money." + +"I must have a share in it, and we'll let Jim come in. He can take it +out in hard work," said Glen smiling. + +"I'm willing to do anything you wish," Jim declared. + +"If I manage to make the necessary arrangements," said Bill, "you'll +have to go and find the horses, the very worst buckers you can get. +There must be no faking about it." + +"There'll be none where I am concerned," replied Glen, "I'll pick up +some rough 'uns, you may depend on that, I say, Bill, I believe you've +hit on the right thing." + +"I'm sure I have. You're the best rider I ever saw sit a horse," said +Bill. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE CHINAMAN'S SHOP + + +Bill Bigs met a good many Chinamen, and had dealings with them, always +finding them keen business fellows, moderately honest, though some were +arrant rogues. + +He went out of the coffee house to look round, and saw the fat Chinaman +still standing in his doorway like a statue, as though he had not moved +since they saw him before entering the house. + +The name on the shop was Lin Soo. Probably this was the name of the man +at the door; at any rate something prompted Bill to cross the road and +look in at the shop window. He saw three tea chests, which he guessed +were empty, a couple of Chinese bowls, a vase with strange hideous +dragons painted or burnt on, an ivory-handled stick, a hat, a pile of +chop-sticks, a bundle of red papers, and a cat slumbering serenely +among the miscellaneous collection. + +"Is the cat for sale?" he asked the man. + +The Chinaman smiled. + +"Not for sale. A good cat; he catchee mice, cockroaches." + +"I didn't know there were any mice here." + +"He catchee them if they were here," grinned the man. + +"Your name is Lin Soo?" + +The Chinaman nodded. + +"You speak very good English," said Bill. + +"Been in Sydney years," he replied. + +"And made a heap of money," said Bill. + +"No. Chinaman no chance with the white man," said Lin solemnly. + +Bill laughed. + +"You yellow heathen, I know better than that. Are you a tea dealer?" + +Lin Soo nodded; it was a habit, and when he did so his cheeks flapped +and his eyelids fell up and down like trap doors. + +"Sell me half a pound of good tea," said Bill. + +Lin Soo turned and walked into the shop. Bill followed. He did not want +any tea, and Lin Soo knew it. + +The Chinaman went behind the counter, leaning on it with his elbows. + +"What do you want?" he asked. + +"Tea." + +Lin Soo grunted. + +"You no fool," he said. + +Bill laughed. + +"How do you know?" + +"You want no tea." + +"What do I want?" + +Lin Soo's head wagged again. + +"Guess," said Bill. + +"Give it up," replied Lin. + +"Why did you leer at the girl we had with us? You frightened her, you +oily beast," said Bill. + +Lin Soo started back. This was evidently unexpected, and Bill was a +formidable fellow to tackle. + +Lin Soo protested he had not stared at her. Lots of silly women were +frightened at Chinamen--why he didn't know. They had no cause to be. + +"They have every cause," said Bill. "Chinamen have ruined many white +women. Some of you yellow dogs buy and sell our girls, and trade them to +human beasts, who disgrace their colour. They're worse than you +fellows." + +"Much worse," agreed Lin. "You know about it?" + +"About what?" + +"Trading in white girls." + +"Yes, you scoundrel. I expect you've been at it." + +Lin Soo protested. He was a good Chinaman,--not one of that sort. + +Bill noticed the leer in his eyes, and concluded he was a deep-dyed +rogue. + +"Have you ever been out West?" he asked out of curiosity. + +Lin Soo said he had. A few years ago he had business in Bourke. + +Bill became interested. What took him to Bourke? + +Dealings with a big man, a man of money. He did not live at Bourke, but +he met him, Lin Soo, there. + +"What sort of dealings?" queried Bill. + +Lin Soo would not disclose them. + +Bill questioned him for some time, and discovered that he might smoke +opium there if he wished; also that he might gamble for a considerable +sum if he so desired. + +He left the shop, wondering what had induced him to waste his time +there. + +Lin Soo watched him go up the street, scowled after him, called him bad +names and cursed him in some horrible guttural way. + +"You sneaking round me," he said. "Better take care. Lin Soo stand no +fool play. Me stare at white woman! Why not? Me had dealings with many +white women. Business in Bourke with what you call squatter and white +woman. Tell him? Not muchy!" + +Bill walked into Pitt Street. When he came to the corner of Market +Street he stopped and stared. + +That looks uncommonly like Craig Bellshaw, he thought. + +The man he had seen turned round and came towards him. It was Bellshaw. +He saw Bill Bigs and recognised him. + +"You here, Bigs? What brings you to Sydney?" + +"I've sold out." + +"Have you? Tired of Boonara, eh?" + +"It's hardly a paradise as you know, and I got a good price for the +place, so I thought I'd quit." + +"I expect you've knocked up a nice little pile out of the natives, the +fencers, and my men, shearers, and so on. I had a nip or two at your +shanty. I can taste it yet. What horrible stuff you sold," said Craig. + +"No worse than others sell. No worse than the man who bought me out will +sell." + +"Who bought you out?" + +"Don't you know?" + +"How should I?" + +"Garry Backham. He paid cash down, too. I wonder where he came by it? I +don't suppose you've been over liberal with him," said Bill. He watched +Bellshaw as he spoke, and the squatter returned his glance without a +flicker. + +"Garry's bought you out? I wondered why he wanted to leave me," replied +Bellshaw. + +He's lying, thought Bill, and wondered why. + +"He'll not find it all profit," said Bill. + +Bellshaw laughed. + +"I don't expect he will," he agreed. "Who's there now looking after the +place?" + +"He is." + +"You mean he's left Mintaro and gone to Boonara?" + +"That's about it. He was in the house when I came away." + +"The scoundrel. He's neglected my interests. He shall pay for it. He'd +no business to leave Mintaro until I returned." + +"I expect Mintaro will be all right. You've plenty of hands there." + +Bellshaw laughed again. + +"I daresay they'll pull through somehow," he said. + +When Craig Bellshaw left him Bill went back to the coffee house, and +told them he had seen him. + +"Did he say when he was returning?" asked Glen. "I don't want to meet +him. He's not my kind. Besides he might try and make it nasty over +leaving the fence. He's one of that sort." + +"He's sure to be going back soon. He's been here some time I fancy. I +wonder why he tried to make me believe he knew nothing about Garry +Backham taking my place? It's all bunkum. He knew right enough, but he +must have some reason for trying to hide it," said Bill. + +"If all I've heard about Mintaro is correct there are some queer goings +on at times. I've never been there, but one of the fellows on the fence, +Abe Carew, was employed by him for a long time. He offended Bellshaw, +who kicked him out, and he was very sore about it. He gave him a nice +character. I didn't believe it all, of course, but no doubt a lot of +it's true," Glen remarked. + +"Bellshaw's one of those queer sorts, you never know what they are up +to, never know when you've got 'em. He's been in my place and said +things I knew were lies, and he seemed to have no reason for it, but he +must have had," said Bill. + +"Some fellows lie for the sake of lying," Glen answered. + +The woman slept all night until late next morning. When she came into +the large room Glen was the only one in it. She went straight up to him, +holding out both hands. When he took them she kissed him. The hot blood +surged in his veins. Was she always going to do this? He was glad no one +saw it. + +"You feel much better?" he asked when he had recovered his equanimity. + +"Almost well. Sleep is wonderful. Are we going to live here?" she +returned. + +"No. This is a sort of hotel. We are staying here until we find a home." + +"Why did we leave home?" she asked. + +"It was impossible to stay there; there was only one room in the hut." + +"Wasn't it always like that?" she asked as though trying to recall +something. + +"No, not always. Can't you remember?" + +"Remember--what?" + +"Where you came from when you came to the hut." + +She laughed. + +"How funny you are. You know I always lived there." + +"With me, and Jim, and Bill?" he asked. + +She seemed puzzled. + +"It must have been so, and yet--" she put her hand to her head. + +He watched her. Would she remember, or would he have to wait? That it +would all come back to her some day he was certain, and then-- + +She was at the window, looking into the street. Lin Soo's shop was +nearly opposite, but he was not visible. + +A dark man walked rapidly along, and was about to enter Lin Soo's when a +cab horse slipped and fell. This attracted his attention. He turned +round with the intention of going to assist the driver, but the horse +struggled to his feet unaided. + +As the man looked across the road the woman at the window gave a faint +cry. Glen was at her side in a moment. + +"What is it?" he asked. + +"That man, the dark man, looking this way. I've seen him before. Who is +he? Do you know?" she said in an agitated voice. + +It was Craig Bellshaw. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE ACCUSATION + + +"Have you seen him before? Do you know him? His name is Craig Bellshaw. +He lives at Mintaro, a big homestead, some miles from the hut, the home +we left," said Glen. + +The fear, or whatever it was, passed. She smiled. No, she did not know +him, nor had she heard the name. + +"Perhaps you knew someone like him?" Glen suggested. + +She shook her head. She did not remember. + +Much to Glen's surprise he saw Bellshaw go into Lin Soo's shop. He came +out again in about a quarter of an hour, hailed a passing hansom, and +drove away. + +Why had he gone into the Chinaman's? It was about the last place Glen +would have expected to see him in. He told Bill what had happened. They +could make nothing of it, but it made a deep impression on them. + +Craig Bellshaw was uneasy. The face on the water troubled him; it +haunted him as he walked about. He left Sydney suddenly and returned to +Mintaro, where he arrived unexpectedly. He found everything going on as +usual. Garry Backham had put a man in charge of the shanty at Boonara, +and returned to his duties until such time as Bellshaw came back. + +"I met Bigs in Sydney," said Bellshaw. "He told me you went into his +place the day he left, and handed it over to you. I suppose you came +back when he had gone?" + +"Yes. I thought it best to make sure of the place. Bigs is a shifty +customer. If I'd left him in charge he might have done me out of no end +of things," returned Garry. + +"Probably he would. He seemed surprised when I told him I didn't know +you had bought him out." + +Garry grinned. + +"Of course you didn't know. How should you?" + +The two men looked hard at each other. + +"Joe Calder's dead," said Garry. + +Bellshaw started. + +"Dead," he exclaimed. + +"Murdered. Shot through the heart." + +"Who did it?" + +"Nobody knows, but I have a suspicion," Garry answered. "He's buried, +and so far as that goes it's done with, but he was a friend of mine, and +yours, and we ought to do something." + +"I shan't. Let it be, man. What's the good of kicking up a fuss?" argued +Bellshaw. + +"Two men have cleared out from the fence." + +"Who are they?" + +"Glen Leigh and Jim Benny." + +"Good riddance to them. They were rotters--no good to me." + +"You don't like Leigh. He's been one too many for you once or twice." + +"I hate him. It was Leigh who kicked up a fuss about that mob of cattle +that broke the fencing down. He complained that I ought to have them +driven off, and said it was not the duty of the keepers of the fence." + +"It's part of their duty. They are a lazy lot of beggars," replied +Garry. "I fancy Glen Leigh and Jim Benny know a good deal about Joe +Calder's death." + +"Do you think that's why they have cleared out?" + +"Yes. Don't you?" + +"It may have something to do with it; I wish I could find out." + +"You said a minute or two back it was best left alone," said Garry. + +"But this is different. I'd like to put a halter round Leigh's neck." + +"Why? Have you any strong reason?" + +"I'm told Abe Carew and he were pals, and that Abe told him a good many +things about Mintaro. Calder gave me the information," Bellshaw +answered. + +"Did he now, and Abe wouldn't spare you, would he?" + +"Spare me? What do you mean? He'd tell a lot of infernal lies about me, +the scoundrel." + +"You should be more careful how you send men away. You were not over +polite to him," said Garry. + +"He didn't deserve it. He robbed me right and left." + +"I don't think he did. I told you so at the time." + +Bellshaw made an impatient gesture. + +"You know nothing about it; I shan't be sorry when you're gone, Garry. +You've been getting above yourself for some time." + +"You think so, do you? I shan't be sorry to get away from Mintaro. +There's some things a fellow can't stand." + +Bellshaw laughed harshly. + +"I didn't think you were soft, or chicken-hearted," he said. + +"I'm not, but I'd like to know what became of the woman," retorted +Garry. + +"I told you I took her away with me because I was tired of her, and that +she was going back to Sydney with me," said Bellshaw. + +"Did she go to Sydney with you?" + +"Yes." + +"And she's there now?" + +"Yes." + +"With her mother, I suppose," sneered Garry. + +"Never mind who she's with. She's all right." + +"I don't believe you took her to Sydney," said Garry. + +Bellshaw glared at him. + +"Where else could I take her?" he asked fiercely. + +"Nowhere." + +"What do you mean by that?" + +"It's pretty lonely about here. One woman would not be missed." + +Bellshaw caught him by the arm in a fierce grip and raised his fist. + +"Be careful, or I'll make it hot for you," he snarled. + +Garry wrenched himself free. + +"Let me alone. I guess I'm a match for you, and I'm not afraid of you, +if other people are," he cried. "You lent me the money to buy Bill Bigs +out. Well, it will be better for you to make me a present of it." + +Craig Bellshaw started back. + +"Look," he said, "see that?" and he pointed to the wide verandah, built +round the house. + +"There's nothing there," answered Garry, thinking he must have been +doing it heavy in Sydney and that the effects had not died out. + +"No, of course not," said Bellshaw, trying to laugh it off. "So you say +I had better make you a present of it. Why?" + +"Because I know you did not take her to Sydney," said Garry slowly. + +"It's a lie," roared Bellshaw. + +"No it isn't, and you know it. Where is she now?" + +"That's my affair." + +"You can't tell me. I'm worth a few hundreds. I'll bet them you can't +tell me," Garry persisted. + +"This is foolishness. What the deuce have you got into your head?" + +"More than you think. I know you travelled to Sydney alone," replied +Garry. + +"And supposing I did, you fool, do you expect I'd travel in the same +carriage with her?" + +"Maybe not, but you'd have been only too glad to have gone anywhere with +her a couple of years back," Garry retorted. + +"It was her own fault. She was tired of my company. She behaved badly. I +treated her well," said Bellshaw. + +"When you first brought her from Bourke you did, but I don't think she +ever forgave, or forgot, how she came here. It was a blackguardly trick +to play her." + +"What trick?" + +"Oh, stow that. Do you mean to say you think I don't know? I'm no fool. +She was dazed, drugged, or something, when she came. Why it was more +than a week before she found out where she was, and she had to stay +because she couldn't get away. There was nowhere to go." + +"We'll drop all that. She's safe enough now. Don't bother your head +about her." + +"But that's just what I do. I might have saved her. I could have done so +if I'd had the pluck, but you bought me off, and I hate myself for it. +Do you know what I think?" + +"No." + +"You can have it whether you like it or not--I think you've done away +with her." + +Bellshaw stepped up to him in a threatening attitude. + +"Stand back," said Garry, pulling out his revolver. "I found this near +the big water hole when I was having a ride round." + +He pulled a handkerchief and a piece of ribbon out of his pocket. + +"Well?" Bellshaw asked. + +"There'd been a struggle near the water hole, but she wasn't in there. I +made sure of that, but you left her there, and she's as dead as if you'd +shoved her in. She'd starve, die of thirst, go mad wandering about. It +would have been more merciful to strangle her. I saw her tracks for some +distance, but I couldn't follow them far; the ground soon dries up. +She's no more in Sydney than I am, and you've done a brutal, cowardly +act, Craig Bellshaw!" + +Bellshaw made no answer, and Garry went on, "It'll come home to you some +day, mark my words if it doesn't. If I thought she was alive I'd be +mighty glad, for I feel as though I had a hand in it. When I saw her +drive away with you something told me you meant mischief, but I never +thought you'd kill her by inches. Hadn't she suffered enough at your +hands that you must let her die such a terrible death?" + +"Have you done?" asked Bellshaw quietly. His tone surprised Garry. + +"Yes, I've said enough, and you know the bulk of it's true." + +"You may think it is, although it's a poor recompense for all I have +done for you. However, I bear you no malice. I have only one request to +make." + +"What is it?" asked Garry. + +"Keep your thoughts to yourself. The law is powerful. There's more than +that--in this part of the country I am the law, and I can take it into +my own hands without fear of being called to account. You've seen me do +it; you know I'm not a man to be cowed, that I do not fear you, or any +other man, nor what you say, or do. Listen to me, Garry Backham. There +are men round Mintaro who will do my bidding for money, no matter what +it is I ask. You know the sort of men, desperate, some of them, the +worst of criminals. If I hear any of the lies you have said repeated I +will burn your place to the ground, and you with it. You had best keep a +still tongue." + +Garry knew he was capable of carrying out his threats, and that he had +the men to do what he willed. He believed the accusation he had brought, +but he had no wish to run into grave danger. + +"You'll think about that money, Mr. Bellshaw," he said. + +"You mean giving it you, not lending it?" + +"Yes." + +"It depends upon yourself," was the reply. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +JERRY, JOURNALIST + + +In a small house, in a side street, on Moore Park, the woman who came to +Sydney with Glen Leigh, and the other two, had rooms. It had been +decided to call her Clara Benny, as it was necessary she should have a +name, and to install her here. Mrs. Dell, who kept the house, was a +widow, a respectable woman in reduced circumstances, and she had +promised to do what she could for her lodger. Clara could not understand +it. She wanted the three to be with her. They had always been together. +Why should they leave her alone? It was useless to try and explain, and +no attempt was made. Glen said it was necessary because they had to +work, and it would be better for her to have a kind motherly woman to +look after her; this made her more contented, and one of them called to +see her every day. Mrs. Dell was puzzled over her lodger; she fancied +she suffered from some brain trouble, but she liked her from the first, +and quickly came to love her; she looked upon her as a substitute for +her own girl, who had died of consumption at about the same age. Clara +repaid this affection, and in a very short time they became inseparable. +The money she received for her board and lodging was a great help to +Mrs. Dell, and Glen Leigh was always supplying some delicacy for the +table. + +Bill Bigs succeeded in finding a small hotel to his liking in +Castlereagh Street. The seller came into some money, and sailing for +England, was glad to find a buyer at a reasonable price. The house was +in bad condition, but Bill, with his usual energy, quickly set to work, +and in a few weeks it was spick and span, clean and inviting. There was +a steady trade, and a fair number of customers frequented the +place--many theatrical, sporting and pressmen, with whom he became +popular. + +Jerry Makeshift, of "The Sketch," found good copy in Bill. Jerry was +one of the most popular men in Sydney, a wonderfully clever black and +white artist, a born joker, and an excellent writer of highly +sensational news, in paragraphs, or columns, as required. He had one +failing, not an unusual one in these days. He was fond of his glass and +hilarious company, and as he always had a lot of admirers following in +his wake he soon brought genial customers to "The Kangaroo," as Bill +curiously named the place. Jerry Makeshift extracted from Bill much +interesting press matter about Boonara, and the district surrounding it; +also about the keepers of the fence. + +The clever journalist was astounded at what he heard, especially about +the men on the rabbit-proof fence. In a hazy sort of way he had heard of +them before, but when Bill began to talk about them, with intimate +knowledge, Jerry opened his eyes. + +"I'll introduce you to two of 'em," said Bill. "They are staying with +me. In fact they came to Sydney with me from the forsaken place. They +found the life too much for 'em, and you bet it must be awful when such +men as they throw it up." + +"I'd like to meet them," replied Jerry. "How is it I have not done so +before?" + +"Well, it's this way. They're busy. They've got a scheme in hand that I +suggested, and I think it's just the thing for 'em and will pay well," +and he explained about the buckjumping exhibition. + +"By Jove, that's a capital idea," said Jerry, who saw the possibilities +at once. + +"You might be able to give it a lift," suggested Bill cautiously. + +"Probably. I will if I can, but I must hear more about it," Jerry +answered. + +"Come in to-night, and I'll introduce you to Glen Leigh. He's the chap, +a wonderful man, as straight as a die, big, strong, a rough customer, +but with the heart of a child when anything appeals to his better +nature. Why he went on the fence the Lord only knows. I remember him +arriving in Boonara. It caused quite a sensation. No one could make him +out then, and no one made him out before he left. A mystery man, that's +what he is. Don't forget to-night. I'll have a decent dinner for you, +and a bottle of the right stuff, and you can talk in my room to your +heart's content." + +"That will suit me," said Jerry as he went out. + +"He's a good sort," thought Bill. "He ought to be able to boom the show +when it starts." + +Glen Leigh was averse to talking with strangers, but Bill persuaded him +to meet Jerry Makeshift. + +"It's the fellow who draws those funny things that catch the eye on the +front page of 'The Sketch.' They're the cleverest things out, and 'The +Sketch' is the best paper of its kind in Australia. It goes all over the +place. It even got as far as Boonara," said Bill. + +"And I've had many a copy in my hut," answered Glen. "I don't mind +meeting a man like that. He's out of the common. He can teach you +something." + +"That's settled," said Bill. "He'll be here at seven, and mind you pitch +it him strong about the show. He'll ask you about work on the fence. +Tell him what it's like; he'll appreciate it." + +Jerry Makeshift was punctual. He loved a good dinner and he sniffed +appreciatively as he came into the house. Jim Benny was away, so Glen +went upstairs with his companion, and they did full justice to Bill's +good things, which he laid himself out to supply. + +Jerry at once saw that Glen Leigh was no ordinary man, and that he would +have to be handled in anything but an orthodox fashion. With his usual +skill in such matters he set to work to propitiate him, and succeeded so +well that at the end of the dinner Glen was talking freely to him. He +told him all about the glittering wire, of the awful loneliness of the +life, the terrible droughts, the millions of rabbits, how they died in +hundreds of thousands from lack of food, and their bones were piled up +in great heaps. He told of the losses of sheep and cattle, how squatters +were almost ruined, and had to borrow money to go on with. He pictured +the thousands of square miles of desolate land without a blade of +grass; then suddenly the rain fell in torrents and in twenty-four hours +came the glorious change from baked brown to verdant glistening green +which covered the earth like a brilliant carpet, dazzling the eyes, that +had been accustomed to dead colours for months at a stretch. + +Then he went on to describe the life on the fence, the men, their varied +characters; some strange stories he told of crime and criminals that he +heard when he was one of the keepers. His language was plain and simple +so that every word hit home. + +Jerry Makeshift listened with his eyes fixed intently on Glen Leigh's +face. As he talked he seemed to forget where he was; he was back again +in his old surroundings, in the hut, in Bill's shanty at Boonara. He +stopped suddenly. There must be no mention of Clara Benny, the woman in +the hut, or how they came to Sydney. + +"I never heard such a thrilling, interesting, story before," said Jerry, +who knew he had discovered a storehouse of fresh copy in Glen Leigh. +Apart from this Leigh had won his wayward, roving nature completely. +Here was a man after his own heart, a man who had seen much and done +more, a worker at the hardest kind of work, who went grinding on in +solitude with no word of encouragement from a living soul. + +Glen Leigh had made a staunch friend. He did not think he had done +anything, or said anything, out of the common. That was where he proved +so attractive to Jerry. The practised journalist knew every word he +heard was true, that no exaggeration was here. On the contrary the +reality must have been ten times worse than it was described. + +"Tell me about this buckjumping show Bigs mentioned," said Jerry. + +Glen smiled. + +"Bill's sanguine, too sanguine, about that." + +"I don't think he is. There are great possibilities in it," Jerry +answered. + +"Maybe so, but it'll take a lot of working up." + +"I'll do what I can for you," promised Jerry. + +"You will! That's good of you. I reckon a few words from you, or a +sketch from your pen, goes a long way with the public," replied Glen. + +Jerry laughed. There was not an atom of conceit about him. + +"I do my best to amuse the public. I fancy I manage it all right +somehow, but heaven knows where the talent I possess comes from, for I +never had much education. I'm what they call self-taught." + +"Then you were a better teacher than hundreds of men who profess to know +a heap of things," declared Glen. + +"Perhaps so. A battle with the world when you're young is a good +education in itself," replied Jerry. + +Glen told him how "The Sketch," and Jerry's drawings, were to be found +even on the fence and in Boonara. + +"I've spent hours over 'em," he said. "The man who can make a keeper of +the fence laugh deserves a big pension for life." + +Jerry pulled "The Sketch" out of his pocket. + +"That's the latest. Just off the press. I'll leave it you." + +A paper fell on the floor. Jerry picked it up. + +"Have you seen this?" he asked. + +"What is it?" + +"Tattersalls' Hundred Thousand Pound Sweep on the Melbourne Cup. You +ought to try your luck in it," said Jerry. