Robbery under Arms Part 64

'Haven't you served those drinks yet, Bob?' she sings out. 'Why, the gentlemen called for them half-an-hour ago. I never saw such a slow-going crawler as you are. You'd never have done for the Turon boys.'

We all looked at her--not a bad-looking woman she'd been once, though you could see she'd come down in the world and been knocked about a bit.

Surely I knew her voice! I'd seen her before--why, of course--

She was quicker than I was.

'Well, d.i.c.k!' says she, pouring out all the drinks, taking the note, and rattling down the change on the counter, all in a minute, same as I'd often seen her do before, 'this is a rough shop to meet old friends in, isn't it? So you didn't know me, eh? We're both changed a bit. You look pretty fresh on it. A woman loses her looks sooner than a man when she goes to the bad. And Jim too,' she goes on; 'only to fancy poor old Jim turning up here too! One would think you'd put it up to meet at the towns.h.i.+p on some plant of that sort.'

It was Kate, sure enough! How in the world did ever she get here? I knew she'd left the Turon, and that old Mullockson had dropped a lot of his money in a big mining company he'd helped to float, and that never turned out gold enough to pay for the quicksilver in the first crus.h.i.+ng.

We'd heard afterwards that he'd died and she'd married again; but I never expected to see her brought down so low as this--not but what we'd known many a woman that started on the diggings with silks and satins and a big house and plate-gla.s.s windows brought down to a cotton gown and a bark shanty before half-a-dozen years were over.

Jim and I both looked queer. The men began to laugh. Any one could see we were both in a fix. Jim spoke first.

'Are you sure you're not making a mistake, missis?' says he, looking at her very quiet-like. 'Take care what you say.'

He'd better have held his tongue. I don't know whether she really intended to give us away. I don't think she did altogether; but with them kind of women it's a regular toss up whether they'll behave reasonable or not. When they're once started, 'specially if they think they've not been treated on the square, they can't stop themselves.

'Take care what I say!' she breaks out, rising her voice to a scream, and looking as if she'd jump over the bar-counter and tear the eyes out of me. 'Why should I take care? It's you, d.i.c.k Marston, you double-faced treacherous dog that you are, that's got a thousand pounds on your head, that has cause to care, and you, Jim Marston, that's in the same reward, and both of you know it. Not that I've anything against you, Jim. You're a man, and always was. I'll say that for you.'

'And you're a woman,' groans out poor Jim. 'That's the reason you can't hold your infernal tongue, I suppose.'

Kate had let the cat out of the bag now and no mistake. You should have seen the drover and his men look at us when they found they had the famous bush-rangers among them that they'd all heard so much about this years past. Some looked pretty serious and some laughed. The drover spoke first.

'Bush-ranger here or bush-ranger there,' he says, 'I'm going to lose a dashed good man among cattle; and if this chattering fool of a woman had held her tongue the pair of ye might have come on with the cattle till they were delivered. Now I'm a man short, and haven't one as I can trust on a pinch. I don't think any more of you, missis,' he says, 'for being so dashed ready to give away your friends, supposing they had been on the cross.'

But Kate didn't hear. She had fallen down in a kind of fit, and her husband, coming in to see what the row was about, picked her up, and stood looking at us with his mouth open.

'Look here, my man,' says I, 'your wife's taken me and this gentleman,'

pointing to Jim, 'for some people she knew before on the diggings, and seems to have got rather excited over it. If it was worth our while to stay here, we'd make her prove it. You'd better get her to lie down, and advise her, when she comes to, to hold her tongue, or you might be made to suffer by it.'

'She's a terror when she's put out, and that's G.o.d's truth,' says the chap; and starting to drag her over to one of the bits of back bedrooms.

'It's all right, I daresay. She will keep meddling with what don't consarn her. I don't care who yer are or what yer are. If you knowed her afore, I expect ye'll think it best to clear while she's unsensible like.'

'Here's a shout all round for these men here,' says I, throwing a note on the bar. 'Never mind the change. Good-bye, chaps. This gentleman and I have some business together, and there's no bush-ranging in it, you may take my word.'

We all left then. The men went back to their cattle. Jim rode quietly along the road to Cunnamulla just like any other traveller. I went down and saddled up my horse. I'd got everything I wanted in my swag, so I'd left the other horse at Willaroon.

'Never mind the settlement,' says I to the drover. 'I'll be coming back to the station after I've finished my business in Queensland, and we can make up the account then.'

The overseer looked rather doubtful.

'This seems rather mixed,' says he. 'Blest if I understand it. That woman at the pub seems half off her head to me. I can't think two quiet-looking chaps like you can be the Marstons. You've been a thundering good road hand anyhow, and I wish you luck.'

He shook hands with me. I rode off and kept going along the road till I overtook Jim.

