WOODONGA: A TRAGEDY OF STATION LIFE.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXVI, Issue 42, 18 February 1905, Page 11

WOODONGA: A TRAGEDY OF STATION LIFE.

(Aethor of " A Fight to a Finisb," " In the TrackAf the Storm," etc)

CHAPTER Vl.—Continued. T had stepped into the room through rti-ouen window, and could see that Xatever else he might be the owner of Z,d«iga run was a methodical man business. His broad, leather-covered fMe was strewn with packets of neatlyfnlded papers, each one apparently eninei with both date and cowtenta, and JE, were also a. number of open letters Si he seemed to have been in the very do f folding when I came in. _ "But you seem to be busy, sir," I said, weak! hope that even now the explanation mi ff ht be put off for a few hours. ■ "Wt let mc disturb you; I can go into the parlour—l see the ladies are there ''""Busy- Oh, dear, no: I'm not busy noff Looked through the accounts, -you know and that sort of thing. These."— ' an d he indicated tbe letters on the table , not business. Notes, most of them, from people you'll see on Monday, about the hunt. By the bye, how aboud, Tom- : jat? Elsie "says you've made friends with him. Would you like him for Monday? Not a better horse than Tom-cat 1 after kaßgaroos, ; if it's a bit rough. What <io you say, eh 1" "Oh, I think I should like to try him, if you'don't mind, sir. I think wo understand each other now, and I coulda't wish f OE a better horse." '""Good. Trust one of the Yorkshire gtevenses to know a good horse. Yes, B j r - by all means, you take Tom-cat. I only asked because I've a note here from the man who rode him last time. Mobcrieff says he's got a new horse he'd back to come in ahead of Tom-cat, and I don't . ff ant him to have a walk over of it any way." It had come suddenly, and it had to be faced but I felt that the coloxir came into my cheeks, and for a moment 1 almost stammered. fMoncrieff—Afoncriefl', sir " I said. "Ah, you've heard of him from the girls, of course. Yes, he's a good man on a horse, but you needn't mind him; and on Tom-cat, sir—on Tom-cat, you'll show him the way in. I don't bet; but it" I did, sir, I'd put my money on you." "I wish, Mr. Leslie, I could say the same about the betting, for m that ease I shouldn't have to tell you what an idiot I liiade of myself down at Melbourne on. the Cup day." "Idiot, eh? Well, sir, many a man-— many a good fellow, too, let mc tell you— has made an idiot of himself iv that. way: •why that very fellow, Moncrieff—a fine fellow too in most ways—can't see a horse race without betting. His one fault, sir, Ido believe, but serious— devilish serious." "Yes, sir, I know it is, and I've made np my mind never to bet again Us long as 1 live. I'm sorry to say my story has joinetbing to do with Mr. Moncrieff, too. ;I wish it hadn't, but if he's to be here I must tell it, that you may understand bow it is I can't meet him as a friend." •' "Not meet him a-, a friend, sir? Not meet him as a friend?" he repeated, a " \:Sdt lush -mounting to Ms face. "Pooh, pooh, sir—nonsense. Some foolish difference over a bet, of course. Forget it, «■"■ sir—forget it, and shake hands like a gentleman. Did you win his money, or bc'yours, eh? - ' ''Neither, eir. Wβ had no bet, but we did have a quarrel, and I think you'll admit, sir, when you hoar the story that I ein't shake hands upon it." " "Nonsense, sir, nonsense. Any quarrel can be made up and shaken hands npon. Take my word for it, sir; I'm a great deal older than you." , "But in this case, sir, it isn't the quar- . rel only that stands in the way," I said, a little stiffly. "I don't feel disposed to know Mr. Moncrieff after what has passed between us." Mr. Leslie's face flushed of «a still darker red, and his eyes seemed to grow , brighter as he stared at mc- in silence for sonic moments. I thought he was going to fly into a passion, but instead he passed bis hand across his face, and threw ' himself back ha his chair. "Well, sir, well." He said after a pause. "Tell mc this story, if you must, and let mc judge for myself. I'll tell you ; what I think when IVe heard it —aevilish .qniek, sir—devilish quick." "Well, sir, the truth of it is that I bet oa the Cup and won: I won two thousand on Laughing Jackass. It was Moncrieff that induced mc to bet, but I'm not finding' fault with him for that." Leslie laughed a grim laugh. ' ; No, I suppose not. Laid you on to a two thousand pound win, did he? No, you could ■ nardly be very hard on him for that, could youT , His tone was almost contemptuous, anil ■V felt the blood come into my cheeks again. "I didn't cay he laid mc on, Mr. Leslie; , * said he induced mc to bet." "Y el \ well—and you won two thou™Bd. Not much to quarrel about in that -*ot much, sir—not much." ■ Excuse.me, Mr. Leslie," I said. "I •«ant say there was; indeed, I said I • oiont,blaine him for it." P% my firm determination to say ■ ■'■nothing that could givp offence enabled ' fl-A keep my tem P er even us well as .; In B p ite of everything no doubt . m y-way of speaking showed that I was ...on the verge of getting angry, for lie ™ up, and for a moment or two lookagain mc fiercely ' thea he sat back , le grumbled. "go on; .«M hear the rest. Hot-tempered, too ..~™T . too, like the rest of them." ,J ww determined that I would rnifij the opportunity while I ■Swj and tl?e irrit I felt had retS i , 8 ° f nn y Citation in telling nil J* truth ' T b *S™ the beginJJJ "nd told it to the end-this time , interru Ption. More than and .! ed, Mr Leslie moved uneasily, like " Uttered something that sounded lie w i° ' bllt as l took no notice the 2 n °w, arth ? r but Leard mc t0 n : reacue d the point in£ loncrieff tur °ed left mc hotel i Spa Per lading-room at the eyei ,v pran ° ±rom llis sea.t—his <4a and a dark red s P ot on *c rnrf C "~ and wal ked the length of *waTi, aud back a g a in without a froni of af n - lle sto PP ecl suddenly in you Sfw *y> sir—went and left •iVuIK hat? God > sir = it <* n ' fc "It is true, dofit - J —a fool, sir; lalf a bpaLp v' nor —* paused just tefore I said it-'-nor a * »»» made a half movement ? . ■

