‘Ach, bejesus, Frank, you do spin things out,’ sighed Annie, who’d come to sit beside him. ‘Will you be after tellin’ us who he was?’

Frank grinned, clearly enjoying his moment. ‘Well now, Annie, that’s the mystery,’ he replied. ‘He said his name was John Miller, but I don’t reckon that was the truth.’

There was a general muttering before Annie said, ‘Why not?’

His gaze became distant and thoughtful. ‘I dunno,’ he admitted finally. ‘But there was something about him that didn’t ring true.’ He looked back at his audience. ‘I could be wrong – but my instincts rarely let me down.’

Terence felt Sandra snatch her hand away, and before he could stop her, she’d pushed her way through the crowd. ‘What did this man look like?’ she asked.

Frank regarded her for a long moment. ‘He was a skinny sort of tall youngish fella,’ he replied. ‘With eyes that looked as if they’d seen too many things a bloke shouldn’t see – and a hunger that told me he hadn’t eaten in days.’ He cocked his head, his expression thoughtful. ‘He looked like a man who was still fighting his own personal war – and was about to lose it,’ he finished.

Sandra hesitated as she suddenly realised every set of eyes had turned her way. ‘I think we might have seen him too,’ she said, looking to Terence for support.

Terence simply nodded, uncomfortable at being the centre of attention.

Frank was busy rolling a smoke and his tone was casual. ‘Oh, yeah? When was that?’

‘Three or four days ago,’ she replied. ‘We were coming up from Sydney and had just gone through Bourke.’

Frank shook his head. ‘Nah, missus, it can’t be the same bloke, cos we saw him somewhere around Wilga Station and he was heading south.’ He frowned and became thoughtful. ‘At least, that’s what he said.’ He turned to the silent Jim. ‘What you reckon, mate?’

Jim took a deep breath and pondered the question. ‘I dunno,’ he drawled after a while. ‘Seemed like a nice young bloke to me, and a bit down on his luck after leaving the army. But it ain’t none of our business anyways.’

‘How did you know he’d been in the army?’ piped up Annie.

Frank pursed his lips. ‘He was wearing service camouflage and carrying a kitbag. Said he was on his way south back to his wife.’ He brought an end to his performance by rising from the bench and placing his hat back on his head. ‘Reckon we’d better finish unloading this lot before it gets too dark. As the pub’s been shut, Annie, is there any chance of a bed for the night, and some tucker?’