By and by she came over and told us all about it. She’d had a hard matter to manage it, for Joe was a square sort of fellow, that had a place of his own, and at first didn’t like the notion of being mixed up with our crowd at all. But he was regular shook on Maddie, and she went at him as only a woman can, and I daresay, though she didn’t tell us, made it part of the bargain, if she was to marry him, to help Jim in this particular way. He was to be well paid for this journey by old Mr. Watson, and he wanted a bit of money before harvest or he wouldn’t have taken the job at all.

The end of it was that Jim and Joe sat up ever so late, pretty well on to daylight, smoking and yarning, and Joe practising Jim in all the things he was to do and say, giving him a kind of chart of the stages, and telling him the sort of answers he was to give to the old chap. It was just before daylight when they knocked off, and then Joe goes and peels off his duds and hands ‘em over to Jim, rough great-coat and all—up to his chin and down to his toes.

Joe takes Jim’s togs. They fitted him all to pieces, and Jim hands him over his horse, saddle, revolver, and spurs, and tells him the old horse is a real plum, and he hopes he’ll be good to him. Then Jim shakes hands with us all round. Blessed if the girls wasn’t up too, and had some coffee smoking hot for us. “We can sleep when you’re all gone,” says Maddie,“and perhaps we shan’t see old Jim any more” (this was said when Joe was out of the room), “so here’s good luck; and when you’ve got your wife and child again don’t forget Maddie Barnes.” Then she shook hands with him, and made a quick bolt to her own room. Queer things women are, my word.

When old Jim drove round to the front with the pair of horses, setting up square with his big coat and Joe’s “full-share” hat on him, we all bursted out laughing. He’d first of all gone to the old gentleman’s room and sung out, “All aboard, sir, time’s up,” just to liven him up a bit. Joe kept away down at the stable.