When I'd gone a mile or two there was Jim riding steadily along the road, looking very dull and down-like, just the way he used to do when he was studying how to get round a job of work as he wasn't used to. He brightens up a bit when he sees me, and we both jumped off, and had a good shake-hands and a yarn. I told him about mother and Aileen, and how I'd left dad all by himself. He said Jeanie and the boy were all right, but of course he'd never heard of 'em since, and couldn't help feeling dubersome about meeting her again, particular now this blessed woman had dropped across us, and wouldn't keep her mouth shut.

'As sure as we've had anything to do with her, bad luck's followed up,'

says Jim; 'I'd rather have faced a trooper than seen her face again.'

'She can't do much now,' says I. 'We're across the border. I wonder where Starlight is--whether he's in the towns.h.i.+p or not? As soon as we meet him we can make straight for the s.h.i.+p.'

'He's there now,' says Jim. 'He was at Kate's last night.'

'How do you know that?'

'I heard her mutter something about it just when she went into that fit, or whatever it was. Devilment, I think. I never saw such a woman; and to think she's my Jeanie's sister!'

'Never mind that, Jim. These things can't be helped. But what did she say?'

'Something like this: "He thought I didn't know him, pa.s.sing himself off as a gentleman. Warrigal, too. Kate Morrison's eyes are too sharp for that, as he'll find out."'

'Think she'll give us away again, Jim?'

'G.o.d only knows. She mightn't this time, unless she wants to smother you altogether, and don't mind who she hurts along with you.'

'There's one good thing in it,' says I; 'there's no police nearer than Trielgerat, and it's a long day's ride to them. We made it all right before we left the Turon. All the police in the country is looking for us on the wrong road, and will be for a week or two yet.'

Then I told him about Aileen putting Sir Ferdinand on the wrong lay, and he said what a clever girl she was, and had as much pluck and sense as two or three men. 'A deal more than we've ever showed, d.i.c.k,' says he, 'and that's not saying much either.'

He laughed in his quiet way when he heard about Starlight's advertis.e.m.e.nt in the 'Turon Star', and said it was just like him.

'He's a wonderful clever fellow, the Captain. I've often thought when I've been by myself in Melbourne, sitting quiet, smoking at night, and turning all these things over, that it's a wonder he don't shoot himself when he thinks of what he is and the man he ought to be.'

'He's head enough to take us safe out of this dashed old Sydney side,'

says I, 'and land us in another country, where we'll be free and happy in spite of all that's come and gone. If he does that, we've no call to throw anything up to him.'

'Let him do that,' says Jim, 'and I'll be his servant to the day of my death. But I'm afeard it isn't to be any more than going to heaven right off. It's too good, somehow, to come true; and yet what a thing it is to be leading a working honest life and be afraid of no man! I was very near like that in Melbourne, d.i.c.k,' he says; 'you've no notion what a grand thing it was--when I'd done my week's work, and used to walk about with Jeanie and her boy on Sundays, and pa.s.s the time of day with decent square coves that I knew, and never dreamed I was different; then the going home peaceful and contented to our own little cottage; I tell you, d.i.c.k, it was heaven on earth. No wonder it regular broke my heart to leave it.'

'We're close up to the towns.h.i.+p now,' says I. 'This wire fence and the painted gate ain't more than a couple of miles off, that chap said at the inn. I wish there was a fire-stick in it, and I'd never gone inside a door of it. However, that says nothing. We've got to meet Starlight somehow, and there's no use in riding in together. You go in first, and I'll take a wheel outside the house and meet you in the road a mile or two ahead. Where's your pistol? I must have a look at mine. I had to roll it up in my swag, and it wants loading.'

'Mine's a good tool,' says Jim, bringing out a splendid-looking revolver--one of these new Dean and Adams's. 'I can make prime shooting at fifty yards; but I hope to G.o.d I shan't want to use it.'

'There's no fear yet a bit,' says I; 'but it's as well to be ready. I'll load before we go any farther.'

I loaded and put her back in the belt. We were just going to push on when we heard the sound of galloping, and round a patch of scrub comes a horseman at full speed. When he sees us he cuts off the road and comes towards us.

There was only one horse that carried himself like that, even when he was pulling double. We spotted him the same second. Rainbow and Starlight on him! What in thunder makes him ride like that?

When he came closer we saw by his face that something was up. His eyes had the gloomy, dull fire in them that put me in mind of the first time I saw him when he came back wounded and half dead to the Hollow.

'Don't stop to talk, boys,' he sings out, without stopping, 'but ride like the devil. Head to the left. That infernal Warrigal has laid the police on your track, d.i.c.k. They were seen at Willaroon; may be up at any minute.'

'Where's Warrigal now?' I said, as we all took our horses by the head and made for a patch of dark timber we could see far out on the plain.

'He dropped when I fired at him,' says Starlight; 'but whether the poor beggar's dead or not I can't say. It isn't my fault if he betrays any one again.'

'How did it come out?'