At long last they'd got to the end of the conning, and divided the notes.
Moran tied his up in a bunch, and rolled 'em in his poncho;but Wall crammed his into his pocket and made 'em all stick out like a boy that's been stealing apples.When they mounted their horses, Mr.Knightley shook hands with me and Starlight.Then he turns round to Moran and Wall -- `We're parting good friends after all's said and done,'
he says.`Just as well matters have been settled this way.Come, now, in cool blood, ain't you rather glad, Moran?'
`Dashed if I know,' growls he.`All I know is, you're deuced well out of it;your luck mayn't be so good another time.'
`Nor yours either, my friend,' says Mr.Knightley, drawing up his bridle-rein.
`I had only a snap-shot at you when that bullet went through your poncho, or you'd be lying alongside of Daly.However, I needn't waste my breath talking to that brute,' he says to Starlight.`I know well all I owe to you and Dick Marston here.Some day I may repay it.'
`You mean what I owe you,' says Starlight, turning it off with a laugh.
`Never fear, you'll find that paid to your credit in the bank.
We have agents in all sorts of places.Good-bye, and a safe ride home.
My respectful compliments to Mrs.Knightley.Perhaps you'd better follow the doctor now.' The old gentleman had got tired waiting, and ridden on slow and easy.
Two or three weeks after, Starlight and I were taking a ride towards the Bogan Road, not that we was on for anything particular, but just having a turn round for want of something else to do, when we saw a big mob of cattle coming along, with three or four stock-riders behind 'em.Then we met a loaded dray and team in front, that had rations and swags and a tent.The driver asked us if we knew a good place to camp.He was a talking sort of chap, and we yarned away with him for a bit.He told us how the boss was behind in a dogcart and tandem, with two led horses besides.
The cattle were going to take up a new run he'd bought on the Lower Bogan, an out-and-out wild place; but he'd got the country cheap, and thought it would pay in the end.He was going ahead after a stage or two, but just now he was camping with them.
`My word, he's well in, is the cove,' says the horse-driver;`he's got half-a-dozen stations besides this one.He'll be one of the richest men in Australia yet.'
After we saw the cattle (about a thousand head) we thought it would be a middling day's work to `stick up' the cove and put him through.
Going to form a new station, he'd very like have cash about, as he'd have to pay for a lot of things on the nail just at first.
If he was such a swell too, he'd have a gold watch and perhaps a few more trifles.Anyhow, he was good for the day's expenses, and we thought we'd try it on.
So we passed the cattle and rode quietly along the road till we saw his dogcart coming; then we stopped inside a yarran scrub, just as he came by -- a square-built man he seemed to be, muffled up in a big rough coat.It was a cool morning.We rode up sharpish, and showed our revolvers, singing out to him to `bail up'.
He pulled up quick and stared at us.So we did at him.Then the three of us burst out laughing -- regular roared again.
Who should it be but old George Storefield.
`Well, this is a prime joke,' says he.`I knew you were out somewhere on this road; but I never thought I should live to be stuck up by you, Dick Marston.'
I looked foolish.It was rather a stunner when you come to think of it.
`I beg a thousand pardons,' says Starlight.`Ridiculous mistake.
Want of something to occupy our time."For Satan finds some mischief still," etc.Isn't that the way the hymn runs?
