Robbery Under Arms Rolf Boldrewood (best way to read an ebook .TXT) 📖

him, though he does swear at me sometimes; but he was took last time. He was out on his own hook, and it’s my belief he’ll be took this time if he isn’t very careful. He’s a good man to fight through things when once he’s in the thick of ’em, but he ain’t careful enough to keep dark and close when the play isn’t good. You draw along steady by yourself till you meet Jim⁠—that’s my advice to ye.”

“I mean to do that. I shall work my way down to old George’s place, and get on with stock or something till we all meet at Cunnamulla. After that there ain’t much chance of these police here grabbing us.”

“Unless you’re followed up,” says the old man. “I’ve known chaps to go a deuce of a way, once they got on the track, and there’s getting some smart fellows among ’em now⁠—native-born chaps as’ll be as good at picking up the tracks as you and Jim.”

“Well, we must take our chance. I’m sorry, for one thing, that I had that barney with Warrigal. It was all his fault. But I had to give him a hardish crack or two. He’d turn dog on me and Jim, and in a minute, if he saw his way without hurting Starlight.”

“He can’t do it,” says dad; “it’s sink or swim with the lot of you. And he dursn’t either, not he,” says father, beginning to growl out his words. “If I ever heard he’d given away anyone in the lot I’d have his life, if I had to poleaxe him in George Street. He knows me too.”

We sat yarning away pretty late. The old man didn’t say it, but I made out that he was sorry enough for that part of his life which had turned out so bad for us boys, and for mother and Aileen. Bad enough he was in a kind of way, old dad, but he wasn’t all bad, and I believe if he could have begun again and thought of what misery he was going to bring on the lot of us he would never have gone on the cross. It was too late, too late now, though, to think of that.

Towards morning I heard the old dog growl, and then the tramp of a horse’s feet. Starlight rode up to the fire and let his horse go, then walked straight into his corner and threw himself down without speaking. He had had a precious long ride, and a fast one by the look of his horse. The other one he had let go as soon as he came into the Hollow; but none of the three would be a bit the worse after a few hours’ rest. The horses, of course, were spare ones, and not wanted again for a bit.

Next morning it was “sharp’s the word,” and no mistake. I felt a deal smarter on it than yesterday. When you’ve fairly started for the road half the journey’s done. It’s the thinking of this and forgetting that, and wondering whether you haven’t left behind the t’other thing, that’s the miserablest part of going a journey; when you’re once away, no matter what’s left behind, you can get on some way or other.

We didn’t start so over and above early, though Starlight was up as fresh as paint at sunrise, you’d thought he hadn’t ridden a yard the day before. Even at the very last there’s a lot of things to do and to get. But we all looked slippy and didn’t talk much, so that we got through what we had to do, and had all the horses saddled and packed by about eight o’clock. Even Warrigal had partly got over his temper. Of course I told Starlight about it. He gave him a good rowing, and told him he deserved another hammering, which he had a good mind to give him, if we hadn’t been starting for a journey. Warrigal didn’t say a word to him. He never did. Starlight told me on the quiet, though, he was sorry it happened, “though it’s the rascal’s own fault, and served him right. But he’s a revengeful beggar,” he says, “and that he would play you some dog’s trick if he wasn’t afraid of me, you may depend your life on.”

“Now,” says he, “we must make our little arrangements. I shall be somewhere about Cunnamulla by the end of this month,” (it was only the first week). “Jim knows that we are to meet there, and if we manage that all right I think the greatest part of the danger will be over. I shall get right across by Dandaloo to the back blocks of the West Bogan country, between it and the Lachlan. There are tracks through the endless mallee scrub, only known to the tribes in the neighbourhood, and a few half-castes like Warrigal, that have been stock-riding about them. Sir Ferdinand and his troopers might just as well hunt for a stray Arab in the deserts of the Euphrates. If I’m alive⁠—mind you, alive⁠—I’ll be at Cunnamulla on the day I mean. And now, goodbye, old fellow. Whatever my sins have been, I’ve been true to you and your people in the past, and if Aileen and I meet across the seas, as I hope, the new life may partly atone for the old one.”

LIV

He shook hands with me and dad, threw his leg over Rainbow, took Locket’s bridle as if he was going for an easy day’s ride, and cantered off.

Warrigal nodded to both of us, then brought his packhorse up level, and followed up.

“There goes the Captain,” says father. “It’s hard to say if we’ll ever see him again. I shan’t, anyhow, nor you either, maybe. Somehow I’ve had a notion coming over me this good while as my time ain’t going to be long. It don’t make no odds, neither. Life ain’t no great chop