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Then he threw down the tools hopelessly, and was standing helplessly undecided whether to go home or go down to the creek and drown himself, when Dave turned up again.

“Seen her?” asked Dave.

“Yes,” said Andy.

“Did you chuck her?”

“Look here, Dave; are you sure the feller was Mick Kelly?”

“I never said I was. How was I to know? It was dark. You don’t expect I’d ‘fox’ a feller I see doing a bit of a bear-up to a girl, do you? It might have been you, for all I knowed. I suppose she’s been talking you round?”

“No, she ain’t,” said Andy. “But, look here, Dave; I was properly gone on that girl, I was, and–and I want to be sure I’m right.”

The business was getting altogether too psychological for Dave Bentley. “You might as well,” he rapped out, “call me a liar at once!”

“‘Taint that at all, Dave. I want to get at who the feller is; that’s what I want to get at now. Where did you see them, and when?”

“I seen them Anniversary night, along the road, near Ross’ farm; and I seen ’em Sunday night afore that–in the trees near the old culvert–near Porter’s sliprails; and I seen ’em one night outside Porter’s, on a log near the woodheap. They was thick that time, and bearin’ up proper, and no mistake. So I can swear to her. Now, are you satisfied about her?”

But Andy was wildly pitchforking his thatch under his hat with all ten fingers and staring at Dave, who began to regard him uneasily; then there came to Andy’s eyes an awful glare, which caused Dave to step back hastily.

“Good God, Andy! Are yer goin’ ratty?”

“No!” cried Andy, wildly.

“Then what the blazes is the matter with you? You’ll have rats if you don’t look out!”

“JIMMINY FROTH!–It was ME all the time!”

“What?”

“It was me that was with her all them nights. It was me that you seen. WHY, I POPPED ON THE WOODHEAP!”

Dave was taken too suddenly to whistle this time.

“And you went for her just now?”

“Yes!” yelled Andy.

“Well–you’ve done it!”

“Yes,” said Andy, hopelessly; “I’ve done it!”

Dave whistled now–a very long, low whistle. “Well, you’re a bloomin’ goat, Andy, after this. But this thing’ll have to be fixed up!” and he cantered away. Poor Andy was too badly knocked to notice the abruptness of Dave’s departure, or to see that he turned through the sliprails on to the track that led to Porter’s.

. . . . .

Half an hour later Andy appeared at Porter’s back door, with an expression on his face as though the funeral was to start in ten minutes. In a tone befitting such an occasion, he wanted to see Lizzie.

Dave had been there with the laudable determination of fixing the business up, and had, of course, succeeded in making it much worse than it was before. But Andy made it all right.

[THE END]

An incomplete Glossary of Australian terms and concepts which may prove helpful to understanding this book:

Anniversary Day: Alluded to in the text, is now known as Australia Day. It commemorates the establishment of the first English settlement in Australia, at Port Jackson (Sydney Harbour), on 26 January 1788.

Billy: A kettle used for camp cooking, especially to boil water for tea.

Cabbage-tree/Cabbage-tree hat: A wide-brimmed hat made with the leaves of the cabbage tree palm (Livistona australis). It was a common hat in early colonial days, and later became associated with patriotism.

Gin: An aboriginal woman; use of the term is analogous to “squaw” in N. America. May be considered derogatory in modern usage.

Graft: Work; hard work.

Humpy: (Aboriginal) A rough or temporary hut or shelter in the bush, especially one built from bark, branches, and the like. A gunyah, wurley, or mia-mia.

Jackeroo/Jackaroo: At the time Lawson wrote, a Jackeroo was a “new chum” or newcomer to Australia, who sought work on a station to gain experience. The term now applies to any young man working as a station hand. A female station hand is a Jillaroo.