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +IN SEARCH OF HORSES + + +"I think I'll risk a pound," said Glen laughing. + +"A hundred thousand pound sweep is not bad, and the winner takes about a +fourth of it," Jerry answered. + +"Twenty-five thousand. That would do me all right. No occasion for more +work. I'd buy a nice little property and be comfortable for the +remainder of my life," said Glen. + +They parted in a very cordial manner. It was not often Glen let himself +go like this, but he liked Jerry, and when he was fond of a man he was +not slow to show it. + +Glen went West next day and forgot all about the ticket, but there was +plenty of time as the sweep did not close for several weeks. + +He went on a purchasing expedition, to buy horses for the show, while +Bill Bigs and Jim Benny were preparing the way in Sydney for an opening +in the exhibition building, which had already been secured. Jim had no +desire to go into the Boonara district again after what had happened. +There was no telling what rumours might be about. As a matter of fact +Garry Backham was sorry he had thrown out a hint to Craig Bellshaw. He +might be inclined to follow it up. + +Garry was very much surprised one morning when Glen Leigh walked into +his place and bade him the time of day as though he had seen him a few +hours before. Leigh was a cool hand and never flustered, except on +special occasions, when he knew he had been put upon, or someone tried +to bounce him. When he flared up there were ructions, as more than one +man on the fence had found out during his time there. + +"You're about the last man I expected to see in Boonara," said Garry. + +"I daresay I am. I'm here on business. I can put some money in your way +if you'll help me. We were never very friendly, but that's all over. I +daresay you have no objections to earning money?" + +"None at all. We're most of us that way inclined," replied Garry. "As to +being bad friends, don't you think that was mostly your fault?" + +"No. There was a good bit of underhand work on the fence, sneaking, and +so on. Joe Calder and you were pretty thick. I fancy Bellshaw got some +hints, true or untrue, from the pair of you." + +"He never got any from me, whatever he did from Joe." + +"Are you quite sure?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, I'll try and believe it. Joe Calder paid for all the wrong he +did." + +"Do you know what some folks say about here?" + +"No." + +"That either you, or Jim Benny, shot him, and that's why you both +cleared out." + +"They say that, eh?" + +"Yes." + +"They're wide of the mark. Why didn't they say it before we left, not +when our backs were turned?" asked Glen. + +Garry smiled. + +"It wouldn't do for a man to accuse you to your face of murder," he +answered. + +"Then you don't hold me responsible for Calder's death?" Glen queried. + +"Not likely, is it?" answered Garry. "What's the business you're here +on?" + +"I want a dozen of the worst bucking horses in the district. It swarms +with bad 'uns of all sorts," said Glen. + +"You're right. I never saw such brutes in my life. Mintaro's overrun +with them, if one could only find them." + +"Would Bellshaw sell some?" asked Glen. + +"I should say he'd be only too glad to get rid of any you cared to +pick." + +"You can manage it, can't you? You were always on good terms with him," +said Glen. + +"I'm not now," replied Garry. + +Glen looked surprised. He thought Bellshaw found the money with which +Garry bought Bill Bigs out. + +"You don't mind me saying it, but Bill fancied Bellshaw found you the +money for this place," he said. + +"He did, but he only lent it me. It's since I bought it we quarrelled." + +"Serious?" + +"Rather, but we've agreed to drop it. Still, we're not on good terms." + +"Then I'd better go and see him alone," said Glen. + +Garry hesitated. There was no telling how Bellshaw might act, as Glen +ought to have sent in his notice to him before he left the fence. He +knew, however, that Glen Leigh was capable of taking care of himself, +and that he was more than a match for the squatter. + +"Perhaps you had," he agreed. "I can tell you where the best horses for +your purpose are to be found. I never saw such beasts, regular savages, +half wild, unbroken, not even handled, and some of them six years old. +They're most of 'em by old Tear'em, as they call him. Perhaps you've +heard of him?" + +"I've heard the name, but nothing much about him except that he's a +savage." + +"So he is, and so are all his lot. Tear'em has accounted for more than +one man's life," said Garry. + +"Why doesn't Bellshaw shoot him?" + +"That's more than I can tell. It strikes me he rather likes the horse. +It suits his temperament." + +"Where are these horses to be found?" + +"At the Five Rocks most likely. Do you know where that is?" + +"No." + +"To the south of Mintaro, a good twenty miles." + +"And how the deuce am I to get at 'em? I shall want assistance." + +"If you get Bellshaw's permission to bag a dozen or two I'll go with you +to get 'em and take half a dozen men from here." + +"That's a bargain," said Glen. "I expect it will be tough work getting +'em into the trucks when we have driven them as far as Bourke, if ever +we get 'em there." + +"Never fear about that. I know how to handle them. What are you going to +do with 'em when they reach Sydney?" + +Glen explained, and Garry thought the idea splendid. He was quite sure +it would pay. He said he'd like to be in it. + +"So you shall, Garry," said Glen, who was one of the quick forgiving +kind. "How much?" + +"A couple of hundred or so." + +"It's as good as done. Of course, I must consult Bill. He's the prime +mover, the originator of the scheme." + +"You'll stay the night?" Garry asked. + +"I've no time to spare. I must return as soon as possible, so if you'll +let me have a fresh horse I'll ride on to Mintaro at once." + +"You can have the best I've got. It'll be nothing very grand, but I'll +find one that will take you there." + +He went out, leaving him in the bar. + +Glen as he looked round vividly recalled the day he rode in from the hut +to see Bill on behalf of the woman. He wondered what she was doing. Was +Jim Benny with her? He did not like the idea of Jim seeing too much of +her. Yet it was foolish of him. Why should he not see her as often as he +wished? She was supposed to be his sister. + +Garry returned and said the horse would be round in a few minutes. + +"Don't ruffle Bellshaw," he counselled. "He's not been in the best of +tempers since he came home from Sydney." + +"Bill had a talk with him in Pitt Street, and I saw him. Where do you +think he was going?" + +"I don't know. He's a queer sort." + +"Into a Chinaman's shop in Lower George Street. A fellow named Lin Soo. +A beastly-looking Johnnie. I wonder what he went there for?" + +Garry was glad Glen was not looking at him or he might have seen his +agitation and wondered at it. + +"He knows a lot of curious people," he answered. "Probably he went to +buy tea." + +"It wasn't a tea shop, although that is what Lin Soo pretends it is. I +expect, from what Bill said, it's an opium den, or worse." + +"There are lots of 'em in Sydney," said Garry with an assumption of +carelessness. + +"Plenty in that quarter. They ought to root the whole lot out. It +wouldn't be a bad job if the places were burned down." + +Glen went out, mounted, and had a parting word with Garry, who said, +"Remember what I told you about Bellshaw. There's something wrong with +him, I'm certain." + +"In what way?" + +"He talks a bit wild, and seems to have something on his mind; he sees +things," and he told Glen about the verandah incident. "I put it down to +the spree he'd probably been on in Sydney." + +"I'll humour him," replied Glen laughing. "If he turns rusty I'll have +to try and get the horses elsewhere. There are plenty of 'em, I +expect." + +"Heaps, but none half so good for your purpose as those at the Five +Rocks, by old Tear'em, or one of his sons," said Garry. + +Glen waved his hand as he rode away. Garry watched him until horse and +man became specks in the distance. As he went inside he muttered, "I +think I can guess why Craig Bellshaw went into Lin Soo's shop." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +LEIGH HEARS STRANGE THINGS + + +Craig Bellshaw was in an ill humour. He had received a letter from Lin +Soo which upset him. The Chinaman said he had changed his mind. He could +not supply him with what he required, it was too risky; already he had +been in trouble with the police, and he dare not undertake it. These +were not the exact words, for the letter was illiterate, but Lin Soo +made it plain enough to Bellshaw. + +"He hasn't returned the money I advanced him, but he'll have to if he +doesn't fulfil his part of the bargain. There's no risk, at least not +much, and he's done it before. I can't live here without some sort of +comfort." + +His quarrel with Garry Backham made him vindictive. He was rather afraid +of Garry after what he had said. The man knew too much about certain +things at Mintaro, doings, which, if they came to light, would get him +into serious trouble. He would have to give Garry the money he had lent +him, but intended keeping him in suspense for a time. + +Glen Leigh arrived at Mintaro in the evening. When Bellshaw saw who his +visitor was he wondered what brought him there. It was bold conduct on +Leigh's part to come and face him after deserting his post. + +"Are you surprised to see me?" asked Glen as he dismounted, and Bellshaw +came out. + +"Yes, you're a cool hand." + +"Why?" + +"I suppose you know I can have you arrested for deserting?" + +Glen laughed. + +"Who is to arrest me?" + +"I have the power." + +"And who's to look after me if you arrest me?" + +"I can easily manage that." + +"But you won't." + +"Why not?" + +"Because it would only cause you trouble and worry." + +"What have you come for?" + +"To buy horses," replied Glen. + +Bellshaw laughed as he said, "Turned horse-dealer, have you?" + +"I'm on the look out for a dozen of the worst buckjumpers I can find," +said Glen. + +"What for?" + +Glen explained. Bellshaw became interested. There seemed to be money in +the idea. + +"You'll find plenty here, but you'll have to sort them out yourself. I +can't afford men to help you." + +"I'm prepared for that. Garry Backham will find the men." + +"Backham's behaved badly towards me; he's not to be trusted. I shouldn't +advise you to have much to do with him." + +"He'll not get round me. I've had a long talk with him. He tells me you +put him into Bigs's place; it was good of you to help him." + +"And he's repaid me by the basest ingratitude, but it's generally the +way if you help a man." + +"It's not my way," said Glen. + +"You'll stop the night?" asked Bellshaw. + +"Yes, if you'll put me up." + +"There's heaps of room. You're welcome to some of it," answered Bellshaw +ungraciously. + +After dinner they talked about the horses, and Bellshaw agreed to let +him have a dozen for a hundred pounds, which was quite as much, or more, +than they were worth, but Glen had no desire to haggle over the affair. + +He slept in a room near Bellshaw's. In the wooden homestead sounds +carried far. + +About the middle of the night Glen was roused by hearing someone walking +on the verandah, pacing to and fro. The footsteps sounded stealthy and +peculiar. He could not make it out; his curiosity was aroused. He got +off the bed quietly, he was only partially undressed, and went to the +door, which opened on to the verandah. It was not locked. He turned the +handle, opened it cautiously, and looked out. There was a faint light, +and at the end of the verandah he saw Craig Bellshaw coming towards him; +he was, like himself, only partially dressed. He did not wish Bellshaw +to think he was spying on him so he almost closed the door and listened. + +The pad of his bare feet on the boards sounded strange in the stillness. + +Bellshaw stopped when nearly opposite Glen's room. He was talking in a +weird voice; it sounded unnatural. As Glen listened he came to the +conclusion that Bellshaw was walking in his sleep; to make sure he +opened the door wide. He could easily make an excuse that he heard +someone prowling about and wanted to see who it was--if Bellshaw were +not asleep. + +The squatter faced him, his eyes wide open, but vacant. He stared +fixedly at Glen but did not see him. + +"He's fast asleep," thought Glen, and crept closer to him, not being +able to restrain his curiosity. + +"Don't struggle, you fool, or make that horrid row. I'll put you in that +hole if you do. Bite, will you, you vixen? I've had enough of you; +you've tired me out with your grumbling ways. Brought you here by +force! It's a lie. You came of your own free will. You knew why you came +to Mintaro." + +Bellshaw clutched the air with his hands as though trying to strangle +something. Glen watched every movement closely. He felt he was on the +eve of a discovery. Bellshaw went down on his knees and pressed the +boards with both hands. + +"Keep still, will you! Keep still," he muttered, "or I'll crush the life +out of you. She's quiet now. I'll leave her here. She'll die. There's no +place for her to go to. She'll wander about until she drops, and then +give up. That's the best way. No one can say I killed her. I'll leave +you here. It will give you some sort of a chance if it is a poor one." + +Bellshaw got up and began talking again. This time Glen knew he was +speaking to his buggy horses. + +Suddenly Bellshaw caught Glen by the arm. For a moment the shock +staggered him. The awakening was dangerous; he seemed about to faint. +With an effort he pulled himself together and glared at Glen Leigh. + +"What the devil are you doing prowling about on the verandah at this +time of night?" asked Bellshaw. + +"I might ask the same question. I heard your footsteps. Naturally I +wanted to see who it was. You were walking in your sleep. I thought it +best not to wake you. I've heard it's dangerous," replied Glen. + +Craig Bellshaw shivered. He was thinking of what he might have said or +done, in Leigh's presence. + +"I'm troubled with sleep-walking," he said, "and have been for some +time. It's beastly. No doubt I do and say queer things for which I am +not responsible." + +Glen made no answer. He had heard sufficient to put him on what he +thought was the right track, and he could have strangled Bellshaw +without compunction. His hands itched to get at him, but he must bide +his time, and make his punishment more severe. A quick death was too +good for this man, if what he, Glen, surmised was correct. + +"I advise you to go and rest," he remarked at last, "or you'll be fit +for nothing later on." + +"I'm always upset after this," said Bellshaw. "It unnerves me. If you +want to get away early don't mind me. You can have as many buckjumpers +as you care to take. Pick 'em where you like. I'll lend them to you. +When you've finished with them you can return them, or sell them, and +we'll divide the money." + +He spoke feverishly, hurriedly, evidently with the intention of +propitiating Leigh. + +"No thank you," answered Glen. "I prefer to buy right out. I'll pick +what I want, and a hundred pounds will more than cover it. A bargain's a +bargain. Besides if I buy the horses I'm under no obligation to you, and +I can do as I like." + +Glen left him, went into his room, and shut the door. + +Bellshaw walked to his room and sat down in a cane chair, cursing his +luck that he should have walked in his sleep with Glen in the house. + +What had he said? + +This question kept on repeating itself with monotonous regularity. It +sounded like the ticking of a clock in his head. On one occasion, when +he woke up suddenly, and found himself on the verandah, it all came back +to him how he acted in his sleep. He remembered it now. Had he said +anything that Leigh could get hold of? + +No, of course he hadn't. If he'd gone through the whole thing Leigh +would not have understood what he meant. He laughed at his momentary +fears. Glen Leigh might think him mad, but he would never guess at the +truth; it was impossible. He started. Leigh had seen Garry Backham. Had +Garry told him what he suspected? This was hardly likely. Why should he? + +Glen Leigh did not lie down again. He was piecing the threads of a +tragedy together, and Craig Bellshaw was depicted as a most hideous +villain, a monster deserving of slow torture, if what he, Leigh, +thought were true. He'd find out, get proof, and when there was +sufficient to go upon, Craig Bellshaw had better beware. No mercy would +be shown him. The scene when he found Clara Benny in his hut rose before +him. He clenched his fists, raised them above his head, and vowed +vengeance on Craig Bellshaw. + +Taking a piece of paper he wrote in pencil in large letters LIN SOO. +Dressing himself he went out. When he reached Bellshaw's door he pushed +the paper underneath. He got his horse, saddled it, and rode towards +Boonara. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +"A MAGNIFICENT BRUTE" + + +It was late when Craig Bellshaw awoke from a restless slumber. His first +thoughts were about Glen Leigh, and the happenings of the night. He +wondered if he had gone. He hoped so; he had no desire to meet him again +at present. + +Opening the door he saw a piece of paper on the floor. Picking it up he +read the name Lin Soo written in pencil in large letters. + +He stared at it, wondering how it came there. + +Glen Leigh must have slipped it under the door. But why? What had he to +do with Lin Soo? Probably he had never heard of him, and yet there was +no one else to do it. + +Lin Soo. Supposing by some strange chance Glen Leigh had met the +Chinaman. Even so, it was not likely Lin Soo would say anything about +their transactions; he dare not. It flashed upon him he might have +mentioned the name in his ramblings. If so, what had he said in +connection with it? As he dressed he became nervous. If Glen Leigh had +an inkling of what had happened there would be trouble brewing. He, and +other keepers of the fence, had many grievances against Bellshaw which +they would be only too glad to pay off. He must try and find out what +had passed when he walked and talked in his sleep. It must be done +warily. + +"I'll see him before he returns to Sydney," he thought. "Even if he +heard things he had no business to, I can silence him. Murder is not so +easily shelved, and there's Joe Calder's death to account for." + +Glen Leigh arrived at Boonara, and next day set out for Five Rocks, with +Garry Backham and half a dozen good riders, used to the work, to round +up a mob of horses and make a selection. + +"The best plan will be," said Garry, "to drive 'em into the nearest +yard, which is about half a dozen miles away, and test them. It will be +a tough job, but the men who are going with us are used to that sort of +work. They'll not mind how rough they are." + +They did not ride near Mintaro, and Glen had no intention of going there +again. + +As he rode along with Garry, he mentioned about Craig Bellshaw walking +in his sleep; he said he talked a lot and acted strangely. + +"What did he say?" asked Garry. + +"Something about leaving someone to die--a woman. He went through some +curious antics, as though he were struggling with her. At the finish he +said he'd leave her to wander about until she died. He must have +committed some dastardly deed or he'd never rave like that," said Glen. + +Garry was silent. Should he tell Glen how much he knew? There was no +necessity for it, and he might be dragged into trouble if he did. + +"I've never seen him walk in his sleep," he replied eventually, "but +he's a queer fellow, and has more on his conscience than I'd care to +carry." + +"I've heard of strange doings at Mintaro when I was on the fence," said +Glen. + +"What sort of doings?" + +"About women who came and stayed for a time and were sent away." + +"I'd rather say nothing about it," answered Garry. + +Glen did not press the subject; he could find out what he wanted later +on. In case it were necessary, he would put a straight question or two +to Garry. + +It was late when they arrived at Five Rocks and camped for the night. +The place was well named. Five large rocks rose from the ground in the +strangest manner. They were conical, smooth, not many yards apart. Their +formation was a strange freak of nature. They were probably the result +of a fierce upheaval in some far distant age, when natives and wild +animals were the only occupants of the vast territory. + +There was a water hole in the centre of the group, fed from the rocks, +and Garry said it was this which brought the horses round, for it was +seldom dry. + +The six Boonara men were strong sturdy fellows used to a life of +hardships. They were not given to conversation and quickly rolled over, +with their saddles for pillows, and went to sleep. + +Garry and Glen talked for some time, but gradually they dropped off, and +the silence of the night reigned round the eight recumbent forms. + +As soon as daylight sprang upon them they were astir, and after a hasty, +scanty meal they set out to round up the horses. + +This was easier said than done. They traversed several miles before they +sighted a mob, but were rewarded by seeing at least fifty. + +"You'll be able to get what you want out of that lot," said Garry, "if +we can get 'em into the yard." + +"We'll manage that," answered one of the men. "I suppose the gates are +always open?" + +Garry said they were, and indicated the direction in which the horses +should be driven. + +The men set out to round them up on the side. Garry rode to the left, +Glen to the right, so as to guide them in the right direction as they +came along. + +The horses quickly scented danger, and started off, but were headed back +and driven at a wild tearing pace towards Garry and Glen. + +The pace became faster and Glen watched the horses as he rode at top +speed alongside them, and saw they were a good lot. He hoped their +vicious propensities had never been checked. They were all practically +unbroken. A few of them might have been handled and turned loose again, +but it was improbable. + +Towards the yards they went, the men shouting behind them. These yards +were erected with a view to driving horses, or cattle, into them with +the least trouble. They were at the end of a dried-up river between high +banks, whose strange formation Craig Bellshaw had taken advantage of. +The opening to the yards extended the whole width of the pass, and +there were three large gates through which horses entering the +cul-de-sac were bound to go. The difficulty was to head the wild horses +into the opening. Once in they were easily driven into the yards. + +As luck would have it, the leader of the mob headed direct for the spot, +guided by Garry on the one side, and Glen on the other. + +It was a stern chase, and it said much for the horses Garry supplied +that they kept pace with the galloping mob. As the leader rushed into +the narrow channel the rest followed him pell-mell. The men closed in +after them, driving them along at full speed, rushing them through +before they realised they were caught. When this happened the din was +tremendous. The trapped horses gave vent to their feelings by kicking, +squealing, and biting in an extraordinary manner. + +The men rested themselves and their horses and watched them. + +"There are pretty near fifty," said Garry. "They're a good-looking lot. +It's the recent rain's done it. They've had more to eat than they've +had for months past." + +"It will make them the harder to mount," replied Glen. + +"Suppose we give 'em a rest for a night, and try our luck to-morrow. +They'll have been without food for about eighteen hours, and it may tame +them down," Garry suggested. + +This was agreed to and they camped for the night close to the yards. + +Next morning business commenced in earnest. Likely looking horses were +separated from the rest, and then the struggle began. The bulk of them +were hard to saddle, still harder to mount, but it takes more than a +savage, untamed buckjumper to conquer a man from the West. + +There were some stiff fights, and now and again a horse more desperate +than the rest managed to rid himself of his rider after a long struggle. +He was at once selected by Glen as one of his lot. + +Glen Leigh excited the admiration of the men by the way he rode a +tremendous horse about six or seven years old. He was a rough untamed +animal, probably a son of old Tear'em, Garry said. At any rate he was +very like that incorrigible savage. He stood nearly seventeen hands, and +had the strength of half a dozen ordinary wild horses. + +It took them half an hour to get the saddle and bridle on, and Glen was +another ten minutes before he got into his saddle. + +The Boonara men never forgot that mighty struggle. They talked about it +for years after, whenever buckjumpers were mentioned. It easily broke +all records as far as they were concerned. + +The huge animal was a prince among buckjumpers, and Glen had all his +work cut out to keep his seat. The horse bounded up and down as though +his legs were springs. One moment he was off the ground, on all fours, +his back arched like a bended bow, the next his fore feet were planted +firmly on the ground and his hind quarters elevated almost to the +perpendicular. He twirled and twisted in an extraordinary fashion, lay +down, crushed Glen's leg, rushed against the fence, did everything to +throw his grim rider, but without avail. At last he stood covered in +sweat, and quivering in every limb. It was then that Glen dismounted, +but when he tried to get into the saddle he found the horse ready for +another battle-royal. + +"He'll do, Garry. If anyone can ride him in Sydney they'll earn any +prize that may be offered. What a magnificent brute he is. If one could +only tame him--but I expect that's impossible," said Glen. + +"By Gad, you can ride above a bit," was Garry's admiring comment. