Wonderfully true, isn't it? You'll accept our apologies, Mr.Storefield, I trust.Poor Dick here will never get over it.'
`How was I to know? Why, George, old man, we thought it was the Governor turned squatter, or old Billy Wentworth himself.Your trade pays better than ours, let alone being on the square.Well, shake hands; we'll be off.
You won't tell the girls, there's a good fellow, will you?'
`I can't promise,' says old George; `it's too good a joke.'
Here he laughed a good one.`It isn't often a man gets stuck up by his friends like this.Tell you what; come and have some lunch, and we'll talk it over.'
His man rode up then with the spare horse.Luckily, he was a good way behind, as fellows will keep when they're following a trap, so that they can't be any good when they're wanted.In this case it was just as well.
He hadn't seen anything.
`Hobble the horses out and put on their nose-bags, Williams,' says he, `and then get out the lunch.Put the things under that tree.'
They took out the horses, and the chap got out a basket with cold beef and bread and half a tongue and a bottle of good whisky and water-bag.
We sat down on the grass, and as we'd been riding since sunrise we did pretty well in the feed line, and had a regular good bit of fun.
I never thought old George had so much go in him; but good times had made him twice the man he used to be.
After a bit he sends the groom down to the Cowall to water the horses, and, says he --`Captain, you'd better come and manage Willaroon down there, with Dick for stockman.There's a fortune in it, and it's a good way off yet.
Nobody would think of looking for you there.You're a new chum, just out from home, you know.Plenty of spare country.
I'll send you some cattle to start you on a new run after a bit.'
`If we could throw our past behind us, I'd do it, and thank God on my knees,'
said Starlight.`It would make me almost a happy man again.
But why think of that or any other honest life in this colony now?
We've debarred ourselves from it now and for ever.Our only hope is in another land -- America -- if we can get away.We shan't be long here now;we're both sick of this accursed work.'
`The sooner the better,' says George, taking his hand and giving it a hearty grip.`And, look here, you work your way quietly down to Willaroon.
That's my place, and I'll give you a line across to the Queensland border.
From there you can get over to Townsville, and it's easy to sail from there to the islands or any port out of reach of harm from here.'
`We'll tackle it next month if we're alive,' says I.So we parted.
Not long after this we got a letter from Jim.He'd heard all about the way to do it from a man he'd met in Melbourne that had worked his way down overland from the North.He said once you were there, or near there, there was little or no chance of being interfered with.
Jeanie was always in a fright every day Jim went away lest he might be taken and not let come back.So she was always keeping him up to the mark, making him inquire here and look out there until he got a bit of information which told him what he wanted.
This man that worked in the store with him was a fast sort of card, who had been mate of a brig cruising all about and back to Sydney with sandalwood, beche-de-mer, and what they call island trade.
Well, the captain of the craft, who was part owner, had settled in his mind that he'd trade regular with San Francisco now, and touch at Honolulu going and coming.He was to be back at Gladstone in about three months, and then start for California straight away.
This was the very thing, just made to suit us all to pieces.
If we could make out to one of the Queensland northern ports it would be easy enough to ship under different names.
Once in America, we'd be in a new world, and there'd be nothing to stop us from leading a new life.