as if he v/tould have struck mc; then he turned from mc with an oath. 'Damn it, sir, it's impossible. He couldn't "have done it, sir—couldn't, I say—coflldn't." "Couldn't, Mr Leslie? I say he did." He walked the length of "the room, and. came back with slower steps. "And Horton," he said, with a new look of suspicion in his eyes, as he stopped before me —"And Horton, sir; where does he come in? You said he got you out of the scrape. What had be to do with it?" For half a second I hesitated. I had been a fool to get Horton into it at all, but there was no help for it now. "Ilorton heard what passed at the. hotel, sir. He believed the story I told him and brought mc here when I was almost cleaned out." "Believed it, sir? Yes, damn him; he'd believe anything against MouLTieif." "And you will believe nothing, I see, sir. Well, Mr Leslie, I hope you won't object to my asking Horton to put mc up for the night; I can't well leave Woodonga before morning." He had turned -away to make another circuit of the room as I spoke, but now he wheeled as if I had struck him. "Leave, sir? Leave Woodonga." He almost gasped the words, and his face grew purple as he started at mc with wide j open eyes. "What do you mean by that?-' "Mean, sir? I mean, that a liar and a slanderer cannot accept your hospitality, and is certainly no fit company for your family.' . As I spoke he grew calm. The lightning went out of his eyes, and the colour left bis cheeks till they had grown almost pale by coutaist. He stood silent while I suppose I could have counted ten; then he spoke again, but in a different tone. '"You are right, Mr Stevens, and I was •wrong. 1 would ask you to shake hands and forgive mc, but I daren't do it yet. I don/t think you a liar, sir—believe" mc, 1 dou't; but this story has upset mc. Mon-c-ri«ff' is a. friend of mine; I never give up a friend without a fight for it. There roust be some mistake—some explanation. You'll give mc a chance to find it out, and put matters straight, won't you Mr Stevens? Then 111 ask you to take my hand, and to forgive mc." There was something in both his words and tone that appealed to mc irresistibly; something in the expression of his eyes that made mc feel as if 1 could have begged his pardon. My anger evaporated as I looked. | "Mr Leslie," T said, with a choking | feeling in my throat, t"I am sorry toj have put you in such, a position. It was all my fault in the beginning, so the least I can do is to take my phare of it. I said I'd be guided by. you when you had heard my story. I won't go hack on that. What ought T to do?" He looked at mc hard, and I thought tears came over his eyes. Then he made one step forward and laid his hand on my_ shoulder. "My God, sir, you're a gentleman—oncf of the old breed too. Well, then, stay hero, Stevens, until I can get things straightened out. Think as well of mc as you can, sir, till I can ask you to forgive mc for what I said." A merry laugh came pealing along th° verandah. I looked at him and consented. CHAPTER VII. THE 'MEET" AT WOODOONGA. The house was full of visitors that Sunday evening, so there was no risk, that I should be missed when I strolled, down to the foot of the garden after dark to the spot where I had parted with Horton on Saturday night. I found him, as I had expected, waiting there, in the hope that I would come, and I told him the result of my conversation with Mr Leslie the night before. He listened without speaking till I had finished, and then, after a. minute's pause, he . remarked: "Well, everything depends on to-morrow." We both smoked in silence for a few minutes, and then he said, "Well, I had better not keep you now, but you might come over to my diggings and have some breakfast in the morning before you start. You won't be missed then, and I may think of some hint in the meantime that might be useful." "But won't you be in the , hunt," I asked. "Mc?" he said with a tone of bitterness that as new to mc. "No. I'm neither a Leslie nor a Stevens. You may as well hear it from mc as from him —my grandfather was a convict, though, as far as I ever knew, ■he was as good a gentleman as George. Leslie, and more honest than a score of such men as the Honorable Charles Moncrieff. I'm not good enough to Tide with Mr Leslie's daughters, of course." He paused for an instant as if to recover himself, and then he added in a different tone, "But you won't mind, though you know it, will you? You don't want to'see too much of Monerieff; and he may be over early. "All right, Horton. old fellow," I said heartily. -111 be along pretty early." 1 held out my hand, and, as far as I remember for the first time, Horton grasped it in his own. There was something in that silent hand-grip that stayed with mc: something that put ray" friendehip with Horton on a new footing. Till then he had done everything for mc, and while I admired him and was grateful, I had felt it just a little burdensome; now, though it was only a matter of feeling, I felt that I could do something to repay him. The almost fierce pressure of his hand on mine told mc as much as that. The recollection of that grip was the first that came back to mc when I | awoke to Ree the first rosy light in the eastern sky etealing through raj' Venetian blind. It was the morning of the kangaroo hunt, and early as it was there seemed already to be a note of excitement and preparation in the air. The impatient bark of a dog, the occasional neigh of a horse, showed that Tom and his assistants were at their post. Even from the bouse itself there were sounds of life unusual at so early an hour. I thought I could distinguish Mr Leslie's whistle as he paced the verandah, and I certainly detected sounds both of talking and laughter from the other end of the house, where the girls and their visitors had their quarters. I didn't take long to dYess and to find my way to the stable yard, where horses were being groomed by Tom and two or three assistants, while Jacky and Fuzzy, the two "blacks" of the establishment, looked <m with sparkling i