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE BIG SHOW + + +The horses selected were safely railed to Sydney. Bill Bigs had secured +stabling for them; such as it was it answered the purpose. They bore the +journey better than might have been expected, but there was some danger +and difficulty in getting them through the streets to Redfern. Once they +were safely housed Glen felt a difficult task was well done. + +He went to see Clara Benny. She welcomed him in her usual way, with a +smile and a kiss. These constant kisses embarrassed Glen, but he liked +them. They showed she had faith in him, and that gave him hope. He told +her where he had been, and what for, watching her closely all the time, +but there were no signs of recognition. Her memory in that direction was +still a blank. + +He had no doubt, after what he had heard and seen, that she was at +Mintaro with Craig Bellshaw, and that he had driven her away, after a +struggle with her, and left her to die a terrible death, which would +have happened had she not found her way to the hut. For this Bellshaw +should pay in full when the time came. Glen, however, had such a lot of +work in hand with the horses that he had no time for anything else. It +took a month to get them in hand so that they could be saddled quickly, +but their bucking propensities were encouraged in every way. They were +given full scope in this direction. Jim and Glen were constantly in the +saddle. The big horse threw them both more than once, until Glen fairly +mastered, but could not tame him. + +He was a big bay horse with a savage-looking head, and his strength was +great. + +They called him The Savage, which was appropriate, and he did not belie +his name. + +There were fourteen horses in all, and a cheque had been sent to Craig +Bellshaw for them. + +Jerry Makeshift came to a private exhibition, and was enthusiastic about +it. He gave the show valuable assistance in "The Sketch," spoke to many +of his press friends, and the buckjumpers were boomed well, so that +public excitement about them was roused to the highest pitch. + +The building was well adapted for the purpose. A ring was formed and +fenced in with stout posts and rails so that there would be no danger to +the spectators. On the opening night the place was packed. A challenge +had been issued. Two hundred pounds would be given to anyone who could +sit The Savage for ten minutes; assistance would be given to mount. +Fifty pounds was offered for riding half a dozen others, ten pounds for +the remainder, all ten minutes' spells. + +There were scores of men in Sydney and the surrounding districts who +thought they were equal to the various tasks set. + +Six well-known riders sent in their names. Two of them came from Wagga +with big reputations, and one from Bathurst. They all tried The Savage. +The horse had an easy task, for he was no sooner mounted than he shot +riders through the air like rockets. Not one of them made the semblance +of a fight with him. + +Then Glen Leigh's turn came. He sprang into the saddle without +assistance and the battle commenced. Round and round the ring The Savage +bucked in a series of furious leaps. He kicked, squealed, fought +desperately, tried to bite Glen's leg, but all in vain; he stuck to his +seat in splendid style. The Savage finding these tactics of no avail, +threw himself down. Glen slipped out of the saddle. As the horse +struggled to his feet he sprang on again amidst a hurricane of applause. +At the end of a quarter of an hour he concluded his exhibition, and when +he stood in the ring holding The Savage tight by the bridle, the people +cheered him to the echo, and the building rang with the shouts. The +other riders were exciting, but paled before the performance of Glen +Leigh and The Savage. + +As the crowd left the building everybody was asking who Glen Leigh was, +and where he came from. He was the most wonderful rider they had seen. + +Jerry Makeshift had not given Glen away. He reserved the account he +intended to publish for the issue following the opening night. He made +good use of the material he had in hand. It so happened that "The +Sketch" came out in the afternoon of the next day, and a full account of +the "keeper of the fence" was given and the manner in which he had +captured the horses and brought them to Sydney. + +It was the genuineness of the show that attracted the people, and the +place was crowded every night. Money came rolling in and the promoters +were in high spirits. + +Ivor Hadwin, Bellshaw's trainer, had been a great rider of rough, +unbroken horses on his father's station, before they fell on evil times, +were ruined by drought and moneylenders, and came to Sydney. On the +station he had ridden the worst of buckjumpers, and he thought with a +little practice he might be able to stick on The Savage for ten minutes +and win the two hundred pounds. For four nights running he succeeded in +riding the horses for the lowest prizes. Then he won one of fifty +pounds, and Glen Leigh complimented him. + +"You'll have to try for the two hundred," he said to Ivor. + +"That's what I mean to do." + +"Will you allow us to advertise it?" asked Glen. + +"Certainly," answered Hadwin. "I've no objections. You've treated me +well, and paid me the money I have won." + +"We shall always do that, and I hope you have to draw the two hundred, +but I warn you The Savage is a demon, and you'll have to keep your eyes +open," said Glen. + +"I believe at one time I could ride as well as you, but training has +made me a bit soft," replied Hadwin. + +Strange to say Glen Leigh did not know Hadwin was a trainer. No one told +him, probably taking it for granted that he knew. + +"You train racehorses?" asked Glen. + +"Yes, at Randwick. Come and see me one day." + +"With pleasure," said Glen. "Who do you train for?" + +Ivor Hadwin smiled. + +"I wonder someone has not told you about me," he said. + +"I never asked. There is such a heap of things to do I've had no time, +and it matters little who wins the prizes," returned Glen. + +"I train for Craig Bellshaw," said Ivor. + +Glen started. This was strange, especially as the horses all came from +Mintaro. + +"I know him," he said. + +"So do I, too well," answered Ivor. "He's a hard man to please." + +"I daresay he is," Glen agreed. + +Someone called him away and he left Hadwin, saying he would call and see +him next morning. + +"I'll be there. Come about eleven," said Ivor. + +"What night will you attempt to ride The Savage?" asked Glen, looking +back. + +"Saturday." + +"That's the best night for us, thanks." + +Glen told Bill what had passed between them when he reached The +Kangaroo. + +Jerry Makeshift was there. "You mean to say you didn't know until +to-night who Ivor Hadwin was?" he asked. + +"No." + +"And you made no enquiries?" + +"It didn't interest me. It was part of the show." + +"And no one enlightened you?" + +"No." + +"Well, I'm blessed. That's funny; everybody knows Hadwin. I'm told he's +likely to win the Caulfield Cup, or the Melbourne Cup, or both, for +Bellshaw," said Jerry. + +"Has Bellshaw some good horses?" enquired Glen. + +"Yes, about a dozen in all, I think, and four or five above the average, +but I don't go in for racing much. Tom Roslyn, of 'The Racing Life,' +told me. He's the best turf judge we have on the press, and he can pick +out good horses as easily as I can a bottle of wine." + +"Then he must be an uncommon judge," laughed Bill. + +"What's the name of the Cup horse?" asked Glen. + +"Barellan. He's five years old now, and has a nice weight, so Tom says. +I forget what it is," Jerry answered. + +"Here's Nick Gerard's list," put in Bill. "Barellan, 8st. 7lbs., in the +Melbourne Cup, 8st. 10lb. in the Caulfield Cup." + +"I'll ask Hadwin to let me have a look at him when I go there in the +morning," said Glen. + +"Have you bought a ticket in the big sweep on the Melbourne Cup yet?" +asked Jerry. + +"No, I forgot all about it," replied Glen. + +"I'll get one for you if you like," said Jerry. + +"I wish you would. Here's the money," and he handed him a sovereign. + +Jerry tossed it, "Heads a horse, tails a blank," he called. + +The coin fell on the table head up. + +"That's a fair start, anyhow. Let's hope it will be a good 'un you +draw." + +Glen laughed. + +"I haven't much faith in sweeps. I was never tempted to throw money away +in them." + +"Have one in the Caulfield Cup as well?" suggested Jerry. + +"No, that will be sufficient," returned Glen. "It's a sovereign gone to +the bad." + +"Don't be too sure about that; it's your maiden effort, and may prove +successful," said Jerry. + +"Get me a ticket at the same time," said Bill. + +"All right, and I hope when I call here with them it will bring luck to +The Kangaroo," answered Jerry. + +"I can do with the cash," said Glen laughing, "Bill's got heaps." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +MRS. PREVOST + + +Glen Leigh went by the train to Randwick, and walked to Hadwin's +stables. The trainer was glad to see him. He liked him; something hearty +about Glen appealed to him. + +"We'll have a look round the horses first, if you care to see them," +said the trainer. + +"That's just what I want," replied Glen. "I'm fond of horses. When I was +a keeper on the fence old Ping was my only companion. I've got him in +Sydney. He's the queerest horse out; you'd be amused at him. I don't +suppose you'd consider him worth a fiver, but it would take a good many +fivers to buy him." + +"A bush horse, I suppose?" + +"Yes, one of the best, a faithful old slave. We've been companions for +many years." + +"I like a man who's fond of horses. What a queer name--Ping." + +"And he's a queer horse," laughed Glen. + +They went round the stables. All the horses belonged to Craig Bellshaw; +they were a fair lot as far as Glen could judge. + +"That's Flash," said Ivor, pointing to a good-looking chestnut. "He's +rather smart." + +Glen eyed him over and came to the conclusion he was the best he had +seen so far. In the next box was Barellan. The brown horse looked well. +He was full of muscle, hard and clean. + +As they entered his box he turned and looked at them. When he saw the +trainer he seemed quite contented, knowing everything was all right when +he was there. + +"He's quiet enough," said Ivor. "Have a good look at him. He's a bit +different tempered from The Savage." + +"I hope so, for your sake," retorted Glen smiling, "or you stand a very +fair chance of being killed." + +"That's something to look forward to on Saturday night," Ivor answered. + +Glen went up to the horse and examined him well, passing his hand over +him, carefully taking in his points. It was difficult to find fault with +Barellan. If there was one it was his hocks, which were large and rather +unsightly, but there was nothing wrong with them. They were rather low +down, in the greyhound style. He had a splendid back and quarters, good +shoulders, neck and chest, a shapely head and a good forehead, and fine +eyes. He stood over sixteen hands. + +"What do you think of him?" Ivor asked. + +"He's a good-looking horse. He ought to gallop. He's built for it," +replied Glen. + +"So he can. He's the best I have by a long way, although some people +prefer Flash." + +"I don't," said Glen promptly. "He's in the Melbourne Cup, isn't he?" + +"Yes, in both Cups," said the trainer. + +"Will he go for them both?" + +"I don't know. It depends on the sweep-money, I expect. Bellshaw's +always insisted on having a cut out of the sweep with his horses." + +"I suppose that is a regular thing," said Glen. + +"Generally speaking it is, but he's greedy. He wants too much," Ivor +answered. + +Glen stayed to lunch, and they chatted about life in the West, and the +trainer told him about the doings at Randwick and elsewhere, interesting +him in some of the great horses and races he had seen. + +"I shall have a good try to win that two hundred on Saturday night," +said Ivor. + +"If you stick on for ten minutes you'll deserve it," replied Glen. "I'll +give you a bit of advice. If he throws you get out of the ring as quick +as you can, or he'll be on top of you before you know where you are." + +"He's not going to throw me," said the trainer confidently. + +Glen smiled. He had no wish to dishearten him, but he knew there was +little chance of his being successful. + +On Saturday night the building was crammed, every seat being taken. The +announcement that the well-known trainer, Ivor Hadwin, was going to +ride The Savage, and try to win the two hundred pounds, caused much +excitement. + +There were some good bouts before the event of the evening took place, +and when Ivor entered the ring he was loudly cheered. The trainer was +pleased with his reception. He had not received much of the world's +applause during his career. + +The way he mounted The Savage augured well for his success. The horse +appeared to know he had a man on his back who would give him "a good +game." For a moment The Savage stood still, then suddenly he sprang +straight into the air, all his feet off the ground, and his back arched. +Ivor had a severe wrench, but stuck to his seat. Round the ring the +horse went, backing and fighting in his most savage mood. + +Glen saw the horse was in a nasty temper and hoped the trainer would not +be hurt. That he would retain his seat for ten minutes he thought +impossible. + +Ivor Hadwin made no empty boast when he said at one time he believed he +rode as well as Glen Leigh. Considering the small amount of practice he +had his seat was splendid, and for five minutes The Savage tried in vain +to throw him. Glen, who was in the ring, encouraged him by frequent +shouts. + +Six minutes passed and still Hadwin was in the saddle, but Glen fancied +he saw signs that he was tiring. If this were so it was all up with his +chance. + +Again The Savage stood still, gathering his strength. His eyes rolled, +his nostrils were extended and red. Foam came from his mouth, but his +limbs were set, and there was no quivering. It was all determination, +and no excitement. + +Away he went again, round and round the ring, twisting and twirling, +leaping sideways, banging Hadwin against the posts. Then he went to the +centre of the ring, turned suddenly, galloped round at top speed. In a +moment he stopped dead and springing into the air gave a terrific buck, +squealing like a mad horse as he did so. + +The trainer was tired. The struggle had been tremendous, and the last +plunge proved too much for him. He was thrown clean out of the saddle, +and fell with a thud. Remembering Glen's warning to get out of the ring +as quickly as possible, he was scrambling to his feet, when The Savage +rushing at him, knocked him down, and trampled him with his forefeet. + +Glen Leigh sprang forward as soon as the trainer fell, and it was well +he did. He arrived just in the nick of time, before any more serious +injury than a few bruises was done. He seized The Savage by the bridle +and pulled him back, unconsciously showing his great strength; there was +a cheer as he held the brute in hand while the trainer left the ring. +Before The Savage had time to switch round Glen was in the saddle, and +another tussle took place, but it was an easy task for the rider this +time. The trainer had given the horse a severe dose, which had had due +effect. + +Glen dismounted and announced from the ring that a cheque for +twenty-five pounds would be handed Ivor Hadwin for the splendid way he +had handled The Savage; a roar of cheering greeted this generous offer. + +There was one woman in the vast audience who watched Glen Leigh all the +time he was in the ring. She was a dark, handsome, well dressed woman, +with fine eyes, a good figure, rather inclined to be stout, and she +evidently knew many people present. She had been several times, and had +always given her whole attention to Glen's performance with The Savage. +This alone appeared to interest her. + +She wished she knew him. She was about forty years of age, perhaps a +year or two older, and her life had been a peculiar one. She had married +at the age of eighteen, and her husband deserted her when she was +twenty. At this time she went as a barmaid in one of the numerous +private bars that then existed in Sydney. Some of these were veritable +dens of vice, but she kept herself respectable for several years. When +she was thirty she had saved sufficient money to take a small +boarding-house at North Shore. Shortly afterwards she was introduced to +Craig Bellshaw, and from North Shore she went to Macquarie Street; for +the last year she had lived at Manley. She did not like Bellshaw, but he +was useful to her and not ungenerous, and as he left her pretty much to +herself she was fairly contented. She was one of those women who, given +a better chance early in life, would probably have made good use of it. +She had plenty of confidence, boldness if you will, but she was not +vicious; her life was irreproachable, except for Bellshaw's coming into +it, and she lived quietly at Manley, with her maid, and a Chinaman cook, +who was a perfect marvel at concocting curious and succulent dishes. Her +name was Rosa Prevost, and her neighbours, although they did not quite +understand her, found her affable, generous and hospitable. In fact Mrs. +Prevost was popular in her surroundings. She knew Ivor Hadwin, through +Bellshaw, having been to the stables with him. If she wished to be +introduced to Glen Leigh the trainer would oblige her, but she did not +care to ask him; she was too proud. + +Her house at Manley was frequented by several well-known people such as +Jerry Makeshift, Tom Roslyn, and other journalists, and many actors and +actresses, several of whom knew her past life, and how she had been +treated in her young days. + +She was destined to have her desire for an introduction to Glen Leigh +fulfilled sooner than she expected. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +JEALOUSY + + +"Yes, I know Glen Leigh--a most interesting man," said Jerry Makeshift. + +He was at Sea View, Mrs. Prevost's house at Manley. She had invited him +there with the purpose to find out something about the daring rider of +The Savage. + +"Tell me about him. I admire his riding," she said. + +Jerry gave her a full account of Glen's career as far as he knew it. She +had read "The Sketch," but he embellished what he had written there for +her gratification. + +"So he was a keeper of the fence," she said thoughtfully. "Fancy a man +like that being exiled there. I wonder why he went?" + +"A woman probably," said Jerry. + +"That's always the way when a man banishes himself from society. It's +always a woman who is the cause," she said. + +"And don't you think nine times out of ten it is so?" he asked. + +"No, the man is often more to blame than the woman. Take my case." + +"Which is an exception," he said smiling. + +"Will you bring him here? I should like to meet him. Do you think he +would come?" + +"I'll try. He's not a shy man, but he doesn't go out much. Are you +anxious to know him?" asked Jerry. + +"He interests me," she answered. + +"Then I'll try and fix it up. Only promise me not to draw him into your +clutches; you are so fascinating. Look at me, I worship you." + +"Jerry, you're a humbug. You don't care a straw for anyone except +yourself," she laughed. + +"That's all you know. I have done some generous actions in my time, that +it won't do to speak about; it would sound too much like blowing my own +trumpet," he said. + +Jerry had some difficulty in inducing Glen Leigh to go to Manley, but +succeeded at last, and they went together. + +"Who is Mrs. Prevost?" asked Glen. + +Jerry explained as much as he thought proper. There was no occasion to +mention Bellshaw. If his name cropped up in conversation it would not be +his fault. + +Mrs. Prevost was agitated. She almost wished she had not asked Jerry to +bring him, and yet she was desirous of making Glen's acquaintance. +Already, before she knew him, he had a peculiar fascination for her. She +felt angry because it was so. The feeling was quite new and strange; +hitherto she had been cold and calculating. She knew all this would +vanish where Glen Leigh was concerned. + +They arrived before lunch, and when Glen saw Mrs. Prevost he was at once +struck with her peculiar charm of manner. No sooner was he in her +presence than all her doubts and agitation vanished, and she exerted +herself to her utmost to please him. + +Glen was quite willing to be pleased by this handsome woman, whose +preference for him was already beginning to be marked. + +Jerry smiled as he watched her. He knew her powers. No woman had ever +gone so near to capturing him as she, but he had steeled himself against +her. His career did not include a wife; he could not afford the luxury, +he said. + +It was a nice luncheon. Glen thoroughly enjoyed it, and complimented +Mrs. Prevost on the possession of such an excellent cook. + +"He's a Chinaman," she said smiling. "One of the despised heathens, but +I have had him several years, and he has served me well. I found him." + +"Found him!" exclaimed Glen. + +"Yes. It's quite correct; strange though it seems." + +"Where did you find him?" + +"Some years ago when he was quite young. He lived with his uncle in +Lower George Street. He offended the great man in some way, and he +turned him out of the house. He was wandering about when I came along. +He spoke to me, pleaded hard for me to make him my servant. Strange, +was it not? Something prompted me to take him in. I did, and have never +regretted it. He appears to have one set purpose in life, to pay his +uncle, Lin Soo, back in his own coin, and have his revenge. Most +unchristian-like isn't it? But of course he's a heathen," she said +laughing. + +"Lin Soo is his uncle!" said Glen. + +"Yes. Why? Do you know him?" + +"Not exactly, but I know of him. He keeps an infamous den in Lower +George Street." + +"I thought it was a tea shop," she said. + +"To outward appearances, but inside it's an opium den, a gambling hell, +and worse," Glen replied. + +"Worse!" she exclaimed enquiringly. + +Glen did not care to pursue the subject and she asked no further +questions. + +No mention was made of Craig Bellshaw, and Glen left, not knowing she +was intimate with the squatter. He promised to call again. She knew by +his ready acceptance that she had made a favourable impression, and she +was more pleased than she had been for many a day. She walked to the +steamer with them, and when the boat left sat down on a seat at one side +of the wharf. Why should she not have her share of happiness in life? It +had been denied her so far. There had been riotous living, and much +pleasure, but no peace, no contentment. It was all a struggle, and part +of a game which she had been forced to play, but never cared for. + +She walked slowly back to her house, thinking all the time, hoping, +wishing as she had never wished before. If a man like Glen Leigh had +come into her life years ago, how different everything would have been. +She felt she had great capacity for making a man she loved happy. She +was in the prime of life, good-looking, robust, full of health and +spirits, and she did not lack money. Why should she not find a fitting +mate? A man who would condone the past, forget, or shut his eyes to it, +and love her for herself. Glen Leigh was a man after her own heart, the +stamp of man she had always admired. No matter what he thought of her, +or whether they were merely acquaintances, she would never forget him. +She made a firm resolve to try and win him; she would exert all her +powers to that end. She craved for the real love of a man to meet the +love she knew she had to give. It would not be half-hearted love or cold +surrender. She wanted the real thing, not a sham. She had had too much +of shams; she was sick of them. She longed for honesty, not deception, +pretence, lies. There was Craig Bellshaw. He must be made to understand +that she desired to sever all connections with him. She would write and +tell him so. If he insisted on seeing her for a personal explanation she +supposed she must grant him an interview, but it would be the last; she +vowed it. + +Glen Leigh little knew the storm of feeling he had raised in Mrs. +Prevost. Had anyone told him he would have laughed at the idea. In +answer to Jerry he said he thought Mrs. Prevost a very nice woman. + +"Handsome, eh?" said Jerry. + +"Yes, and she's a jolly good sort I should say." + +"So she is. I wonder some fellow hasn't snapped her up long ago," Jerry +answered. + +"She's better as she is," said Glen. + +"Not she. In her case I should say she ought to have a mate. She looks a +woman who could make a man happy." + +"There's no telling," declared Glen gloomily. + +The Buckjumping Show was a huge success, and a large ground had been +taken for it in Melbourne for a month, during which time the Caulfield +and Melbourne Cups would be decided. + +Glen was surprised when his share was calculated by Bill Bigs. It was +far more than he had expected in his most sanguine moments. Jim Benny +was given a bonus with which he was more than contented. Nearly all +Jim's spare time was spent with Clara, who was in perfect health, and +had developed into a very pretty woman. Her mind, however, was still a +blank as regards everything before she came to Glen Leigh's hut. Glen +thought some sudden shock might restore the lost memories. At the same +time the effect might be serious. Probably it would be better for her +peace to remain as she was. Glen's feelings towards her were difficult +to analyse. He knew by the way she always greeted him that she regarded +him as a father. At first he thought he loved her, but gradually this +feeling lessened, and he knew it was pity and compassion that had grown +in him, not love. He was more solicitous towards her than he had ever +been, spoke kindly, looked after her every comfort, and she trusted and +idolised him--but not as a lover. + +With Jim it was different. He was younger than Glen, and there was no +doubt about his affection for her. She treated him differently from +Glen, was more reserved, never kissed him; she shrank away when he came +too near, and was nervous in his presence. + +Jim noticed all this and misunderstood. He thought her love was all for +Glen Leigh, and this embittered him. He had not the strength of +character of the elder man, could not stand trials so well, was soon +cast down and dispirited. He had seen her kiss Glen when they met--she +always did--and yet when he came near her she shrank away. + +Glen seemed to get the best out of life, while he, Jim, had hardly +anything to look forward to. + +He forgot what Glen had done for him. A growing jealousy rose against +his comrade; such feelings were easily roused in him. + +"I must know what he means, what she means," said Jim to himself. "It's +torturing me. I can't stand it--I won't." