Chapters (53)
- Foreword
- Chapter I
- Chapter II
- Chapter III
- Chapter IV
- Chapter V
- Chapter VI
- Chapter VII
- Chapter VIII
- Chapter IX
- Chapter X
- Chapter XI
- Chapter XII
- Chapter XIII
- Chapter XIV
- Chapter XV
- Chapter XVI
- Chapter XVII
- Chapter XVIII
- Chapter XIX
- Chapter XX
- Chapter XXI
- Chapter XXII
- Chapter XXIII
- Chapter XXIV
- Chapter XXV
- Chapter XXVI
- Chapter XXVII
- Chapter XXVIII
- Chapter XXIX
- Chapter XXX
- Chapter XXXI
- Chapter XXXII
- Chapter XXXIII
- Chapter XXXIV
- Chapter XXXV
- Chapter XXXVI
- Chapter XXXVII
- Chapter XXXVIII
- Chapter XXXIX
- Chapter XL
- Chapter XLI
- Chapter XLII
- Chapter XLIII
- Chapter XLIV
- Chapter XLV
- Chapter XLVI
- Chapter XLVII
- Chapter XLVIII
- Chapter XLIX
- Chapter L
- Chapter LI
- Chapter LII
We took the bridles off and tied up the horses—there was any amount of feed for them—and strolled down to the cottage again.
“Wonder whether Gracey’s as nice as she used to be,” says Jim. “Next to Aileen I used to think she wasn’t to be beat. When I was a little chap I believed you and she must be married for certain. And old George and Aileen. I never laid out anyone for myself, I remember.”
“The first two don’t look like coming off,” I said. “You’re the likeliest man to marry and settle if Jeanie sticks to you.”
“She’d better go down to the pier and drown herself comfortably,” says Jim. “If she knew what was before us all, perhaps she would. Poor little Jeanie! We’d no right to drag other people into our troubles. I believe we’re getting worse and worse. The sooner we’re shot or locked up the better.”
“You won’t think so when it comes, old man,” I said. “Don’t bother your head—it ain’t the best part of you—about things that can’t be helped. We’re not the only horses that can’t be kept on the course—with a good turn of speed, too.”
“ ‘They want shooting like the dingoes,’ as Aileen said. They’re never no good, except to ruin those that back ‘em and disgrace their owners and the stable they come out of. That’s our sort, all to pieces. Well, we’d better come in. Gracey’ll think we’re afraid to face her.”
When we went away last Grace Storefield was a little over seventeen, so now she was nineteen all out, and a fine girl she’d grown. Though I never used to think her a beauty, now I almost began to think she must be. She wasn’t tall, and Aileen looked slight alongside of her; but she was wonderful fair and fresh coloured for an Australian girl, with a lot of soft brown hair and a pair of clear blue eyes that always looked kindly and honestly into everybody’s face. Every look of her seemed to wish to do you good and make you think that nothing that wasn’t square and right and honest and true could live in the same place with her.
She held out both hands to me and said—
“Well, Dick, so you’re back again. You must have been to the end of the world, and Jim, too. I’m very glad to see you both.”