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +A QUESTION OF JOCKEYS + + +Craig Bellshaw's life at Mintaro was a burden to him; if his time had +not been occupied there is no telling what might have happened. During +the day he was constantly out of doors, but at night, his lonely dinner +ended, he sat down and brooded. There were many actions in his life that +would not bear the searchlight. He did not regret them; he was hardened. +What he missed was the presence of a woman. It could not be called +companionship, because he never gave his friendship fully to anyone. It +would soon be time for him to go to Sydney and see his horses do their +work for the big Victorian Meeting. He had great hopes of Barellan +winning the Melbourne Cup, and thought Flash had a chance in the +Caulfield Race. He heard from his trainer regularly, and the reports +were favourable. Letters for Mintaro were left at Boonara by the mail +coach which came twice a week. + +He read the account of the buckjumping exhibition, and begrudged Bill +Bigs and Glen Leigh their success. They were his horses; why had he not +thought of such a show and run it himself? He always begrudged fortune's +favours to others. + +He had been uneasy ever since he found the piece of paper with Lin Soo +written on it pushed under his door. He tried to persuade himself it +meant nothing, but he knew different. It was a warning and he wondered +how much Glen Leigh knew. Then there was Garry Backham. He must see him +before he went to Sydney and find out how the land lay in that quarter. + +His man brought the post-bag and placed it on the table. Craig unlocked +it and took out the letters and papers. He opened one from Ivor Hadwin, +who gave favourable accounts of the progress of all his horses, and +prophesied a successful campaign in Victoria. Barellan was specially +mentioned. No horse could be doing better; he had come on by leaps and +bounds and was at least ten pounds better than when he ran at Randwick. + +"If he is he'll win the Cup," said Craig. + +He placed the letter on one side to answer; the post-bag had to be at +Boonara next day. There were several bills, some circulars, newspapers, +and one or two packages. A letter, directed in a lady's hand, claimed +his attention. He knew the writing; it was from Mrs. Prevost. + +"She wants more money, I suppose," he muttered. "She'll have to want. +I've been too openhanded with her, and she's not a bit grateful. Women +never are." + +As he read the letter his face became gloomy: it was not pleasant to +look at. The contents angered him. She expressed her intention of +severing all connection with him, said she had no desire to see him +again, and much more to the same effect. + +Craig Bellshaw was in a rage. He considered Mrs. Prevost a useful +adjunct to his visits to Sydney. There was always a house to go to, +where he could be sure of comfort, and the presence of a woman who was +good to look upon; and now she coolly said she had no desire to see him +again. There were no words of apology or respect. She repudiated the +bargain, or what he considered the bargain, between them. There must be +some solid reason for it, and the only one he could think of was another +man. She would find he was not to be treated in this cavalier fashion. +Some men might stand it; he would not. + +He made up his mind to go to Sydney at once. There were plenty of hands +at Mintaro, and his new overseer would look to things. He announced his +intention of going next day. + +He started in the early morning, arriving at Boonara about eleven +o'clock; from there he would take the coach to Bourke. He went to Garry +Backham's, and asked him if there was anything he could do for him in +Sydney. + +"He's mighty polite," thought Garry, "there's some mischief afoot." + +They talked for some time, and Craig said. "About the money I lent you +to buy this place, I've thought it over; you're welcome to it. You were +always reliable when you were with me and did your work well." + +"He's changed his tune," thought Garry. + +"You can consider yourself free of that debt," said Craig. + +"I thought you'd come round to my way of thinking," replied Garry, who +knew well enough why he had suddenly become generous. + +"It was always my intention to make you a present of it," Craig +declared. + +"Then why didn't you do it at first?" + +"Because I wished to see what sort of man you were, and how you'd take +it." + +"Glen Leigh and Bill Bigs have done well in Sydney with the show," said +Garry. + +"It's lucky they got some of my horses. He seems to have picked out the +right sort." + +"Trust him for that. The fellow they call The Savage is a ripper. He's +by old Tear'em, I'll swear. I never saw such a brute, but Leigh mastered +him as soon as he was yarded." + +"Everybody seems to think he's a wonderful man," said Craig. + +"So he is. They're few and far between," answered Garry. "I see your +horses are doing good work for the Cups. Do you fancy them?" + +"Barellan and Flash both have chances." + +"I've got a couple of tickets in the sweep on the Melbourne Cup," said +Garry. + +"If you draw Barellan I shall expect you to stump up a good round sum +out of your lot," Bellshaw told him. + +"You'll get nothing out of me if I draw him, but it's about a million to +one I don't," retorted Garry. + +"Whoever draws him will have to give me a cut out of the sweep or +they'll stand a poor chance of getting a run for their money," said +Craig. + +"You don't mean to say you'd scratch Barellan for a race like the +Melbourne Cup merely because you were not offered anything out of the +sweep?" Garry asked. + +"I would. No man shall get the better of me. It's only fair. I have all +the expense incurred over the horse." + +"Then you're not much of a sportsman." + +"Just as good as anyone else," returned Craig. + +"Well, if I happen to draw him you can scratch him. You'll not get me to +lay you anything," said Garry. + +When Bellshaw arrived in Sydney he went to Hadwin's house at Randwick, +where there was always a room for him. The trainer would have preferred +his staying elsewhere, but could raise no objections. The horses pleased +him, Barellan especially. He seemed in rare fettle, and the trainer said +no horse could possibly have done better. + +"You'll have to look out for a jockey soon, or they'll all be snapped +up. There is likely to be a big field, thirty runners or thereabouts," +said Ivor. + +"What about Nicholl?" + +"He'd be all right if you could get him." + +"Is he engaged?" + +"Not that I know of." + +"Then what's to prevent me engaging him?" + +Hadwin hesitated, then said, "He'll want a big fee." + +"And can't I pay it?" thundered Bellshaw. + +"You can pay it. The question is will you?" said the trainer. + +"If it's reasonable. What will he want?" + +"A hundred at least." + +"Then he'll not get it. I'm not going to pay any jockey a hundred, win +or lose. If Barellan wins it's a different matter." + +"Shall I see him about it or will you?" asked Ivor. + +"You'd better see him. If he asked me that figure there's no telling +what I'd say to him," Bellshaw answered. + +Hadwin saw Nicholl on the training ground next morning. Bellshaw was +there, standing some distance away. + +"Will you ride Barellan in the Melbourne Cup?" asked Ivor. + +"What sort of a chance has he?" + +"A winning chance. You can have the leg up on him this morning; he's +just coming out." + +"All right," agreed Nicholl. + +"Then come with me," said the trainer. + +When Barellan came out with Nicholl up there was a stir among the +watchers. Luke Nicholl was one of the best jockeys. There were few to +equal him, and it was known he had not a mount in the Cup, as he +declined to tie himself down. His appearance on Barellan at once set +tongues wagging as to the possibility of his riding the horse in the +Cup. Nicholl liked the way Barellan moved. He knew he was a good game +animal, and 8st. 7lb. was a nice weight. He could do it comfortably. + +"He moves well," said Nicholl, when he dismounted. + +"You'll find him a far different horse in a race. He's not a track +horse," said Ivor. "Will you accept the mount?" + +"It all depends." + +"What on?" + +"The amount to be paid me." + +"What do you want?" + +"A couple of hundred." + +"Win or lose?" + +"Yes." + +"He'll never give that. I doubt if he'll give a hundred, but come over +to my place and talk it over. I'd like you to be on him, Luke, because I +think he'll just about win," said the trainer. + +"You can't expect me to ride him without I get a good fee," answered +Nicholl. "I'm worth it, eh?" + +"You are, and if I had the arranging of it I'd give you fair terms. +You'll just suit Barellan; he wants a lot of riding. He's a lazy beggar, +and you know how to handle such horses." + +"When shall I come over?" + +"After breakfast." + +"I'll be there soon after nine," said Nicholl, "but you can tell him I +must have my price. I've not worked my way to the top of the ladder +without trouble, and I mean to get what I'm worth." + +"I'll do my best, but don't be hasty over it, or you'll regret it," +replied Ivor. + +Something in the trainer's earnest manner appealed to the jockey. + +"We've always been friends," he said. "I'd like to ride a big winner for +you." + +"Then ride Barellan. He's one of the best horses I ever saw," said the +trainer. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +MRS. PREVOST'S DILEMMA + + +There was a tough skirmish when Nicholl met Craig Bellshaw at Hadwin's, +but eventually the owner of Barellan gave way, mainly owing to his +trainer's representations and persuasion, and settled with the jockey to +ride both his horses, Flash at Caulfield, and Barellan at Flemington, +for two hundred, win or lose, five per cent. on the stakes, and five per +cent. on any sweep money that might be forthcoming. Having fixed this +up, with a good deal of grumbling, Bellshaw set out for Manley to see +Mrs. Prevost, who was not aware he was in Sydney. + +Bellshaw was in a bad temper. Things were all awry, and even the thought +of winning the Melbourne Cup with Barellan did not soothe him. It was a +disagreeable surprise to Mrs. Prevost when she heard who her visitor +was. + +Bellshaw made no bones about the matter. He asked her what she meant by +writing him such a letter after all he had done for her; he upbraided +her in no measured terms, used harsh names, and behaved somewhat +brutally. It was his way with women. + +She resented his conduct and replied forcibly. He saw she was +determined, and this angered him still more. There was a scene, they +lost their tempers, and mutual recriminations were the result. Mrs. +Prevost was expecting Glen Leigh for lunch and wished to get rid of +Bellshaw before he arrived. She dreaded their meeting, not on his +account, but for the effect it might have on Leigh, and her influence +with him. Bellshaw, however, did not seem in any hurry to go. He was +loth to give her up; in his way he liked her. + +"The fact is," he said, "you've taken up with someone else. I warn you +he shall know all about you." + +"You are cad enough to do that?" she asked. + +"You can call me names if you wish; I don't care, but I'll make it +mighty unpleasant for you," he said. + +There was a ring at the front door. Mrs. Prevost was at her wits' end +how to act. It was no doubt Glen Leigh. + +She left the room hurriedly, and opened the door herself. It was Glen +Leigh. She took him into the front room, and said her maid had just gone +out; she promised to return in a few minutes, and left him. + +Glen thought this strange. She was agitated; something must have upset +her. He wondered what it was. + +Craig Bellshaw also wondered why she had gone out of the room. He heard +her open the door, and someone come in. Who was it? The voice sounded +like a man's. + +She gave him a hint that he had better be going. + +"Not until I have seen who your visitor is," he said. + +"If I have a visitor it is no business of yours," she retorted. + +"It is. I am still interested in you even if you treat me badly," he +said. + +What was she to do? How could she prevent a meeting between him and Glen +Leigh? She cudgelled her brains but was at a loss to find a plan. +Bellshaw did not seem inclined to move. + +Glen Leigh waited a quarter of an hour and became restless. What +detained her? He heard voices in the next room, but could not +distinguish who was speaking. Perhaps she had a visitor. If so, why did +she not tell him? + +"I must ask you to leave my house," she said desperately. + +Bellshaw laughed. + +"Your house?" he sneered. + +"Yes, mine. You did not know I had bought it." + +"Have you paid for it?" + +"I have, if that's any consolation to you." + +"And you wish me to believe that? I wonder where you got the money +from?" + +"It was my money. I am not without means," she answered indignantly. + +He laughed as he got up, but there was an evil look in his eyes. + +"I'll go. I don't wish to interfere with your pleasures, or any +conquests you may make, but I've not done with you, I promise you that," +said Bellshaw. + +He took up his hat and opened the door. She followed him. Would he go +into the front room? + +Her heart beat fast. She felt faint. It was a trying moment. + +Glen Leigh might see him leave the house, but he would not know who he +was; if Bellshaw saw him there was no telling what might happen. + +Bellshaw passed the door of the room, opened the front door, and walked +away without saying another word, or even raising his hat. It was a +tremendous relief now he was gone; she waited a few minutes to regain +her composure, and then with a faint smile, entered the front room. + +Glen Leigh was looking out of the window; he recognised Craig Bellshaw +and was so astonished he did not hear her open the door. Scores of +questions crowded into his mind as he saw the owner of Mintaro walking +away; the main questions were how came he to Mrs. Prevost's, and for +what purpose? + +She saw Glen with his back turned to her, and knew he had seen her +visitor; she was not aware Leigh knew him, and of his doings elsewhere +of which she was in ignorance; she had, as yet, no conception of the +depths of infamy to which Bellshaw had sunk. + +"I am sorry to keep you waiting so long, but I had a visitor," she said. + +"I saw him leave the house," said Glen, turning sharply round. + +"He's an old friend; I have known him many years." She could not make +him out. He was looking at her steadily; his eyes seemed to pierce her. + +"I know him," said Glen quietly. "I did not expect to see him in _your_ +house." + +"You know him!" she exclaimed aghast, the colour deserting her cheeks. + +"Yes. Do you know him well?" he asked. + +"Yes, but why do you ask in such a strange way?" + +"I do not think you know what Craig Bellshaw really is. I am sure you do +not. If you did he would never have been admitted to your house," said +Glen. + +What was she about to hear? She must learn more; how was she to excuse +herself to him? What if he and Bellshaw met? There would be revelations, +her backsliding would be magnified a hundred times; she must have the +first say no matter what it cost her. + +"What is he?" she asked. + +"A bad man, almost a murderer. I dare not tell you what has happened at +Mintaro. You would be overwhelmed with shame to think you ever had +dealings with, or ever took the hand of such a man," said Glen +seriously. + +She looked very charming in her distress. Even Glen Leigh would have +been very dense had he failed to see the appeal in her eyes, or to +recognise that she liked him very much indeed. + +No woman had ever appealed to him quite in the same way as Mrs. +Prevost; he had thought a good deal about her since he saw her last. + +"Tell me about him," she said. + +"What was he doing here?" asked Glen who doubted everything where Craig +Bellshaw was concerned. + +"He came to see me, not at my request, but I was not surprised. I had +written to him at Mintaro telling him--" she hesitated. + +Glen waited. Should he help her out? He thought he could. Rage was +surging up in him, not against Mrs. Prevost, but against Bellshaw. Was +she another of his victims? + +That was hardly possible; yet there were unmistakable signs of acute +distress at the situation in which she was placed. As Glen thought, a +sudden wave of feeling overwhelmed him, and would not be beaten back. He +loved this woman. By some strange fatality Bellshaw was connected with +her as he had been with the other woman. He felt a mad desire to rush +after Bellshaw and kill him. This passed in a few seconds; then he said, +in answer to her hesitation, "Telling him you never wished to see him +again." + +She looked at him in great surprise, feeling intense relief. This man +understood her, because he knew Craig Bellshaw for what he was. Already +he had forgiven her without the asking. He did not blame her, but the +man. In that case he guessed some of the truth and the rich blood +crimsoned her cheeks. She bowed her head; then she looked straight at +him and said, "That is what I wrote him--that I never wished to see him +again. I ordered him to leave the house, my house, when you saw him go. +I will never admit him again." + +"I am glad of that," said Glen. "Very glad. When did you write to him?" + +It was the truth she would tell him. + +"The day after you came here with Jerry," she said. + +Glen smiled. + +"What decided you to write?" he asked. + +"You did." + +Again he smiled. + +"I wonder how that happened?" he said. + +"Can't you guess?" she answered in a low voice. + +"No, at least not yet. Later on I'll try--with your permission." + +"You have it now. I want a friend--like you." + +"You don't think he'd dare to come here again?" asked Glen savagely. + +"There is no telling what he might do. Try and avoid him." + +"Why should I?" + +"He's a dangerous man." + +Glen laughed. + +"I'm more than a match for him in many ways," he replied. + +After lunch she asked him to tell her about Craig Bellshaw. + +"I will tell you one terrible thing which I believe to be quite true," +he said. "I am waiting to find out. It is a matter of time, and you must +promise not to repeat what I tell you." + +She readily gave her promise and he told her in a graphic narrative all +about the woman who came to his hut, what happened there, and since her +recovery. He concealed nothing, not even about Lin Soo. He thought, in +justice, she ought to know what manner of man Craig Bellshaw was. + +As she listened, horrified, believing every word, she felt deeply +humiliated when she thought what Bellshaw had been in her life; she +shuddered with repulsion. + +"Bring her here," she said. "Let her be my companion. I may be able to +call back her lost memories. I will love her for all she has suffered. +You will trust her with me, will you not?" + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE DRAWER OF BARELLAN + + +They decided to allow Clara to go to Mrs. Prevost's, and Glen took her +there. She was given a kindly welcome. Mrs. Prevost was glad to have +her, liked her at once. The feeling was mutual. Glen felt he had left +her in good hands, that she would be happy and comfortable. + +"Don't let Bellshaw see her if by any chance he calls," said Glen, "but +he will be going to Melbourne for the Cup meetings, and our show leaves +to-morrow. I shall not see you again for several weeks." + +"I shall look forward to your return. I hope you will do well there," +she answered. + +"I think we shall. There is no reason why we should not do even better +than in Sydney." + +As Glen was leaving, having bid good-bye to Clara, he said, "On my +return I may have something to tell you; something which I hope will be +for our happiness." + +She smiled brightly, guessing what he meant. There was a prospect of +sailing into a peaceful harbour after a stormy life. Glen Leigh was +indeed a man. He had not even questioned her about the past, or her +relations with Bellshaw. + +The horses, and all the paraphernalia of the show, went to Melbourne by +steamer, Glen and Jim going with them. During the short voyage Glen +thought Jim taciturn and ill-tempered. He asked him the cause. + +"I'm sick of life," said Jim, "I never seem to get anything out of it. +You and Bill have all the luck." + +"I don't think you've done so badly," objected Glen, "and now you have a +share in the show. What more do you want?" + +"A good deal more. I want happiness, and I don't seem in the way of +getting it." + +"Why not? What troubles you? Tell me, lad; I may be able to help you." + +Then, as they sat on deck, Jim poured out the vials of his ill-tempered +wrath on Glen's head. He told how he loved Clara, but that she avoided, +shunned him. He complained that it was very hard lines he, Glen, should +come between them. For a long time he went on grumbling, and Glen +listened to him patiently not saying a word. He let him exhaust himself +before he made any reply. + +"Jim, you're a fool," said Glen. "When she first came across my path and +found her way to my hut, as I sat and nursed her back to life, you +helping me, I thought I loved her. I was sure of it. That same feeling +possessed me when we came to Sydney. It remained with me until something +happened which opened my eyes, something totally unexpected. She put her +arms round my neck and kissed me." + +"I know," said Jim. "I know. She always does. She loves you." + +Glen smiled as he said, "You're a bit shallow, Jim. You can't see far. I +knew when she kissed me she would never love me like that, so I gave it +up. She regarded me as a father, that was all, and I'm quite contented +she should. I've found out the feeling I had for her was not that of a +lover. I love her, I always shall, because I rescued her from death. +It's only natural. You've no need to fear me as a rival. I love another +woman, not her." + +Jim's face brightened. He knew Glen spoke the truth; he always did. It +clouded again as he thought how she avoided him. + +"The reason she doesn't kiss you," said Glen, "is because she feels +different towards you. She doesn't think it would be right. I've watched +her, and I think if she does not love you now she will in days to come. +She'll miss you when you are away from her in Melbourne. Probably she'll +talk to Mrs. Prevost about you. Wait till you come back and then see how +the land lies. She's not fit to marry yet, not strong enough. It will be +better to wait until she recovers her memory." + +"She may never recover it," said Jim. + +"She will, I'm sure of it, and through Mrs. Prevost, who will help her. +She's a sympathetic woman, and I told her all about it, everything. +She'll do all in her power to bring back her lost memory; she said she +would," Glen answered. + +After this conversation Jim was a different man. + +All along he had been jealous of Glen; now the cause was removed. +Sometimes he gave a thought to Joe Calder, but he felt no regret for +what he had done; the man had brought it on himself. + +"If I hadn't shot him he'd have done for me," said Jim to himself. + +The show arrived safely in Melbourne, and opened in a large tent on the +St. Kilda Road. Crowds flocked to it, and before the first week was over +Glen knew they were in for an even better season than in Sydney. They +started business the Saturday before the Caulfield Cup. The tent was +packed every night, and sometimes twice a day. + +Ivor Hadwin arrived at Caulfield with his horses, Barellan, Flash, and a +couple of others. + +Betting on the two Cups was brisk, and Barellan was well backed by the +public at a hundred to eight. + +Bellshaw had been laid a fair sum to nothing by the drawer of Flash in +the Caulfield Cup Sweep. + +The first Hundred Thousand Pound Sweep on the Melbourne Cup was to be +drawn in Sydney on Monday night. + +When Glen Leigh was informed he laughed, and said, "I don't set much +account on it. A fellow can't expect to get anything with one ticket in +a hundred thousand." + +There was a tremendous race for the Caulfield Cup, and Flash ran third, +being beaten by Roland and Mackay. + +Flash ran a remarkably fast race. Ivor Hadwin hardly thought him good +enough to win and he died away a furlong from the post. Knowing what +Barellan could do with Flash on the track, the trainer told Nicholl he +thought the Melbourne Cup was pretty nearly as good as won. + +The result of the drawing for the Hundred Thousand Pound Sweep on the +Melbourne Cup was made public on the Wednesday. Glen Leigh received a +wire from Bill Bigs which fairly astonished him. + +"You have drawn Barellan. Good luck, Bill." + +This was astounding news indeed. He had only one ticket in the sweep, +number 33444, and it had drawn Barellan, third favourite for the great +race. Was there ever such a stroke of luck! Glen could hardly believe in +his good fortune. Barellan was Bellshaw's horse which made it more +remarkable still. All his friends connected with the show crowded round +congratulating him. He was regarded as a kind of hero. The first prize +was close upon twenty-five thousand pounds, and there were numerous +other large and small sums to be divided. He was bound to get one of the +first three big prizes with such a horse as Barellan running for him, so +said everybody who knew him. + +Ivor Hadwin heard the news with mixed feelings; he was glad Leigh had +drawn the horse, but wondered what would happen if he declined to give +Craig Bellshaw a cut out of the sweep money. It was impossible to keep +the fact that Leigh had drawn Barellan a secret, nor had he any wish it +should be so. + +"I've drawn the horse; where's the harm in people knowing it?" said +Glen. + +Bill Bigs arrived in Melbourne, and consulted with Glen as to what was +best to be done. + +Bill advised him to lay some of it against Barellan. He could stand to +win a large sum to nothing, and if the horse lost he would also be a +winner. Glen, however, was adamant on this point. He declared he would +not lay off a penny; he'd stand the thing right out. + +"It's only cost me a pound," he said. "That's not much, and I'd sooner +go the whole hog and win the lot, if Barellan wins. If he loses I shall +not grumble." + +"Please yourself," said Bill. "From all I hear you stand a good chance +of pulling it off at the first time of asking. It's an extraordinary +piece of luck, that's what it is. I know fellows who have been going in +for sweeps for years and have never drawn a horse. I've been doing it +for a dozen years, and all I ever got was a non-starter." + +"You shall have a couple of hundred if Barellan wins," said Glen. "So +shall Jim, and I'll see Hadwin and Nicholl have a trifle." + +"You're distributing the cash before you've won," laughed Bill. + +"Half the fun of things is to anticipate, and plan out what you'll do +with the money," Glen laughed back. + +"So it is. I've drawn some nice little pictures myself, but they've +always been rubbed out, not so much as a daub remaining," said Bill. + +When Glen met Hadwin, the trainer asked, "I suppose you've not heard +from Bellshaw?" + +"No. What do I want to hear from him for?" replied Glen. + +Hadwin smiled. + +"You've not had much experience of sweeps. Owners generally expect a +good slice out of them," he said. + +"If Bellshaw expects to get me to lay him a big slice he's mistaken. I +shan't lay him a penny," replied Glen determinedly. + +"For goodness' sake don't say that," expostulated Hadwin in genuine +alarm. + +"Why not? I mean it." + +"It will ruin me, Leigh, ruin me. I've backed Barellan for all I'm +worth, or nearly so," said the trainer. + +"Well, my drawing him in the sweep won't stop him winning." + +"No, I don't mean that. I think he will win, but if you don't lay +Bellshaw a fair sum, there's no telling what he'll do." + +"What can he do?" asked Glen, surprised. + +"Scratch him," said Hadwin in a low tremulous voice. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +LAME + + +Craig Bellshaw soon heard who was the drawer of Barellan in the great +Melbourne Cup Sweep. Glen Leigh held the ticket. He smiled wickedly. He +had found out that Glen had been a welcome visitor at Mrs. Prevost's. So +this was the man who had supplanted him. He wished him joy of his +bargain; he'd find it pretty expensive. No doubt it was Leigh who called +when he, Bellshaw, was ordered out of the house. If he had only known he +would have enlightened him there and then; he intended doing so at the +first favourable opportunity. He'd make it particularly hot and sultry +for Mrs. Prevost, put a spoke in her wheel that even Glen Leigh would +not care to try and pull out. A keeper of the fence, a common showman, a +rider of buckjumpers, to be ousted by such a man--it made Craig +Bellshaw writhe. He did not call at Sea View before he left for +Melbourne; there was time enough. He'd put in an appearance when he had +fairly choked Leigh off, made him sick of the whole business. He hated +him, he hated Mrs. Prevost for throwing him over, and he vowed vengeance +against them. Leigh had thwarted him in many ways when he had been on +the fence. Bellshaw recalled how on one occasion he had given him the +lie direct at a meeting held at Boonara, and had proved his statement up +to the hilt. This had lessened the owner of Mintaro's prestige +considerably, and he had not forgiven it. + +Glen Leigh had drawn Barellan. Bellshaw chuckled, a curious gurgling +sound, more like the growling of a dog. This decided him. He had +returned to Sydney after the Caulfield Cup; he didn't care for +Melbourne. He took train back again as soon as he heard who had drawn +Barellan in the sweep. + +He always stayed at Scott's. He walked there from Spencer Street +Station, along Collins Street. + +"Hallo, Bellshaw, back again?" + +It was Nick Gerard who, for a wonder, was in that part of the town. + +"You, Nick. What's the news?" + +"I expect you know it all; you're never much behind the times where your +interests are concerned. By Gad, perhaps you don't know; it only +happened this morning. When did you arrive?" + +"I've just come in by the express. What's up?" + +"Your horse, Barellan." + +"Well?" + +"He went lame on the track at Flemington this morning, limped away +badly, and it's the week before the race. He'll not have much time to +pull round. I'm sorry for you. It's deuced bad luck, but you can stand +it. I'm more sorry for that chap, Glen Leigh, who drew him in the sweep. +It's rough on him. I like him; he's the best roughrider I ever saw. I'm +open to bet there isn't a bucker in Australia can get rid of him in a +quarter of an hour. I told him I'd bet a level thousand, two thousand +if anybody wanted it, and give him half if he won," said Nick. + +"My horse lame!" exclaimed Bellshaw, ignoring the latter part of Nick's +remarks. + +"Dead lame, from all accounts. I didn't see him, but I met Luke Nicholl +in Bourke Street, and he told me. He was on his back, so he ought to +know," said the bookmaker. + +"Damn him! He'd no right to say anything about it, especially to a +bookmaker," cried Bellshaw angrily. + +"And pray why not? What have I done? The fact will be in all the evening +papers. Most men I met at the Club were talking about it." + +"Were they? It's a den of thieves," almost shouted Bellshaw, in his +anger. + +"You're talking rot," said Nick, who knew his man. He also had a fairly +thick skin, and such remarks failed to penetrate it. "Have you been +playing 'solo' all the way from Sydney and losing, or what's ruffled +you?" + +"I never play 'solo' or hazards," sneered Bellshaw. + +"Well, I do, and I'm considered a fairly good hand at the former. As to +hazards, I'll not say much about that. I'm out on the green cloth, out a +biggish sum, but I can't leave off. It's in my blood. I must throw the +dice sometimes," said Nick. + +"More fool you. Where are you going?" + +"To the Federal." + +Bellshaw smiled grimly. + +"What have you got there? Is she nice? bewitching? or just an ordinary +filly?" he asked. + +"It's a man, a dashed clever fellow, but he's one failing, and it's got +fairly hold of him since he's been in Melbourne this time. I've known +him come here and never touch a drop the whole blessed time, but he's +been knocked out this trip. I'd like to find out the beggar who led him +on. I'd give him a piece of my mind," said Nick hotly. + +"Haven't you enough to do without wasting your time over a boozer?" + +"He's always been a friend of mine; he's done all his expenses in, and +hasn't a bean. I mean to see him through, if he'll promise to keep +straight until the meeting's over." + +"And do you suppose he will?" sneered Bellshaw. + +"Yes, if he gives me his word," replied Nick. + +"You're blessed with an uncommon amount of faith," said Bellshaw. + +"And you've got none, not even in yourself. If you'd any pluck you'd not +squeal because Barellan's gone lame. He may pull round. Hadwin's a +clever man with dicky horses." + +"He's an ass or he'd not have galloped the horse to a standstill. I told +him he was giving him too much work." + +"I'm more sorry for him than you," said the bookmaker. + +Bellshaw laughed cynically, ignored the remark and asked, "Who's your +sick friend at the Federal?" + +"Jerry Makeshift, of 'The Sketch,' one of the best, the very best, a +jewel with only one flaw in it." + +"A gem of the first water, with whiskey in it," jeered Bellshaw. + +"And supposing he is? That's better than being a grinding, snarling, +miserable money-grubber," retorted Nick. + +"Who's in a bad temper now?" asked Bellshaw. + +"You're enough to rile a parson," said Nick. + +"I never tried. I don't know much about 'em. I haven't got a chaplain at +Mintaro." + +"By all accounts you ought to have." + +"What for?" + +"To marry you," said Nick laughing. + +Bellshaw swore and left him. Nick looked after him. + +"He's a rotter if ever there was one, but he's been straight with me so +far, and he'd better continue to walk the line. The first time he steps +off it I'll push him right down," he thought, then went into the +Federal. + +"Is Mr. Makeshift in?" he asked the young lady presiding over the entry +book in the desk, on the right hand side near the door. + +"Oh, it's you, Mr. Gerard. Yes, he's in. He's been asking for you," and +she told him where to find him. + +Nick ascended the stairs, knocked at the door. + +"Come in," said a thick voice. + +Nick entered and found Jerry struggling with a sketch. + +"I don't feel a bit humorous," said Jerry. + +"You're a pretty specimen," began Nick. + +"Look here, Old Nick, if you've come here to upbraid me I don't want to +see you. What I want is ten pounds to see me through." + +Nick laughed. + +"I'll let you have it if you promise to keep all right." + +"Snakes alive. You don't suppose I want to be sacked, do you?" exclaimed +Jerry. + +"I'd be sorry if you were, so would thousands of people. We'd all miss +you, Jerry. 'The Sketch' wouldn't be the same paper," answered Nick. + +"That's awfully good of you," said the repentant Jerry. "It means a lot +to me. I'll not go back on you, Nick, I promise you, and you shall have +some good stuff to amuse you next week." + +"That's right, old boy. Buck up. Here's the cash. Have you heard the +latest?" + +"I haven't been out for days." + +"Barellan's lame; Nicholl told me this morning. I've just met Bellshaw. +He's in a towering rage, cursing everybody, and everything. He can +handle some language when he likes. He's a heavyweight at it," said +Nick. + +"Bellshaw's a beast," replied Jerry. "I'm not sorry for him, but I am +for Leigh and Hadwin." + +"So am I, and I told him so," said Nick. + +"What'll happen?" asked Jerry. + +"I suppose he'll scratch him if there's no chance of getting him to the +post." + +"Lame horses have gone to the post and won a Melbourne Cup," said Jerry. + +"I'd sooner have one with four legs sound." + +"I say, Nick?" + +"Yes." + +"What do you fancy?" + +"If Barellan gets right I think he'll win." + +"And if not?" + +"Roland." + +"The Caulfield Cup winner?" + +"Yes. He's a good horse--better than folks imagine." + +"But his penalty?" + +"He's a weight carrier. His trainer says he'd a stone in hand at +Caulfield." + +"That settles it," said Jerry. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +SWEEP MONEY + + +After the Caulfield Cup, Hadwin took the horses to Flemington, where +they were boxed at the top of the hill, at the Racecourse Hotel, where +many good horses have had their quarters. + +Thither Bellshaw went, when he had been to Scott's, and cleansed himself +from the grime that accumulated coming from Albury to Melbourne. He was +not popular at the hotel. His generosity was of the miserly kind, and +everybody knew it. Still he was the owner of Barellan, the sensational +horse of the hour, and people wondered if it would be a case of another +Assassin, who was reported lame, and won easily. + +The head waiter said, "It's just up to Bellshaw to plant a lame 'un on +us, and then for the horse to come up smiling and win." + +When Bellshaw arrived at the Racecourse Hotel he at once saw Hadwin, and +there was a stormy scene. + +"I told you he'd break down if you gave him such strong work," said +Bellshaw. + +"He hasn't broken down," retorted the trainer. + +"Gerard told me he's dead lame." + +"That's different to breaking down. He's not dead lame." + +"Then what's the matter with him?" + +"Limped when he pulled up, that's all." + +"Isn't that enough the week before the race?" growled Bellshaw. + +"It would be under certain circumstances, but it's not serious." + +"You think he'll be fit to run?" + +The trainer laughed. + +"Of course he will. Who put that silly idea into your head?" + +"Let's look at him." + +They walked down the yard to Barellan's box. + +"Bring him out," said Bellshaw. + +Hadwin called the head lad and the horse was led out. He limped +slightly. His near fore-leg was swollen. + +"It doesn't look hopeless," said Bellshaw. + +"It isn't. He'll be all right in a couple of days, and he's as fit as he +can be. The rest will not do him any harm." + +"I haven't seen Leigh yet," said Bellshaw. + +"You'll have no difficulty in finding him." + +"He'll have to come down handsomely over the sweep money." + +"I don't think he will. I shouldn't be surprised if he declines to lay +you at all." + +"He'll do it. If he doesn't I'll scratch Barellan." + +"You dare not. There would be a terrible outcry against you." + +"What do I care? He's my horse; I can do as I like with him." + +"If you scratch him you'll throw the Cup away." + +"You're confident. What makes you so sanguine?" + +"I know what he can do, and after Flash's running in the Caulfield Cup +it is a good thing," returned the trainer. + +"Don't say anything about the lameness being slight," said Bellshaw. +"You're sure to have someone rooting round for information." + +"Very well," said Hadwin, who intended doing as he thought fit. + +At night Bellshaw went to the Show and saw Glen Leigh ride The Savage. +He admired his skill; he could not help it. + +After the performance he went round to see Glen Leigh and had a cool +reception. + +"I've come about the Sweep," he said. "You've drawn my horse." + +"He's lame," answered Glen. "Just my luck. Will he run?" + +"It all depends." + +"Depends whether he's got over it by Tuesday?" said Glen. + +"It depends on you." + +"What have I got to do with it?" + +"A good deal. You've drawn Barellan in the Sweep, and I expect a cut out +of it." + +"Do you, and how much do you expect?" + +"Half of what you draw. That's fair." + +Glen laughed as he said, "You don't want much. You'd better have the +lot." + +"It's a fair proposition," said Bellshaw. + +"I drew Barellan and I shall stick to anything I get out of it," Glen +replied. + +"You mean you will give me nothing out of the Sweep?" + +"Not a farthing," snapped Glen. + +"Then do you know what I shall do?" + +"No." + +"I shall scratch him." + +"A nice sportsmanlike proceeding that would be," said Glen. + +"I don't run my horse for your benefit, or the benefit of the public." + +"So I always understood," answered Glen. + +"Consider it over. If you do not make me a fair offer by Saturday I'll +strike him out on Monday." + +"I don't think you will," said Glen, in a mildly irritating way. + +"But I shall." + +"Again I repeat I don't think you will." + +"Why not?" + +"Because I can advance some weighty reasons against your doing so." + +"To which I shall not listen," said Bellshaw. + +"To which I am certain you will listen, and, having heard them, will +fall in with my views." + +Bellshaw was fast losing his temper. He had no idea what Leigh was +driving at. + +"I tell you again if you don't come down handsomely with the sweep money +I'll strike him out." + +"And I say you will not," retorted Glen. + +Gerard came round to see Glen Leigh. Jerry Makeshift, and Tom Roslyn +were with him. + +"How's your horse?" Tom asked Bellshaw. + +"Lame," snapped the owner of Barellan, who objected to being questioned +by the representative of "Racing Life" or any other journalist. + +"I'm quite aware of that, but as I presume you have seen him since your +arrival, I thought perhaps you could give me some later information to +wire to Sydney. There will be considerable excitement over the mishap," +said Tom in his most placid manner, at the same time wishing Bellshaw at +the uttermost part of the earth. + +"You know as much as I do," returned Bellshaw. "If he doesn't pull round +by Monday he'll be struck out." + +Glen Leigh looked at him with contempt. He knew Bellshaw would not be so +anxious about the sweep money if Barellan were dead lame, a hopeless +case. + +"That won't be the reason he's struck out," said Glen and they all +looked at him questioningly. + +Bellshaw turned on him in a rage. + +"It's a lie. It _will_ be because he's lame if he's struck out." + +Glen laughed. + +"You told me a few minutes ago you'd strike Barellan out if I did not +give you a cut out of the sweep," he said. + +Tom Roslyn smiled knowingly at Jerry as much as to say, "That's more +like it." + +"I say, Bellshaw, you'd never do a dirty thing like that?" said Nick. + +"I've told you my horse is lame; I also told Leigh I expected a cut out +of the sweep, and he said he wouldn't lay me anything. Do you think +that's fair?" Bellshaw asked. + +"He's drawn the horse; he can do as he likes. Personally I don't think +an owner has any right to demand sweep money," said Tom. + +"That's your opinion, is it? I expect you'd talk differently if you +owned Barellan," sneered Bellshaw. + +"If a lucky drawer of the sweep money offered me a portion I'd take it, +but I'd never demand it," replied Tom. + +"I mean to get some of it anyhow," declared Bellshaw. + +"Then if Barellan will start on those conditions," said Tom, "he can't +be so bad. I think I'll risk it and wire to that effect. It will relieve +his backers." + +"Wire if you like, but don't say I gave you the information." + +"Not willingly, but putting one thing with another I think I am +justified in wiring that your horse's lameness is not so serious as at +first supposed," answered Tom. + +"Then you'll be misleading the public, as you have done many a time." + +"I never mislead the public, knowingly," said Tom. + +"Through ignorance of facts," sneered Bellshaw. "Put it that way." + +"You're not making a bed of roses for yourself by going on in this way," +said Jerry. "You'll smart for it if you don't mind." + +"You've been on the spree ever since you've been here," remarked +Bellshaw. "I wonder what your boss would say if he knew." + +"You can tell him if you wish. I fancy you'd get your change," retorted +Jerry. + +Turning to Leigh, Bellshaw said, "I've had enough of this talk. You let +me know by Saturday what you are going to do, or I'll act as I said I +would." + +He left them and walked out of the office. + +"The atmosphere's a bit purer now he's gone," said Tom. "Isn't he a +bounder?" + +"He is. I've a good mind to rub it into him next week. He's a good +figure to caricature," answered Jerry. + +"Let him alone. Don't waste your talent on him," said Nick. + +"I'd better turn my attention to you, and call it 'The Philanthropist'," +suggested Jerry smiling. + +Nick laughed. He knew to what Jerry alluded. + +"I've issued a challenge," he said, "or rather I am about to do so; you +can wire it to the 'Life' if you wish to." + +"What is it, boxing?" + +"No, something more exciting. I'll wager two thousand pounds no one can +produce a horse that will throw Glen Leigh in a quarter of an hour. +There are conditions of course; it must be a throw, no lying down, and +rolling over him, and so on." + +"By Jove, that's plucky," said Tom. "He thinks a lot of your riding, +Leigh." + +"I do. He's the best roughrider in Australia, and that's saying a lot," +affirmed Nick. + +"We'll draw up the conditions," said Tom, "and I'll forward them." + +"Give 'em a month from date in which to find the animals," replied +Nick. "We must limit it to six horses, one to be ridden each night. It +will pack the place, bring grist to the mill, and it must come off in +Sydney. I mean to give Leigh half the stake if he wins, as I feel sure +he will." + +"What do you say, Leigh?" asked Tom. + +"I'll accept with pleasure; I'll ride anything they like to bring in," +answered Glen. + +"Good man," said Tom. "There'll be some sport. You'll have your work cut +out." + +Glen smiled confidently. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +BEATEN + + +It was Saturday night, and Glen Leigh had sent no word to Bellshaw about +the sweep money. + +Bellshaw waited impatiently in his private room at the hotel, fretting +and fuming. + +"If he thinks I don't mean what I said he's mistaken," he muttered. +"I'll scratch him right enough. He can't have a very big chance. He +limped a bit this morning. He'll have to run in bandages if he starts; +that doesn't look very well for a Cup horse. I'm not going to give him +all the spoil--not me." + +It was ten o'clock and still no word from Glen Leigh. Bellshaw thought +he would come round after the show, but he did not. + +"I'll wait until Sunday night," thought Bellshaw. "I can go round on +Monday morning and scratch him." + +Ivor Hadwin went to the show on Saturday night and saw Glen Leigh. He +was very anxious about what Bellshaw would do over Barellan, and tried +his utmost to persuade Glen to see him about it. + +"He'll not scratch him," said Glen. "He dare not." + +"You don't know him. He'd do it just to spite you." + +"Then he's a fool to throw away a chance of winning the Melbourne Cup +out of sheer spite." + +"Will you call on him to-morrow morning?" asked the trainer. + +"What's the good? There'll only be a scene," replied Glen. + +"Think of me, Leigh, the anxiety I've had over the horse for weeks, all +the trouble, and now the job of getting him to the post after his +lameness. It's heartbreaking," said Hadwin. + +Glen relented. For the trainer's sake he would see Bellshaw and try and +persuade him not to scratch Barellan, but he was firmly resolved not to +yield any sweep money. + +"Very well, I'll see him. I think I have a persuasive way, and I'll try +it on him," answered Glen. + +The trainer brightened visibly. + +"You're a good 'un. I'll not forget it," he said. + +About eleven o'clock on Sunday morning Glen Leigh was announced. + +Bellshaw smiled when he heard the name of his visitor. + +"Show him up," he said, and added to himself, "I thought he'd never be +such an ass as to throw a chance away." + +Glen entered the room. The only greeting he gave was a nod. He took a +chair without being asked, and threw his hat on the table, then leaned +back and looked at Bellshaw. + +"So you've come to your senses," said Bellshaw. "It's lucky for you the +office was closed on Saturday night, or my orders to scratch Barellan +would have gone in. There's the letter," and he threw it across the +table to him. + +Much to Bellshaw's surprise, which quickly changed to anger, Glen Leigh +tore it up and let the pieces flutter on the table. + +"Damn your impertinence. What do you mean by that?" roared Bellshaw. + +A tap at the door. A waiter put in his head. + +"Did you call, sir?" + +"No--get out," foamed the angry man. + +Glen smiled exasperatingly. + +"What do you mean by it?" asked Bellshaw again. + +"It's a silly useless letter, because you will not scratch Barellan," +answered Glen. + +Bellshaw simmered down. Leigh had come to make terms; they must be +liberal. + +"Useless because you are going to make a proposal," said Bellshaw. + +"I have a proposal to make?" + +"How much will you give me out of the sweep?" + +"Nothing," was the unexpected answer. + +Bellshaw flared up again, swore roundly, talked fast and furiously, all +to no purpose. Leigh sat immovable, lit a cigar and waited until he was +exhausted. + +"Would you like to hear my proposition?" asked Glen calmly. + +"Not if it doesn't refer to sweep money." + +"You'd better, for your own sake. It's rather important to you," said +Glen. + +"Nothing you have to say, outside the matter at issue, can interest me," +returned Bellshaw. + +Glen smiled at him. It was the most irritating thing he could do. + +"I shall sit here until you listen to what I have to say," he said. + +His manner was determined. He looked stubborn, and was more than a match +for Craig Bellshaw, as far as strength went. He got up and locked the +door, putting the key in his pocket. + +"What I have to say you would not like anyone to hear. Besides I don't +want you to bolt out of the room." + +"Get along with it then," growled Bellshaw, "but I assure you beforehand +you are wasting your time." + +"Oh no, I am not. You'll say so when I've done. You'll consider it +rather a clever move on my part and that the time was very well +occupied. It's about a woman," blurted out Glen suddenly. + +Craig Bellshaw felt as though an electric current had passed through +him. The remark was so unexpected, meant so many things, and he was +utterly in the dark. He stared at Glen, who still smiled as he said, "I +thought you'd be surprised. Do you know what became of the young woman +you took away from Mintaro and left in the open to die?" + +"You're raving. There never was a young woman at Mintaro," said Bellshaw +hoarsely. + +"Oh yes, there was. You drove her away in your buggy, emptied her out, +and left her insensible while you drove away. You told me about it the +night you walked in your sleep; at least all you knew. You acted well, +very well indeed. You illustrated in a remarkably clear way how you +attempted to throttle her. You also showed me how you were dragging her +to some water hole, but thought better of it, and left her to die of +hunger. I heard you speak to your horses so knew you must have taken +her there in a buggy. It's a bad plan to walk in your sleep when you've +a murder on your conscience," said Glen. + +Bellshaw glared at him like a caged tiger. + +"Murder," he hissed. "Be careful what you say." + +Glen took no notice of his remark. + +"Do you know what became of the woman?" he asked. + +"There was no woman." + +"Don't deny facts. It's a waste of breath. Doesn't Backham know there +was a woman at Mintaro? Don't all your hands know?" + +Bellshaw was silent. Glen was rubbing it in strong. + +"There's awful evidence against you to prove she was at your place. +We'll take that for granted; we'll also take it for granted you left her +in the wilderness to die--you brute," said Glen, who could hardly +restrain his feelings. + +Bellshaw writhed, but did not speak. He waited to hear more. + +"Do you know what became of the woman?" + +"I tell you there was no woman." + +"There's ample proof that you lie," answered Glen, "so I'll pass that. I +found her in my hut when I rode back from the fence." + +He gave Bellshaw a graphic account of what happened and how Jim Benny +came to assist him. + +Then he looked hard at Bellshaw as he placed his hands on the table and +stood up, leaning over until his face was within a few inches of the +squatter's. + +"She died in my hut," said Glen. "You are her murderer; you can't get +away from that." + +Bellshaw shivered. He believed what Glen Leigh said. It was not true, +but there was every justification for making the statement to punish +him. + +"She confessed how she came there and everything you had done to her +before she died," went on Leigh. "Jim Benny knows it; Bill Bigs knows +it; they were there. The evidence is strong enough, if not to hang you, +to send you to penal servitude for life." + +Bellshaw tried to laugh, but was thoroughly frightened. He had often +wondered what had become of the woman. The story sounded probable. She +might have wandered as far as Leigh's hut. During the few minutes' +respite Bellshaw thought of a way to retaliate. + +"You shot Joe Calder," he said. + +Glen being innocent, laughed. Bellshaw must have been dull if he did not +see his shot had not gone home. + +"I did not. I shouldn't wonder if you had a hand in it," retorted Glen. + +"He was a friend of mine." + +"You'd as soon leave a shot in a friend as an enemy if he was in your +way," said Glen. + +"Why have you told me this silly story?" + +"In the first place because I want to bring home to you that if Jim +Benny, Bill Bigs and myself bring a charge against you of causing the +death of this woman, you'll be in the hands of the police instead of +witnessing the Melbourne Cup. In the second place if you scratch +Barellan you will have no mercy shown you. We shall act at once," +replied Glen. + +Bellshaw saw the drift of it all. He was cornered. It was a clever move. +He would have to run the horse. The evidence of three men who saw the +woman die, and heard her charge against him, would be serious--too +serious for him to face in public. Even if he escaped punishment he +would be branded with infamy for life. + +"You'll not scratch Barellan?" said Glen. + +"I shall if I get no sweep money from you." + +"I say you will not scratch the horse," Glen repeated. + +"Supposing I do." + +"Then you will be taken into custody at once on the charge I mentioned." + +"And if I run him?" + +"You shall be free to do what you will. Your conscience will punish you; +it has done already. I saw that at Mintaro. You were afraid--a coward," +said Glen. + +"You will stand me a thousand out of the sweep?" + +"Not a farthing." + +Bellshaw would like to have shot him. + +"What guarantee have I that you will be silent?" he asked. + +"I give you my word," returned Glen. + +"That is nothing to me." + +"But it is to me, and you will have to accept it." + +"I will not." + +"You will run Barellan?" + +"No." + +"I have another witness," said Glen at a venture. + +"Go on. I am amused," answered Bellshaw, fighting hard before he gave +in. He must save his face by making some show of resistance. + +"Lin Soo," said Glen. + +The effect of the mention of this name on Bellshaw was remarkable. He +gasped and seemed on the point of choking, sank back in the chair, his +hands hanging down. + +Leigh opened the door and went downstairs for some brandy. This revived +Bellshaw and he looked round in a frightened way. + +"You will run Barellan?" asked Glen. + +Bellshaw murmured a faint "Yes." He was beaten. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +AT FLEMINGTON + + +There was tremendous excitement in Melbourne on the eve of the Cup. The +Victoria Club was thronged, a stream of people constantly passing up and +down the stairs on to Bourke Street. On the pavement the crowd was +dense, and it was difficult to push along. Many of the tobacconists' +shops were tenanted by bookmakers and heavy wagers were recorded in +them. Nick Gerard was busy at the Club; he had a heavy book on the race, +and had laid the favourite, Roland, the winner of the Caulfield Cup, +heavily. Barellan was one of his best horses; he had not laid much +against him. Ivor Hadwin gave him a glowing account of his candidate. On +Monday morning Glen relieved the trainer's mind by telling him he need +have no doubt about Bellshaw running the horse. + +"Then you must have laid him a lump out of the sweep," said the trainer. + +"Not a penny," answered Leigh. + +"Then how did you work it?" asked the trainer amazed. + +"I managed it after a tussle, but I can't tell you how," replied Glen. + +Wagering was fast and furious at the Club. Barellan's lameness +disappeared as if by magic and there were many people who thought the +whole thing a fake, and of course blamed Bellshaw. He was unpopular, and +made no secret that he ran his horses as he liked, without consideration +for anyone. When he came into the Club he was not greeted heartily as a +popular owner would have been. Hardly anyone spoke to him until one or +two bookmakers asked him if he wished to back his horse. + +Nick Gerard crossed over the room. + +"I suppose you've persuaded Leigh to give you some of the sweep money?" +he said. + +"Not a fraction. It's a mean, dirty action on his part, but as the horse +is so well backed I shall run him," replied Bellshaw. + +"It's something out of the common for you to consider backers," said +Nick. "Have you got all your money on?" + +"All I want. If he hadn't gone lame I'd have had more on; it's not worth +the risk now." + +The street was crowded until midnight, when the bulk of the people +wended their way homewards. + +Jerry Makeshift and Tom Roslyn walked down Collins Street together, +discussing the chances of the probable runners in the Cup. + +"What have you sent on as your final?" asked Jerry. + +"Barellan and Roland," answered Tom. + +"Why Barellan?" + +"I rather fancy him. I saw him this morning. Hadwin told me the horse +was all right again, and that the lameness disappeared as suddenly as it +came." + +"Still it can't have improved his chance for the Cup," said Jerry. "I +wonder how Leigh induced him to run the horse. He says he hasn't laid +him anything out of the sweep." + +"I'm glad of it. There's too much fleecing goes on. When a man is lucky +enough to draw a horse it's hard lines he should be robbed out of a lot +of it." + +"It's been the practice for so long, owners appear to regard it as a +right," said Jerry. + +"It's just as well they should find out it is not," replied Tom. + +The two friends parted and Jerry went on to the Federal. + +Next morning it was beautifully fine, and from an early hour huge crowds +wended their way to Flemington. Towards noon Spencer Street Station was +crammed. All the specials were full. + +There is no finer racing picture in the world than Flemington on Cup +Day. Even Royal Ascot pales before it in many respects. It is the luxury +of racing in comfort that makes Flemington, and most Australian courses, +attractive. There is room for everybody; there is no jostling or +overcrowding, and the cost is moderate. Everything is done to enhance +the pleasure of the public, who are not treated with the scant courtesy +meted out to them grudgingly in England. + +The lawn and stand were a grand sight before racing commenced. The hill +at the back, overlooking the stand, was a mass of people, yet there was +ample room to move about. The beds on the lawn were gay with +brilliant-hued flowers. The grass was splendidly green; there was no +dust or dirt, no fear of new and wondrously devised ladies' costumes +being damaged in an hour. Despite the heat, it was one of November's +hottest days, people looked cool. There was plenty of shade. Cosy tables +for luncheon parties were laid beneath arbours of vines, whose leaves +afforded a refreshing covering. Here scores of parties chatted and made +merry, talking over the prospects of the horses in the great race of the +year. Coaches, with fine teams, came driving in. There were no motor +cars, and the scene was far more picturesque without them. On the flat +the huge crowd assembled. It was evident there would be a record +attendance. + +The Governor and his Lady arrived and were greeted with rousing cheers +as they stepped from their carriage and walked across the lawn to the +reserved box on the grand stand. + +The bookmakers, located between the lawn and the paddock, were not +cooped up in an iron cage like animals in a zoological collection. +Wagering could be done in comfort. There was no fighting to get money, +no scrambling. Everything was decent and in order. + +Nick Gerard stood with his back to the rails, against the stewards' and +official enclosure and his clerks were seldom still. The leviathan had a +big book, and could afford to lay any horse asked for, but a casual +observer might have noticed he was in no particular hurry to put +Barellan's name down. He laid against Roland whenever he got a chance, +but the horse was so heavily backed he came down to five to one before +the first race was decided. + +A whole string of horses figured in the betting, and there were +thirty-one runners in the field, or would be if all started. + +Isaac, the winner of the Derby on the previous Saturday, had plenty of +friends. He was ridden by Nicholl in that race, and the jockey +considered he had an excellent chance. + +He had been asked to ride him in the Cup, but had to decline because he +was engaged for Barellan. + +Luke Nicholl was conscientious. He liked the trainer of Barellan, and +since he had known Glen Leigh he had been on very friendly terms with +him. Barellan's temporary lameness came as a blow to the jockey, as he +might have had the mount on any horse in the race he could do the weight +for. + +Ivor Hadwin, however, had somewhat relieved his mind when he told him +Barellan moved in his accustomed style, and he had but little fear about +his lasting out the race. + +"You'll ride him carefully," he said. "No need to tell you that. Nurse +him until you are well in the straight; then let him come along as fast +as you like. I got a clever man to bind his hoof. It's a bit brittle, +and he'll run in bandages, but take my word for it, whatever beats him +will win. I fear nothing, Luke." + +This was reassuring and Nicholl looked like not only riding the Derby +and Cup winners but also landing his first Melbourne Cup. For the +leading jockey he had had bad luck in the race, having been placed half +a dozen times. He could never quite get home. He hoped Barellan would +accomplish that for him. + +As he went into the paddock he encountered Glen Leigh. + +"I hope you'll win," said Glen. "It means a lot to me, as you know. If +Barellan gets home you shall have five hundred." + +Luke thanked him, and said he'd do his best, telling him what Hadwin +said. + +"That sounds all right," returned Glen smiling, "let's hope he's hit the +mark." + +"You'd better have a bit on my mount in this race," said the jockey. It +was the Railway Handicap, six furlongs, fifteen runners. + +"What are you on?" asked Glen. + +"Pioneer," replied Luke. "There he is. I must hurry up." + +Glen turned back into the ring, and walked to Gerard. + +"What price Pioneer?" he asked. + +Nick looked at him and smiled. + +"Eight to one," he answered. + +"Eight fivers," said Glen, handing him a note. + +There was a few minutes' slackness and Gerard said, "What makes you +fancy Pioneer?" + +"Nicholl's riding him. He told me to have a bit on." + +"His luck's in," said Nick, who sent one of his clerks to put fifty on +Luke's mount. + +Glen Leigh met Bill Bigs and induced him to back Pioneer, also Jim +Benny, and they went on the stand to see the race. + +Many people knew Glen Leigh as the daring rider in the Buckjumping Show; +and he was a tall, athletic, handsome man. Many bright eyes were +levelled at him as he moved about. + +"What's Pioneer's colours?" asked Bill. + +Glen looked at his race book. + +"White, black cap," he said. + +He had no sooner spoken than the horses were off, racing up the straight +at top speed. It was a regular Newmarket Handicap on a small scale. + +Soon after crossing the tan the white jacket came to the front. + +"That's Pioneer!" exclaimed Bill. + +"He's in front and he'll stop there," said a man behind him. + +"I hope he does." + +"So do I. He's a speedy horse, and good enough for a Newmarket." + +Pioneer came sailing along past the stands and turned out an easy winner +by three lengths, at which there was much jubilation among the three +friends. + +"I shall put my winnings on Barellan," said Bill. + +"So shall I," said Jim. + +"I'll keep mine in my pocket," said Glen. + +"You've got a big stake going. By Jove, it will be a go if you win first +prize in the sweep; you'll be a cut above us poor beggars then," Bill +remarked. + +"It won't make the slightest difference that way," replied Glen smiling. + +"I know that, old man. I was only chaffing," laughed Bill. "I suppose if +anyone accepts Gerard's challenge you'll ride, even if Barellan wins?" + +"Certainly. I promised him," Glen answered. + +"Let us go into the paddock, and have a look at some of the Cup horses," +said Jim, and they walked along the lawn in that direction. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +HE LOOKED AT HIS TICKET + + +"That was a good tip; we all backed it," said Glen as Nicholl came up to +them. + +"He won easily," said the jockey smiling. + +"Your luck's in," remarked Bill. + +"I hope it will continue in the Cup," answered the jockey. + +Barellan was being put to rights in the corner of the paddock and they +went to see him. + +Bellshaw was not there, so Hadwin had an opportunity of speaking to +them. He assured Glen the horse would win if he had a good run in the +race, which he was almost sure to have with such a jockey as Luke +Nicholl in the saddle. + +Barellan looked fresh and well. His coat shone like satin. He was +trained to the hour, but the suspicious-looking bandages, and one hoof +bound up with copper wire, caused many people to pass him by in their +search for the winner. + +Luke Nicholl, wearing Bellshaw's sky blue jacket and red cap, was ready +to mount when the time came. He felt confident. Hadwin had made an +impression on him, inspired him with some of his enthusiasm. Nicholl was +well off, Hadwin was not; the victory of Barellan meant the difference +between debt and independence. The trainer was not a gambler. He seldom +had more than five or ten pounds on, but he could not resist backing +Barellan, at the long prices offered, when he was lame. He had three +thousand to ninety about the horse, and backed him to win another +thousand that morning. Glen had laid him five hundred out of the sweep +money. + +Perhaps Glen Leigh was one of the most anxious men on the course, but +there was no sign that he was unduly excited. He laughed and joked as +usual and appeared quite calm outwardly. + +The chance of winning a fortune of nearly twenty-five thousand pounds +for the investment of a sovereign does not come to many men in a +lifetime. This was what Glen stood to win, and he conjured up his future +prospects if it came off. He thought of Mrs. Prevost and Clara; the +former he knew loved him; at least he was very much mistaken if she did +not, and he knew he loved her. If Barellan won he would go to her and +ask her to be his wife, and she would not refuse. He cared nothing about +her connection with Bellshaw. He would never ask her about it. He knew +the man, and pitied any woman who got into his clutches. As he stood +looking at Barellan he thought what the horse's victory meant to him, +and naturally he became more anxious as the time of the race drew near. +He saw Bellshaw coming and would have avoided him had it been possible. + +The squatter scowled at him, then asked, "Have you changed your mind? +Will you give me a cent out of the sweep?" + +"No," replied Glen as he walked away. + +Bellshaw sent a curse after him, then turned to the jockey. + +"If you can't win it doesn't matter about riding him out for a place," +he said. "There's no sweep money attached to it." + +Nicholl made no reply. + +"Do you hear what I say?" snapped Bellshaw. + +"I heard; I shall have to ride him out." + +"You'll do as I tell you." + +"I shall ride Barellan out," said Nicholl firmly. + +"Against my orders?" + +"If those are your orders, yes. I am not going to run any risks." + +"What risk would you run?" + +"I might be called up before the stewards to explain, and I'm not going +to risk that for you or anyone else." + +"You hear what he says," Bellshaw said to the trainer. + +"He'll have to ride him out. There's no help for it. Besides, there's +big money for the places," answered Hadwin. + +"I don't want place money if he can't win. I want to keep that fellow +Leigh from winning if Barellan can't come in first," said Bellshaw. + +"I thought so," said Nicholl. + +Bellshaw did not stay to see his horse leave the paddock. He went back +into the ring. He was in a vile temper, which his trainer's confidence +in Barellan did not soothe. Leigh had got the better of him. He knew it +was no empty threat when Glen said he would be put on his trial for +manslaughter if evidence were given incriminating him. He hated Glen +Leigh. His animosity was so great he would have scratched Barellan had +he dared. He intended paying him out. The best way to wound him would be +through Mrs. Prevost. He cared nothing for her sufferings, even after +all she had been to him. He was a man without feelings. + +He was not quite sure whether Leigh would keep his promise if Barellan +won. There was Lin Soo. What did Leigh know about him? The paper found +under his bedroom door at Mintaro had warned him, and Leigh mentioned it +again in the hotel. He must see Lin Soo on his return to Sydney, but +first of all he would go to Mrs. Prevost's again and inform her he had +enlightened Glen Leigh as to her past life, would gloat over her +distress, make fun of her, then offer to be on friendly terms with her +again. He had no doubt she would accept. + +He stood alone in the ring listening to the calling of the odds. Roland +was a firm favourite. Isaac, Painter, Out Back, Adelaide, The Gong, +Rosehill, Canterbury, Crocker, Thane, The Rival, Jack, and Mackay, were +all well backed, some at long odds, and rank outsiders at a hundred to +one each. + +The name of Barellan was seldom called by the bookmakers. Bellshaw +wondered why? Had they laid his horse heavily before he met with his +accident? + +He went to Gerard and asked the price of his horse. + +"Full against him," replied Nick. + +"You mean you won't lay him," said Bellshaw. + +"Take it as you like." + +"Do you expect him to run well?" asked Bellshaw. + +"I expect him to win," answered the bookmaker. "I hope he does for +Leigh's sake." + +Bellshaw made some remark about Leigh being a bad lot. + +"He's a straight goer. It's a pity there are not more like him," said +Nick. + +"Perhaps it is. Even if he wins the sweep he'll soon lose it. Probably +you'll get most of it, or some of your fraternity," retorted Bellshaw. + +"You don't know the man. If he wins he'll stick to it, take my word for +it," said Nick. + +Barellan's price was a hundred to eight, and no longer odds were +obtainable about him. This was not tempting enough for Bellshaw, so he +made no further investment. + +Jack was knocked out to a hundred to one for some reason or other. His +trainer did not understand it as he thought the horse had a fair outside +chance. + +Glen Leigh was missing. Bill and Jim could not find him. + +"He's best alone until after the race," said Bill. "He must feel a bit +queer about it; I should." + +"So should I," agreed Jim. "Fancy standing to win all those thousands +for a sovereign; it makes a fellow's mouth water." + +"He'll do something for you if he wins the first prize," said Bill. + +"He's not mentioned it." + +"No, it's not his way, but he will, depend upon it; I shouldn't wonder +if he gives you his share in the show." + +Jim thought of Clara and what he would do if such a stroke of luck came +his way. Glen Leigh had gone on to the top of the stand close to the +press-box, where he would have a good view of the race. He wished to be +alone. His feelings almost overcame him. He saw Jerry and Tom Roslyn in +front of the press-box, and was glad they had not noticed him. + +There was a dull roaring sound all over the course, the voices of +thousands of people talking before the race, mingled with the shouts of +the bookmakers. A sea of faces met Glen's gaze as he looked across the +course. Far away, on the other side of the canal, people were camped on +the slopes, waiting for the big field to come out. At the back of him, +on the hill, there was a dense crowd reaching down to the top of the +stand; he turned round and looked at the surging mass. To his right, +below, was the ring, and paddock; he saw a mass of heads on Tattersalls' +stand, and just caught a glimpse of a colour or two in the paddock. On +the lawn people were still strolling about in groups. The race, most of +it, could be seen from the terrace and the slopes. Presently, when the +horses came round the bend for home there would be a rush to get on the +rails. Still further to the left was another stand, on which there was +plenty of room. Late lunchers were still under the vines, but were now +making a move towards the terrace and stands. A long streak of bright +green, the course, stretched out between the crowds. A solitary horseman +cantered down. It was the starter going to the post; then the clerk of +the course came along, on an old chaser, and went after him. Already +there were one or two in the stewards' stand. Near the weighing room +diminutive men were going about; they were the jockeys weighed out for +the race. It was an animated glittering scene; many-hued costumes, the +brightest of colours, the daintiest of designs, artistic creations, the +labour of clever women and clever men, and hats and sunshades almost too +dazzling to feast the eyes upon, as the glorious sun poured his rays +down from the cloudless sky. It was an ideal day. A faint breeze, tinged +with sea air from the bay far away, cooled hot cheeks, and blew +delicately through thin blouses and skirts. Men moved about in all sorts +of headgear; but there were no regulation top-hats, although in the +Governor's Box "a bit of Ascot" was seen. It was Glen Leigh's first +Melbourne Cup, and the sight at Flemington entranced him, threw a +glamour over him, and he looked at it all and fancied himself alone, +even in the vast crowd. And he had drawn Barellan in the big sweep. +Would the horse win? Would No. 33444 be the successful ticket? He had +it in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at it, thinking how +wonderful it was that if Barellan won he could cash it for nearly +twenty-five thousand pounds. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +BARELLAN FALLS BACK + + +Glen's thoughts wandered. The heat and excitement made him drowsy. For a +few minutes he dozed, and as he did so his mind went back to the days +when he was a keeper of the fence, on the border line between New South +Wales and Queensland. Surrounded by thousands on Flemington course he +slumbered peacefully, as men will when overcome with some powerful +feeling, that acts like a drug, and for a few minutes there is oblivion. + +His thoughts wandered far away. He was back once more on the glittering +wire fence, with Ping, and Spotty, waiting there in the blazing heat for +his mate to meet him and compare notes. There had been no rain for +months; everything was parched, and dried up. He saw thousands of dead +rabbits, and sheep. The stench seemed to be in his nostrils. The scene +changed. He was looking in at his hut and saw the woman on the bed. In a +few seconds he went through the struggle for a life again, the ride to +Boonara, the tussle for brandy with Bill Bigs, Jim's arrival, and +keeping watch, Spotty's attack; then the convalescence and the journey +to Sydney. His meeting with Mrs. Prevost, Bellshaw at Mintaro, the +search and capture of buckjumpers, Lin Soo, The Savage, the show, were +all jumbled up together when he came out of his temporary swoon with a +start, rubbed his eyes, and stared round him at the bustling scene, +hardly daring to believe he was not back in reality on the fence. He +gave a sigh of relief, and was wide awake again. He could not have been +asleep for more than five minutes, and he had gone through the +experiences of half a lifetime. It was strange. He had not quite shaken +it off when the horses came out of the paddock on to the track, and the +sight caused the past to vanish. + +All eyes were turned on them as they cantered down the course to the +starting post. There were thirty-one runners; it was a big field, and +half of them were considered to have chances. + +Jack, knocked out to a hundred to one, was first out, his jockey wearing +a green jacket, yellow belt and cap; then came half a dozen more in a +cluster. Isaac, the Derby winner, passed, going in great style. A +tremendous cheer greeted Roland, the favourite. His owner's black +jacket, white sleeves, and red cap were popular; the colours were always +out to win. Painter, Plume, and Out Back followed, then Glen saw the +sky-blue jacket and red cap, and his heart beat rapidly. Barellan went +slowly at first, then burst into a gallop, pulling hard, reaching for +his head, but Nicholl would not let him go. Glen watched him through his +glasses, until he reached the post, thinking how much depended upon him. +Barellan was carrying his fortunes. If he won what a change there would +be in his life. If Jerry had not suggested his buying a ticket probably +the opportunity would have gone by. Certainly he must be remembered if +Barellan won. Had he not bought the ticket, and, with it, luck? + +He looked round. All faces, thousands of them, were turned in one +direction, watching the horses at the post, waiting for the signal when +they would be dispatched on their journey. There was not much delay; +they were well-trained. The starter had the jockeys under control. He +was an autocrat, his powers great. It went ill with those who disobeyed +him. + +They were off; a terrific shout proclaimed it. The race for the great +stake had commenced. What Glen Leigh felt at that moment he hardly knew. +He had a hazy idea something was going to happen that would dash all his +hopes. He shook off the feeling and determined to take a hopeful view of +the situation. + +Jack was making the pace. He had a light weight. His jockey was told to +go ahead and wear the field down; the little fellow was nothing loth to +do so; for one thing, he would be out of harm's way, and be in no danger +of getting shut in. Jack was a dull grey horse, not a brilliant +performer by any means, although on one or two occasions he had shown a +turn of speed. There could be no doubt he was on his best behaviour, +for, as they passed the stand, he was half a dozen lengths ahead of his +field. Glen looked at each horse as they swept past; there was Barellan +in the middle division, on the rails, going at an even pace; Roland, the +favourite, was just in front of him. Close behind came Isaac, and +Mackay; he was in good company. + +Round the bend they swept, a cheer greeting them from Tattersalls' +stand. Jack spread out, increasing his lead as they entered the back +stretch. Half-way along the field closed up. There was not a long tail. +It was a pretty sight, thirty-one bright colours showing up, glinting in +the sunlight. The sheds were reached when racing began in earnest, for +no laggards here had any chance of success. + +Glen's glasses were levelled on the sky-blue jacket. He wondered when +Nicholl would make a forward move. He became anxious. Was he lying too +far back? Ought he not to be nearer the front? Why did he let Jack get +so far ahead? These and sundry other questions jostled each other in +Glen's mind. + +Bill Bigs, and Jim, were standing together on the terrace. They had a +fair view of the race. + +"Jack's got a lead on them," said Bill. + +"He'll give way before long," replied Jim. + +"Don't you be too sure, young man," said someone behind him. "I've seen +Jack do a good couple of miles several times lately." + +"You don't think he'll win?" asked Bill. + +"I won't go so far as that, but I reckon he'll put up a good fight," +answered the stranger: then asked, "What have you backed?" + +"Barellan," said Bill. + +"A friend of mine's on him. He fancies him a lot. Knows his owner, I +believe." + +"So do I. He's not much to know," remarked Bill. + +The stranger laughed. + +"He is rather unpopular," he said. + +"Look!" cried Jim. "Barellan and the favourite are going up." + +Glen Leigh saw the move on Nicholl's part. His heart was in his mouth. +The jockey had just squeezed Barellan through on the rails and the +favourite had to go on the outside. As they neared the home turn the +crowd shouted. The names of half a dozen horses rang out clearly over +the course. + +Jack was first into the straight. He had made all the running and was +still going strong. Glen wondered if they would get on terms with him. + +Isaac, finding an opening, dashed through. The Derby winner was bound to +be thereabouts. He had run well and was coming out at the right time; +his rider's pink jacket and white cap showed conspicuously. + +Mackay's jockey pushed his mount and ran into third place, behind Jack +and Isaac. They were all in the straight now, thirty-one runners, and +the centre lot, numbering about a score, were all of a heap. The jackets +looked bunched together, a many-hued mass of colour. + +Barellan lost his position on the rails as they rounded the bend. He was +not forced out but ran wide. Nicholl, taken by surprise at this move, +thought it must be his leg pained him, and he wanted more room. He grew +anxious. There was a slight faltering on Barellan's part. He must be +nursed carefully or he might break down, and nursing at this critical +point, when every horse with a chance was making a run, spelt defeat, +being left behind. As it was Barellan fell back when he ought to have +come into the front rank. + +Glen Leigh's hand shook as he held his glasses. The sky-blue jacket was +right away at the end of the middle division. Barellan's chance looked +forlorn. His hopes were shattered; the thousands vanished into thin air; +it was what he might have expected. How could he win with only a +sovereign invested? It was absurd on the face of it. He was foolish to +buoy himself with false hopes. He had raised a mirage in which he saw +happiness and full content. Now it vanished and would never appear +again. + +"It is all up," he muttered. "I was a fool to think I could win such a +sum." + +"Hang it all, where's that beastly blue jacket got to?" said Bill. + +"Right away back," returned Jim. "We're done. I'm sorry for Glen." + +It was with mingled feelings Bellshaw saw Barellan fall back; he wanted +to win a Melbourne Cup, at the same time he wished Leigh to lose his +sweep money. He hardly knew which feeling was the stronger. If Barellan +were beaten he would have the satisfaction of knowing Leigh had been +done out of thousands and there was a chance that he, Bellshaw, might +win the Cup another time. + +Ivor Hadwin guessed why Barellan ran wide and lost his place at the +bend. It was the strain on his bound foot which caused it; he ran out to +ease it. Would he regain his position? He doubted it, but knew the horse +was one of the gamest, and at the end of two miles he went as fast as +the average horse at the end of half the distance, so he hoped for the +best as he fixed his glasses on the sky-blue jacket. + +Jack shot his bolt. He had done well, and was not disgraced, but the +pace and the distance proved too much for him. Isaac took his place, the +Derby winner coming along in great style. His numerous admirers and +supporters were on good terms with themselves. Roland came with a rattle +and ran into third place behind Isaac and Out Back, who made a terrific +run from the bend. A large field of horses in the straight, at the +finishing struggle for a Melbourne Cup, is one of the most exciting +scenes in the racing world; it rouses the lethargic to some sort of +enthusiasm, and a lover of the great game almost goes frantic over it. +From the moment the horses race in desperate earnest, when the bend is +cleared, the pent-up excitement continues until the winning post is +passed. + +Glen Leigh, with a matter of twenty-five thousand at issue, looked on +wonderingly; even the melancholy fact that Barellan was so far back did +not obliterate from view the grand sight he witnessed. As he looked at +the various horses, one by one, from Isaac in the lead, his rider's pink +jacket and white cap standing out alone, he gave a gasp of surprise. +What caused it? + +"Look at Barellan!" yelled a man standing near him. + +Glen looked, his eyes glued on the sky-blue jacket. It was this which +had caused the gasp of surprise. Barellan was going great guns, and +passing horse after horse in a remarkable manner. His name was shouted +over the course, far and wide. + +"Barellan, Barellan!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +WHAT A FINISH! + + +What looked like a hopeless position was turned into a promising +situation as Barellan came up the course at a tremendous pace. It was a +thrilling sight, watching the sky-blue jacket forging ahead, and Glen +Leigh's pulses beat rapidly. His body quivered as it had never done +before as he watched Barellan galloping the field to a standstill. The +shouting was tremendous. The noise deafening. Barellan's name echoed +over the course. Smack, on Roland, cast a hasty glance back and caught +sight of the blue on the outside. Barellan had "dropped from the +clouds." It was now or never. If he caught Isaac he might win. He raised +his whip, shaking it at the favourite. The gallant Caulfield Cup winner +responded gamely and was soon at the Derby winner's quarters. In another +moment he crept up, drawing level, and there was a rare set-to for the +advantage. + +Nicholl watched the leading pair. A smile flickered across his face. +They were playing into his hands, wearing each other down. The struggle +must tell, and there was still a furlong to go. Almost level with +Barellan were Rosehill and Out Back, the last named still going well. +When Barellan forged ahead and left them there was a terrific yell. Glen +Leigh dropped his glasses in his excitement. A man picked them up, +handing them to him, saying with a smile, "I expect you're on Barellan." + +"I drew him in the sweep," said Glen. + +The man stared at him, then said, "And you stand a good chance of +winning. Lucky fellow, you are." + +The chase commenced. Three to four lengths in front were Isaac and +Roland. The form was coming out well. If Barellan beat the Derby and +Caulfield Cup winners he would indeed be a great horse. When he lost his +place, and fell back soon after rounding the bend, there were at least a +dozen lengths to make up. It seemed impossible it could be done. +Nicholl rode with splendid judgment, nursing his mount carefully, easing +him as far as he dare, but he could not afford to lose more ground. Then +came the sudden spurt on the horse's part, without being forced. It was +a spontaneous effort, without pressure, and Nicholl's hopes rose +rapidly. His winning prospects increased with every stride. + +Pandemonium reigned on the course. This was to be a most exciting +finish. If Barellan kept up his run to the finish there was no telling +what might happen. + +Isaac was on the rails, Roland level with him, the pair racing in grim +earnest, fighting as only the best thoroughbreds can; no giving way, no +acknowledging defeat, a battle of giants, stern, determined, the jockeys +helping their mounts with all the skill and experience at their command. + +Barellan, and Out Back, were having a tussle behind the leading pair. +The spectators, roused to a boiling pitch of excitement, watched first +the leaders, then the others, and wondered if the latter pair would get +up. + +It was a breathless scene, full of strange emotion, bringing out all the +pent-up enthusiasm that nothing can rouse like a great race. People +watched with bated breath; hands shook, hearts palpitated, eyes blinked, +faces twitched, nerves twinged, pulses beat rapidly. In all those +thousands no one appeared to stand quite still. There were movements +everywhere; it was impossible to restrain them. + +Glen Leigh's mind was in a whirl. + +Twenty-five thousand pounds at stake, a fortune on Barellan and the +horse was only a few lengths from the winning post. He guessed how many, +twenty, thirty, more, less, which was it? What did it matter, if only he +won at the finish! + +"He'll win, he'll win, he'll win," seemed to be the refrain in Glen's +ears as he now and then caught a dull sound of hoofs when there were +brief lulls in the shouting. + +"Go on, Luke," he yelled. "Go on. You'll catch 'em." + +He could not restrain his feelings. He must shout or something would +happen. The strain was too great. There might be a snap, and then +collapse. + +Glen Leigh was a strong man, hard and fit, but the perspiration stood on +his forehead like beads, then gradually trickled down his face. He did +not feel it. Even when the drops wet his eyes he took no notice. He +glared at the sky-blue jacket through a mist which soon passed, although +for the moment it dimmed his vision. He put down the glasses. He could +see without them. The horses were not far off. He bent forward, swayed a +little. The man who had spoken to him thought he was about to fall and +caught him by the arm. He remembered a policeman, who had drawn the +winner, falling down dead on the lawn as the horses passed the post. + +Glen felt the friendly pressure, and said in a thick voice, "Thanks. I'm +all right." + + * * * * * + +Roar after roar came from the surging crowd as Roland, the favourite, +got his head in front of Isaac. + +The shouts of triumph rang in the air, heralding the victory of the +favourite, and when this happens in a Melbourne Cup the scene baffles +description. Who that saw it will ever forget the wonderful victory of +Carbine when he carried top weight, started favourite, and beat +Forester's Highborn, and Correze, both outsiders, easily? It was a sight +seen only once in a lifetime. It equalled Persimmon's Derby, if it did +not surpass it, and "Old Jack" took it all quietly, for, as he passed +the winning post, he stopped, turned round, and made for the weighing +enclosure without any assistance from Ramage, his pilot. This race was +more exciting than Carbine's Cup even, for there were four horses in it, +all with chances, and close on the winning post. + +"Even hundred nobody names it," yelled a bookmaker in the ring. It was a +safe offer, for nobody could name it except by a lucky guess. + +Roland was a neck in front of Isaac, Out Back and Barellan were on their +quarters. + +An electric current seemed to shoot through the living mass of human +beings and galvanise them into life; such a shout rent the air as had +not been heard at Flemington before. There had been desperate finishes +between two horses, but here were four putting up one of the greatest +battles ever seen. + +Glen Leigh shook with excitement. Small wonder at it, for the sky-blue +jacket had passed Out Back, and drawn almost level with Isaac. + +"I'm sure of the place money," thought Glen with a sigh of relief. + +Sure of the place money! In another second Barellan looked all over a +winner. Roland, hard ridden, held his own. Isaac was only half a length +off, the three together, with Out Back on the Derby winner's quarters. +What a fight, and what a great compliment to the handicapper, for behind +the leading four came a cluster of six, not two lengths away. + +Bill Bigs and Jim were well nigh frantic. Their hats were off. They +yelled, "Barellan," until they were hoarse. + +Ivor Hadwin turned pale. The strain was almost more than he could bear. +If, if only Barellan got his head in front as they passed the judge's +box. + +"He will. He'll win," almost shouted the trainer, who had to give way +under the pressure. His shouts acted like a safety valve. + +Barellan was head and head with Isaac, Roland half a length to the good, +and the winning post a few yards away. + +Luke Nicholl, for the first time, raised his whip. He was on the outside +and his right arm was free. + +One cut, another, a third, not too sharp, just sufficient to sting, to +give Barellan a reminder. + +The effect was astounding. Barellan, acting under the unexpected, went +forward with a final rush. His speed was so great that he caught up to +the favourite in two strides; his head shot out, his nostrils red and +wide, his eyes glared, his nose, then half a head, was in front; a +fraction of a second's suspense, then he claimed a head advantage, then +half a neck, a neck, and when this was realised the stands seemed to +shake with the deafening noise. It was marvellous. Rounding the bend +Barellan had fallen back a dozen lengths. His case seemed hopeless. He +had made up all the lost ground in the straight, and now he had his +neck in front of all the runners. + +Roland made a desperate effort, reducing the distance to half a neck +again. Isaac drew up, so did Out Back. The four horses were all +together. + +Glen Leigh looked, and looked. He had a dim vision of blue, pink, black, +white, red, orange, mixed together. Was the blue in front? He thought +so. How he hoped no one else knew. + +At last the struggle was at an end. The horses passed the post, four of +them with not a length between them. An anxious pause; thousands of +people could not tell which had won, the numbers were not up. The judge +seemed a long time hoisting them, but up they went at last. He placed +Barellan first, Roland second, a neck away, Isaac and Out Back, half a +length away, dead heat for third place. + +What a finish! + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +A TERRIBLE SAVAGE + + +It was over. Barellan had won, and Glen Leigh was the fortunate holder +of his number in the sweep. He had come into a fortune at one stroke. He +elbowed his way through the crowd hardly knowing what he was doing, and +went in search of his friends. It was not easy to find them in the great +crowd streaming towards Tattersalls and the paddock. As he pushed +through the ring he saw people gathering round bookmakers. Barellan must +have been well backed; hundreds were drawing money. He saw nothing of +Bill and Jim. He would go into the paddock. They might be there, +thinking he had gone to look at the winner. + +Nicholl had weighed in and was standing talking to the trainer as Glen +appeared on the scene. They greeted him heartily, shaking his hand, +congratulating him on his good fortune. + +"There's five hundred each for you," said Glen. + +They thanked him; it was a generous gift. + +"I never felt so queer in my life as I did when Barellan fell back just +after rounding the bend," declared Glen. "What happened?" + +"I thought he was going to crack up," answered the jockey. "It must have +been his foot. I fancy he wanted to ease it as he came round the bend; +it probably pinched him." + +"That's it," said Hadwin. "There's no doubt about it. What a run he made +up the straight. I never saw anything like it." + +While they were talking Bellshaw came up, scowling. He did not look like +the owner of the Cup winner. + +"You see I was right," said Hadwin. "He won a great race." + +"Which Nicholl nearly threw away," retorted Bellshaw. + +"You're mistaken," said the jockey. "If Barellan hadn't been one of the +gamest horses that ever looked through a bridle he would never have got +up and won." + +"You ran him out wide at the bend when you had a good position on the +rails," said Bellshaw. + +Nicholl explained, but the squatter was in no mood to listen to reason. +He had won the Melbourne Cup, but Glen Leigh had won first prize in the +sweep, and this made him rage. By all the rights of ownership he ought +at least to have five thousand laid him if his horse won. When he +thought how Leigh threatened him with exposure, he could have killed him +without compunction. There was no more dissatisfied man on the course +than the owner of the Cup winner. He had no pleasure in the victory. The +cheering he knew was not for him but for the horse and jockey. + +Glen Leigh walked away to avoid him. He saw the man was in no mood to be +crossed and was almost beside himself with ill-feeling and +disappointment. It was not, however, Bellshaw's intention that Glen +should escape him. He wished to quarrel with somebody, and Leigh scented +his purpose. He walked after him and said, loud enough for those +standing near to hear, "You've won the sweep money by the aid of my +horse. Are you man enough to give me something out of it?" + +Glen guessed by the way he spoke he meant mischief. There was menace in +his voice. He stopped, faced him, and answered, "I'm man enough to +refuse to give you a penny out of it." + +Bellshaw swore, then stepping up to him said savagely, "I suppose you'll +try and get Rosa Prevost--buy her with the money you've won? You'll not +succeed. I'll outbid you. She's fond of money, besides she's been my +woman for several years. Perhaps you don't know that. I never intended +marrying her. She knew it, and was quite contented with my terms. She +will be so again. You stand no chance. I can easily convince her she +will be better off with me." + +His insulting words made Glen Leigh's blood boil. + +"Be careful what you say or it will be the worse for you," he said. + +Bellshaw laughed. + +"Can't you find another woman? Are you tied down to marry my mistress?" + +By way of reply Glen Leigh raised his right arm, clenched his fist, +struck Bellshaw full in the mouth and knocked him down. + +Ivor Hadwin, Bill Bigs and Jim Benny saw what happened; they hurried +through the crowd and gathered round them. "Get out of this, Glen," said +Bill, "or there'll be ructions." + +Hadwin pulled Bellshaw away as he struggled to his feet. + +"You can't fight here. They'll hustle you on the course if you do. A +nice thing to happen to the owner of the Cup winner." + +Bill caught Glen by the arm, dragging him along. Bellshaw seemed in no +hurry to return the blow. He let the trainer lead him away. His mouth +was bleeding, his lip cut. The blow was severe; Glen had hard hitting +powers. + +Bellshaw turned his attention to his trainer, calling him names, abusing +him generally, then suddenly turned sullen and walked away. Soon after +he left the course and went to his hotel. + +He sat down and wrote a letter to Nick Gerard saying he would accept his +wager of two thousand pounds to find a horse Glen Leigh could not ride +for a quarter of an hour. The match must take place in Sydney the +following week, the Saturday night, and there must be no other acceptors +of the offer. He returned to Sydney by the mail train that night, and on +arriving there journeyed to Mintaro. + +Glen Leigh received his cheque for the sweep money by the end of the +week. It amounted to twenty-four thousand, six hundred pounds. He knew +now what it was to possess money. He paid Luke Nicholl and Ivor Hadwin +five hundred each, and gave handsome gifts to Bill and Jim and to Jerry +Makeshift. + +Nick Gerard showed Glen Bellshaw's letter, accepting his challenge, and +asked him what he thought about it. + +"I'll ride anything he cares to put into the ring," replied Glen. "He's +got some horses at Mintaro that are terrible savages, almost mad, but +I'll try and win your money, Nick. I'd like to beat him." + +"Very well, then I'll accept his offer and withdraw the notice. He'll +find you enough to do, I expect," said Nick smiling. + +"He will, you can depend upon that. He's pretty certain he can find +something that will throw me, or he'd not have accepted," answered Glen. + +"And will Saturday next week suit you?" + +"Yes, the show goes back to Sydney on Monday." + +"Capital; there'll be an exciting struggle. I suppose there's no doubt +Bellshaw will play fair?" + +"I don't see how he can help it. He'll pick out a nasty brute for me to +ride, but that's part of the game," said Glen. + +On all sides Glen was congratulated on winning first prize in the sweep. +He was inundated with letters from all sorts of people, anxious to +negotiate loans for the most part, others who wished to recommend safe +investments. Land agents offered him ideal residences, owners of horses +placed prices on their animals for him; charities solicited him, women +wrote saying they were quite willing to consider him as a husband if he +wanted a wife. + +Glen laughed at them all. He placed his money in the bank and went on +his way contented. + +When Bellshaw arrived at Mintaro unexpectedly he explained what he +wanted--the worst horse that could be found, a savage, quite ready to +kill and tear a man to pieces. + +His new overseer, Sam Wimpole, he had appointed when Garry Backham left; +he was a man of his master's stamp, cruel, unscrupulous. Already the +hands hated him; more than one had threatened to do for him. + +Bellshaw explained what he wanted, then added, "If you can find me a +horse that will throw him I'll give you a hundred pounds. I want to win +the wager. I want to see him injured for life, or better still, killed +outright. Do you understand?" + +Wimpole grinned. He understood. He knew the sort of horse. There was one +at Five Rocks, ten times worse than The Savage. It would be risky +catching him and taking him to Sydney, but once there he'd bet any money +Leigh couldn't sit on him five minutes. It was more than likely the +brute would kill him. It was a big powerful brown stallion, as big as +old Tear'em, and worse tempered. He should say he was seven or eight +years old and had never been handled. + +"The beast chased me five or six miles," he said. "If he'd caught me I +shouldn't be here to tell you about him." + +This news put Bellshaw in a better humour. The idea of maiming Glen +Leigh was just to his mind. He ordered Wimpole to yard the horse no +matter at what danger, or risk, and to take him to Bourke and from there +to Sydney. + +Next day Wimpole, taking the bulk of the hands with him, managed, after +much trouble, to yard the horse, among others, lasso him, and throw him +down, keeping him bound until he was exhausted with his struggles. On +the way to Mintaro the horse savaged two men, lamed three horses, and +had a tussle with Wimpole which almost caused the overseer to wish he'd +not told Bellshaw anything about him. + +When the owner of Mintaro saw the great powerful, unbroken, fiery +stallion, and heard of the damage he had already done, he was satisfied. +He had no doubt he would win the wager, and that Glen Leigh would +probably be seriously injured. + +"It's worth a hundred to take him to Bourke," said Wimpole. + +"You shall have it when he's trained," returned Bellshaw. "You must go +in the same train with me." + +"I'd best take a couple more hands with me," said Wimpole. "He's more +than a match for me." + +To this Bellshaw assented. All he thought about was injuring Leigh. + +It was an awful experience taking the horse to Bourke, but after a lot +of cruel treatment, which cowed him for a time, they succeeded. He was +put in an ordinary cattle truck and securely lashed back and front; a +band was also thrown round him and fastened to each side. Twice he broke +the stout ropes, but finally he was tied securely. + +Bellshaw watched the operation with evident pleasure. He was thinking +what was in store for Glen Leigh. It made him smile grimly. + +The station master asked Bellshaw what he was going to do with the horse +if he got him safely to his destination. + +Bellshaw explained about the wager, and who was to ride the horse. + +The station master made an ordinary remark, but when the train started +he muttered, as he looked after it, "Leigh'll be killed if he attempts +to ride that brute." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +MAN AND HORSE LAY SIDE BY SIDE + + +There was some earnest conversation between Bellshaw and his overseer on +the way to Sydney. + +"You'll do it," said Bellshaw. "Promise me you'll do it, and I'll give +you fifty pounds down." + +"I'll manage it," said Wimpole. + +"I shall be with the horse all the time, until he mounts, to see they +don't tamper with him," he added with a wink. + +Bellshaw laughed. They had hatched a wicked plot against Glen Leigh, and +Wimpole was to carry it out. + +"There'll be trouble if it's discovered," said Wimpole. + +"You're not going to back down?" + +"No, only if there's any danger of its being found out I shall bolt, and +it will take more money than you offer to get me out of the country in +comfort." + +"How much do you want?" asked Bellshaw. + +"I must have five hundred planked down before I do it," replied Wimpole. + +"Too much," said Bellshaw, but after an angry altercation agreed to +Wimpole's terms. + +"The risk's great. It will be a case of manslaughter right enough if +anything happens to Leigh, and it's discovered." + +The announcement in huge placards and newspaper advertisements that Glen +Leigh was to ride an unbroken stallion from Mintaro for a quarter of an +hour, for a wager of two thousand a side, between Craig Bellshaw and +Nicholas Gerard, roused curiosity to its highest pitch, and there was a +prospect of an enormous attendance. Glen Leigh was confident Bellshaw +would be unable to find a horse that could unseat him. Bill Bigs did not +like the look of things; he thought of foul play. He did not trust +Bellshaw. He knew the squatter would give a good round sum to injure +Leigh. + +Glen had been to Manley and seen Mrs. Prevost; he asked her to be his +wife, and she consented. When she alluded to the past he said it was +buried; he had no wish to unearth it. Clara Benny, as she was still +called, looked much better since she had been with Mrs. Prevost. There +was no doubt her health would be completely restored, but whether this +meant the recovery of her lost memory was uncertain. Mrs. Prevost tried +to persuade Glen not to ride in the match. She was sure he would be +injured, Bellshaw was such a vindictive man. + +Glen laughed her fears away, and made her promise to come and see him +win the wager; he said Bellshaw would have no chance of using foul play +against him. + +"You'll give up the show after this match?" she begged. + +"I'll hand my share over to Jim Benny," he answered. "I'll only go into +the ring when you give me permission," he added smiling. He knew she +would consent when he asked her. + +The excitement caused over the two thousand pound wager was intense, and +on Saturday night the building was crammed to suffocation. + +Sam Wimpole had the horse in readiness, saddled and bridled, as it would +have been impossible to do this in the ring. The horse was in a savage +mood. Since morning he had gradually grown worse. Just before the +performance was to commence he was in a perfect fury, lashing out, and +biting at his tormentors. + +Sam Wimpole watched him with a peculiar smile. When Craig Bellshaw came +to look at Lion, as they named him, Sam cautioned him not to go near. + +"Have you done it?" asked Bellshaw in a whisper. + +"Yes, gave him an injection an hour ago. He's had three. I'll give him +another before he goes into the ring; it will drive him almost mad. I +wouldn't mount him for a thousand pounds." + +"I shouldn't like to try you," said Bellshaw. + +"I wouldn't really. What's a thousand pounds against your life?" + +"Is it as bad as that?" + +"Quite." + +Bellshaw's smile was ugly. In imagination he saw Glen Leigh stretched +out a crushed and battered mass. + +The time drew nearer. A quarter of an hour before--the struggle was to +commence at nine--Sam Wimpole took out a small syringe from his +waistcoat pocket, crept up to the horse's side, and quickly made an +injection. Lion shivered, then gave a snort, and tried to grab Sam as he +nipped back into safety. + +Sam wished to be rid of the syringe. It had done its work, but he dare +not throw it away, and he could not go outside; he placed it in his +trousers pocket for the time being. + +Lion was led into the ring by two men who had long poles strapped on +each side of his bit. No one was to be in the ring when Leigh took the +bridle in his hand and the poles were loosened and taken away. There was +a breathless silence as the horse stood quivering; it was broken by a +deafening cheer as Glen Leigh came in. Lion reared and plunged at the +sound, but was held fast. Leigh came towards him, a heavy whip in his +hand. He walked straight up to the horse, looking him in the eyes; at +that moment he fancied there was something wrong with Lion, who seemed +frenzied. His eyes glowed like live coals, his breath was hot, steaming; +Glen felt it on his face. He undid the pole straps, made a signal to the +men, who hastily drew them away and ran out of the ring, and sprang into +the saddle before Lion was aware of his intention. Glen knew if he once +got safely seated half the battle would be won. Luck favoured him in +this respect. + +The horse had never been mounted until this moment, and for a few +seconds he seemed paralysed with fright at the strange experience. This +did not last long. With a wicked bound he tried to get rid of his +strange burden. It was a vain hope. Glen stuck to the saddle like a +limpet to a rock. Lion was a far stronger horse than the Savage, and +Wimpole had given him a drug that would increase his strength and +endurance until the effect died away. Never had Glen Leigh been on such +a horse. He knew Lion possessed tremendous strength. The strain on his +arms was immense, also on the whole of his body. + +Lion did not act like an ordinary buckjumper. He had his own plans of +getting rid of his burden; they were quite original because they had +been brought into play for the first time. He had a long reach, and +whenever he tried to bite Glen's thigh he had to pull his legs back +quickly. The horse showed no inclination to lie down, or to crush Glen +against the posts. Without the slightest warning he set off on a furious +gallop round and round the ring. After a dozen rounds he began bucking +as no horse ever bucked before. Up and down he went like a rocking +horse, then on all fours off the ground, his back arched to a point, all +the saddle gear strained to bursting. + +Glen felt the perspiration pouring off him. It was the hardest struggle +of his life, but he intended winning. He would not be beaten. + +Everybody in the vast audience watched the large clock as the fingers +crept slowly on, the large hand gradually drawing nearer to the +quarter-past. Bellshaw watched the struggle between man and horse with +absorbing interest. He knew what had been done, and that the horse +possessed demoniacal strength for the time being. + +Mrs. Prevost, her face white, her hands clutching nervously, watched +every movement in the ring; how she prayed for his safety, and for the +clock to point to a quarter-past nine. Never had she undergone such an +ordeal. It would be in her memory for the rest of her life. Supposing he +were killed? The horse seemed like some evil beast possessed of devils. +She almost shrieked as a mad plunge nearly unseated Leigh for the first +time, but he was still there. By some marvellous power he stuck to the +saddle and the battle went on. + +Glen Leigh knew the horse did not lose strength; rather had he gained it +during the last few minutes. It surprised him, but he had no time to +think. + +Lion stood on his forelegs, his head almost touching the ground, his +hind quarters straight up in the air. In this horizontal position he +twisted like an eel, trying to wriggle Glen on to his neck. He leaned +right back until his body was level with the horse's, then changing his +whip quickly, he hit backwards, bringing the heavy knob hard on the root +of the tail. This was too much for Lion. He came down on all fours and +Glen shot bolt upright. There was a tremendous cheer. It was a wonderful +piece of riding. + +"I've never seen such a devil of a horse," said Nick. "It seems to me +he's mad. I hope no harm will come to Glen." + +Bill was nervous. It was the first time he had felt such a sensation. He +turned to the bookmaker and said in a low voice, "It's my belief +somebody's doped that horse--given him a drug. He'd never go on like +that if he hadn't had something." + +"They'd hardly dare do that," answered Nick. + +"You don't know Bellshaw. He's capable of doing anything," returned +Bill. + +There was no time for more. Lion was at it again, fighting more +furiously during the last five minutes than he had done before. It was a +question of endurance. Would Glen Leigh last out? Once, twice, a third +time, he swayed in the saddle. A woman's cry echoed through the +building. It was Mrs. Prevost. She had to be held up in her seat. It was +only by exercising her will power to the uttermost that she recovered. + +Bellshaw stared at the strugglers with his eyes bulging. He looked at +the clock--four minutes, and Glen Leigh was well nigh dead-beat. Not one +person in that vast crowd thought the horse would throw him, but they +dreaded lest he should fall off exhausted. + +Three minutes and he still stuck on, but his grasp on the reins +loosened, and Lion, feeling this, redoubled his efforts. The fight was +terrific, too thrilling almost to witness. The horse possessed almost +miraculous strength. + +Two minutes, and for the next sixty seconds Lion bucked like a clockwork +machine until every bone in Glen's body felt like cracking. Only one +minute to the quarter and still Glen kept his seat. Half a minute more; +a great gasp came from the crowd as Glen sank forward, clasping the +savage brute with both arms round the neck, but he was still in the +saddle. He was not thrown. The position was one of grave danger for Lion +could reach his arms with his mouth. The horse stopped, panting, his +nostrils blood red, his eyes shooting fire; they gleamed angrily. + +"Get off," yelled Nick. + +"Get off," yelled Bill, and hundreds of voices took up the cry. A +shudder of horror passed through the huge crowd. Women fainted. Strong +men shook. Hundreds hid their faces. + +Lion, with a sudden swerve of his neck, got his teeth in Glen Leigh's +arm. The pain was terrible. The muscles burned like fire. He caught +sight of the clock. Only a second or two and he would win. Could he +stand it? Lion tore his arm, then tried to seize his leg, but Glen was +too quick for him. + +"Time!" + +A terrific shout. + +"Time!" shouted the frantic crowd, and as Glen Leigh heard it he rolled +out of the saddle in a dead faint; before anyone could rush up Lion +planted his fore feet on his chest and bent his head towards his face. + +"Shoot him! He'll tear his face," shouted Nick. + +"You can't. He's my horse," yelled Bellshaw. + +Bill rushed forward, an iron bar in his hand, and in the nick of time +brought it down on Lion's head with a mighty sweep. He dropped like a +log. Man and horse lay side by side in the ring. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +THE SWEEP WINNER'S HOME + + +Glen Leigh was taken to the Kangaroo and nursed by Mrs. Prevost. His +chest was crushed, his arm lacerated, but he made a wonderful recovery, +and in a week was removed to Sea View, Manley, where, needless to say, +he received every attention. + +The terrible fight between Glen and Lion was the topic of conversation +for several days. Many trainers who were present were firmly convinced +the horse had been drugged, or he would never have been so savage, or +possessed such strength and staying powers. Nothing however, was +discovered, and Sam Wimpole, in order to extract his money from +Bellshaw, had to threaten him with exposure. + +Glen was of this opinion. He, too, thought Lion had been dosed, but as +he won the wager he thought it best to make no enquiries. + +Craig Bellshaw was beaten. His temper was not improved. He heard Leigh +was at Manley, and decided to go and visit Mrs. Prevost. Some years ago, +when he was infatuated with her, he had made a will in her favour, +leaving her Mintaro and all the stock on it; this he decided to alter as +soon as possible. He would tell her when he reached the house. + +He landed from the boat, walking along the street to the sea-front. As +he turned in at the gate he looked up at the bedroom window. What he saw +caused a shock which almost deprived him of reason. He stood staring at +what he thought was the ghost of the woman he had left to die of hunger +and thirst. It was Clara looking out. She saw him enter. Her face +changed rapidly. The seat of memory was no longer vacant. She recognised +him, and with the recognition returned a flood of recollections. The +horror on her face made it look unearthly. She fixed her eyes on +Bellshaw with a glassy stare which he returned; he dare not move. Leigh +told him the woman was dead and this must be an apparition. + +What did it mean? + +Of one thing, in his confused state of mind, he was certain; he must fly +from the spot. But his feet were rooted to the ground, and he could not +take his eyes off. + +The woman swayed to and fro, pointed at him with her hand. Then suddenly +the thing vanished. She had fallen on to the floor in a dead faint. + +Bellshaw knew nothing of this--he was horrified. His mind gradually +became unhinged. He imagined the ghost disappeared suddenly in order to +come out to him, perhaps seize him. In his frenzy he attributed +supernatural strength to the apparition. It might carry him off, take +him away to some dreadful place. + +Bellshaw turned and fled, running along the sea-front like a madman, +then turning towards the landing stage; reaching it, as the steamer was +moving away, he ran on, and despite all the warning cries made a +desperate leap. His head struck the paddle box; the wheel spun him round +as he fell into the water. The boat stopped, assistance was at once +rendered, but Bellshaw had disappeared. After waiting a quarter of an +hour the captain left one of his men behind to report to the police, and +proceeded on his journey to Circular Quay. + +Craig Bellshaw's body was recovered later on in the day. His head having +struck the paddle box, he was rendered unconscious and he sank like a +stone. + +When Clara fell with a thud on the floor of the bedroom, Mrs. Prevost +rushed upstairs and found her insensible. A severe illness of some weeks +followed. When she recovered she remembered everything in her life at +Mintaro, and how she came to Glen Leigh's hut. It was a pitiful story, +and Glen Leigh, Mrs. Prevost, Bigs and Jim listened to it in sadness. As +a young girl she recollected being with Lin Soo. How he obtained +possession of her she had no idea. There were other girls about her own +age, and they were kindly treated for several years. + +Then one day she recollected Bellshaw coming to Lin Soo's. She did not +like him; she shrank from him when he touched her. She only had a hazy +idea of how she was taken to Mintaro. She must have been drugged in +some way. At first Bellshaw treated her kindly, doing all in his power +to ingratiate himself with her. She refused all his advances, and this +changed his whole actions towards her. He attempted to force her to his +will and failed. Garry Backham assisted her as far as he dare. He +smuggled a revolver into her room, and with this she felt safe. For a +long time her life was one constant, unceasing watchfulness. She dare +not sleep. When she dozed she awoke in a fright fearing Bellshaw was +near her. She shot at him once, wounding him in the arm. It was soon +after this he said he was tired of her and offered to drive her to +Bourke and send her to Sydney. + +She related what happened when they reached the water hole; how he +thrust her out of the buggy, sprang after her, and tried to push her +into the muddy water. She struggled, then fainted. When she came to +herself she was alone, lost in the great spaces surrounding her. She +struggled on for several days, until at last she staggered into Glen's +hut, and fell on his rough bed. + +In answer to questions she said she had no idea who her parents were, +nor did she seem to remember any home other than Lin Soo's. It could do +no good questioning her further, so the subject dropped. She explained +how she saw Bellshaw looking up at the window and he recognised her. +Glen expressed the opinion that Bellshaw must have thought he had seen a +ghost and the sight turned his brain. + +At the inquest held on him, death was stated to be caused by drowning, +and that this was brought about in the manner already described. Craig +Bellshaw's lawyer had his will. He came to Sea View. Great was Rosa +Prevost's surprise when she discovered that Mintaro and all the stock on +the station was her absolute property. Looking at the date of the will +she knew he must have forgotten to alter it until too late. She +consulted Glen Leigh as to whether she should take advantage of it, and +he left it entirely in her hands. The lawyer strongly advised her to +take over Mintaro as there were no direct heirs to it. This she decided +to do, more for Glen's sake than for her own. + + * * * * * + +Ten years had gone by since Bellshaw's death and other happenings. Glen +Leigh and his wife, Rosa Prevost, lived at Mintaro, where everything +prospered with them. They had five children, three boys and two girls, +all well grown and strong. + +The hands at Mintaro found Leigh a very different "boss" from Bellshaw. + +Garry Backham sold out at Boonara and came back to Mintaro as overseer, +and very glad he was to be there under such a master. Glen mustered all +the stock on the station and found thousands more cattle and sheep than +he anticipated. Many of the wild horses were shot, others tamed and used +on the station. He bought a small stud-farm near Albury, and sent horses +to be trained by Ivor Hadwin. There was a prospect of a successful year +before the stable at the end of five seasons when Glen had a score of +horses, most of them bred by himself, in training. The sweep money came +in very handy to run the station and tide over one or two bad seasons; +when rain and the good times came Mintaro cleared a fortune for them +every year. + +Jim Benny and his wife, the woman who suffered so much at Bellshaw's +hands, and whom Jim helped Glen Leigh to save, came to Mintaro, where +Clara acted as nurse and governess to all the children until such time +as the two elder boys went to school in Sydney; she then took charge of +the three at home, and Mrs. Leigh found her a great help and a genial +companion. + +It took a lot of persuasion to get her to come to Mintaro, of which she +had so many unpleasant memories, but eventually they prevailed when it +was pointed out how advantageous it would be for her husband. + +The show was sold as a going concern; Lion had to be shot; he never +recovered from the blow Bill gave him. A post-mortem was made at +Gerard's request and the veterinary surgeon said the horse had been +heavily dosed with a powerful drug, which undoubtedly caused him to be +in a frenzy in the ring when Glen rode him. + +Lin Soo was tackled by Glen and Bill Bigs, and compelled to pay a large +sum of money to Mrs. Benny in order to avoid criminal prosecution. +Moreover, he was forced by them to leave Sydney and return to his own +country. Chun Shan was installed as head cook at Mintaro, a position he +worthily filled. + +Sea View, Manley, was not sold; the Leighs used it as their residence on +visits to Sydney. + +It was a great day for Ivor Hadwin when he won the Sydney Cup for Glen +Leigh, whose white jacket, black belt and cap, were immensely popular. +Horatio was the horse, and, as he started at two to one, the enthusiasm +was immense. Later both the V.R.C., and A.J.C. Derbies fell to Glen's +share, and he had hopes of landing a Melbourne Cup with a son of +Barellan's, who was at the Albury Stud, and a most successful sire. + +Glen never forgot the keepers of the fence, and when he came to Mintaro +they soon discovered they had a friend in the man who had once been one +of themselves. Glen sometimes rode there and chatted with them, +rendering their lives less lonely. + +One day he drove his wife to the glittering wire and showed her where he +had stood for long hours in the terrible heat and drought. + +"What an awful life, Glen," she said, with a shudder. + +"I stood it all right," he replied, "but I was glad when it ended." + +When Barellan's son won the Melbourne Cup, Bill Bigs, pointing Glen +Leigh out to a friend, said, "He drew Barellan in the big sweep, and now +he's won it with his son." + +"That isn't likely to happen again," was the reply. + +"No, I don't suppose it is," said Bigs. + +Luke Nicholl came to Mintaro for a change, which he thoroughly enjoyed. +Jerry Makeshift came with him; both were heartily welcomed. + +"I shall never forget it was owing to you, Jerry, I bought the ticket in +the sweep, and drew the winner," said Glen. + +"You've made good use of the money, anyway," was Jerry's reply. + + + THE END + + JOHN LONG, LIMITED, PUBLISHERS, LONDON, 1920 BRISTOL BURLEIGH + LTD., AT THE BURLEIGH PRESS + + * * * * * + + + + + + + The Novels of CURTIS YORKE + + _Morning Post_: "Whether grave or gay, the author is a + _raconteur_ whose imagination and vivacity are + unfailing. Few, moreover, have in the same degree the + versatility which enables her to provoke peals of + laughter and move almost to tears. The writer is + natural, realistic, and entertaining." + + DELPHINE + ENCHANTED + ONLY BETTY + MISS DAFFODIL + OLIVE KINSELLA + WAYWARD ANNE + THEIR MARRIAGE + THE OTHER SARA + MOLLIE DEVERILL + THE GIRL IN GREY + THE WOMAN RUTH + ALIX OF THE GLEN + QUEER LITTLE JANE + IRRESPONSIBLE KITTY + DANGEROUS DOROTHY + THE WORLD AND DELIA + PATRICIA OF PALL MALL + THE GIRL AND THE MAN + THE VISION OF THE YEARS + A FLIRTATION WITH TRUTH + + _These Novels are published in various editions._ + _Prices from the Booksellers and Libraries._ + + London: + John Long, Ltd., 12, 13, 14 Norris Street, Haymarket + + + + + THE NOVELS OF NAT GOULD + THE AUTHOR WHOSE SALES EXCEED 20,000,000 COPIES + + Odds On + The Flyer + A Cast Off + The Roarer + The Smasher + Racing Rivals + [1]A Great Coup + One of a Mob + Lost and Won + The Head Lad + The Silver Star + Never in Doubt + A Straight Goer + A Bird in Hand + The Top Weight + The White Arab + The Buckjumper + The Lottery Colt + The Lucky Shoe + The Dapple Grey + Whirlwind's Year + Won on the Post + Fast as the Wind + At Starting Price + The Stolen Racer + The Steeplechaser + The Lady Trainer + A Stroke of Luck + A Northern Crack + A Bit of a Rogue + Left in the Lurch + Queen of the Turf + The Little Wonder + The Sweep Winner + Good at the Game + The Selling Plater + A Race for a Wife + A Reckless Owner + [1]A Turf Conspiracy + Charger and Chaser + A Sporting Squatter + [1]A Gamble for Love + [1]A Fortune at Stake + The Phantom Horse + A Member of Tatt's + The Rider in Khaki + Breaking the Record + The King's Favourite + A Chestnut Champion + The Jockey's Revenge + The Trainer's Treasure + The Pet of the Public + The Pick of the Stable + The Best of the Season + The Wizard of the Turf + A Hundred to One Chance + [1][2]The Chance of a Lifetime + [1] _FILMED_ [2] _DRAMATISED_ + + These Novels are published in various editions + Prices from the Booksellers and Libraries + + JOHN LONG, LIMITED, LONDON + Exclusive Publishers of all Mr. Nat Gould's New Novels + + + + +SOME APPRECIATIONS OF MR. NAT GOULD + +Among all lovers of sport the name of Nat Gould has become a household +word. As sportsman, journalist, and globe-trotter, few men have gone +through more varied experiences, and still fewer have used their +experience to such excellent purpose. Since Whyte Melville and the +immortal "Jorrocks" no writer has depicted with so spirited a pen the +romance of a racecourse, the surprises of the cricket-pitch, or the +hairbreadth escapes of the hunting-field. Writing in _Longman's +Magazine_, Mr. Andrew Lang said: "A Sixpenny Academy would be a lively +Academy. For President, I would, if consulted, select Mr. NAT GOULD, who +shines by a candid simplicity of style, and a direct and unaffected +appeal to the primitive emotions, and our love for that noble animal the +horse." + +_Nation_, 9th August, 1919:--"In the way of sale, his wares surpassed +all others. To millions they were the breath of mental life. We have +heard that a newspaper purchasing the serial rights of one of his +stories could promise itself an increased circulation of 100,000 a day, +no matter what its politics or its principles." + +_The Times_, 26th July, 1917:--"Of Mr. Nat Gould's novels more than Ten +Million[3] copies have been sold; and when this can be said of an author +there must be qualities in his work which appeal to human +nature--qualities, therefore, which even the most superior person would +do well to recognise. 'A Northern Crack' is one of those tales which set +you down in an arm-chair and keep you there till it is pleased to stop." + +_The Times_, 26th July, 1919:--"If art in any sphere in life finds a +basis in the pleasing of a multitude, then Nat Gould was an artist with +few above his shoulders." + +_Morning Post_, 26th July, 1919:--"He was the most widely read of all +modern story-tellers, and a genius in his downright way." + +_Athenaeum_, June 10th, 1911:--"All living writers are headed by Mr. NAT +GOULD, and of the great of the past, Dumas only surpasses his +popularity." + +_Truth_, January 22nd, 1913:--"Who is the most popular of living +novelists? Mr. NAT GOULD easily and indisputably takes the first place." + +Miss BEATRICE HARRADEN, one of the Honorary Librarians to the Military +Hospital, Endell Street, London, writing in the November, 1916, issue of +the _Cornhill Magazine_, states: "We had to invest in any amount of NAT +GOULD's sporting stories. In fact, a certain type of man would read +nothing except NAT GOULD. However ill he was, however suffering and +broken, the name of NAT GOULD would always bring a smile to his face. +Often and often I've heard the whispered words: '_A Nat Gould--ready for +when I'm better_.'" + +[3] Since this was written ten million more copies have been sold to +December, 1919, totalling over Twenty Millions. + + * * * * * +Transcriber's Notes: + + Punctuation has been normalized. + Page 10: "more more than" replaced with "more than." + Page 71: "We'll make things gee" retained as printed. + Page 136: "too and fro" replaced with "to and fro." + Page 215: "No doubt it was Leigh who called" retained as printed. + Page 227: "suprised" replaced with "surprised." + Page 269: "convalesence" replaced with "convalescence." + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sweep Winner, by Nat Gould + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SWEEP WINNER *** + +***** This file should be named 36480.txt or 36480.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/4/8/36480/ + +Produced by paksenarrion, Suzanne Shell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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