eyes and broadly grinning faces at the work which they were careful not to share. The Overseer's cottage at Woodoonga ■was about quarter of a mile to the left, and a small clump of native forest shut it ofi' from the house; beyond it again were the houses for the stockmen and boundary riders, and extensive stockyards and stables for the men's horses. "So you managed to come down," was Horton's greeting, as he grasped mc by the hand at the door,'and it seemed to mc the grip spoke of a doubt in his mind as to how far my first impulse of the night .before would have stood the ordeal of a night's consideration. I thought I- could understand it; and yet I felt as if I could understand Mr Leslie too. If it was a question between the Honorable Charles Moncrieff, the son of an English nobleman, and a man whose grandfather was known to have been sent to Australia as a convict, even if the man himself was all thao could be wished, it wasn't to be wondered at he should prefer the man whoee title—even if it were only one of courtesy —everybody recognised. "Nobody come yet, up at the house, I suppose?" was Horton's first question. "No; they'll begin to arrive about seven o'clock, so as to get a cup of tea before it's time to make a start. The ones that, have far to come will hardly manage that. Our friend will have put up at the SutcliflVs—his cousin's place is twenty miles from here, and if he's bringing a new horse to show him oft" he'll take care not to ride him far this morning." By this time we were seated at breakfast in the little dining room of the cottage, waited on by a dignified looking Chinaman who was summarily dismissed by a nod from my companion. I leaned forward over the table towards Horton. t ''Lqok here," I said. "I've been puzzling myself half the night to make out what you meant by saying that everything depended on to-morrow; do you mean on something I can do?" He looked at mc for a v monient without speaking. "Well," he said at last, "look here— it's like this, Stevens: Leslie's got a craze about riding. He rides well himself, and I believe he forms his opinions of men mostly I 'by their seat on a I horse. Tf you had baulked over Tom[cat he'd never have looked at you again. That fellow MoncriefTs a 'fine i rider, to give the devil his due, and if he shows you his heels at all badly today, he'll believe any story Moncrieff tells him. Sounds like a joke to say so. doesn't it? but it's as true as "03----pel." I suppose I looked grave, for I certainly felt so. '-But, confound it" Horton, , ' I said, "that looks bad. He said in his note to Sir Leslio that he was ready to bet cv his horse." "Oh. he'd bet on anything: that doesn't, count. ]f I could'ride Tom-cat myself I shouldn't be one bit afraid to tackle him—not a bit. - As it is you must get in ahead if it's possible:' at any rate you mustn't be far behind." "And if not. Ilorton?" I asked. "If not—if not? It means more than I can tell you now for mc; for you it means that he'll make the place too hot to hold you. Tie can't afford 1o leave you here. Confound it, man: don't you see it means everything to him 1" ' ° "No," I said, rather helplessly. 1 suppose. "Xo, I don't. What "can my being here matter.so greatly to him. if Mr Leslie believes that I was too drunk to remember what happened that night? If I could stay after t/hat I don't see what harm it could do him." "Only this. Stevens. He'll take no chances. What he wants is to marry Miss Leslie, dou't you see? I don't believe she cares for him. but you can »ever tell; and then his father's a Viscount. He's got very little money, but he knows Leslie has the name of being the richest run-Tj older in this part of Victoria. No — you may take my word for it; if he doesn't go you do." '"And you think Tom-eat can do it?" I said, after a pause, during which I had seen half a dozen expressions follow one another across Horton's face, as he watched mc eagerly. "Do it?" he oxc-laimed impetuously. "I only wish 1 had the chance with him. Perhaps he may have got a horse that could beat him in the open; but get him in a clearing, and you've only to mind yourself and give Tom-cat his head." "I wish you had the chance, Horton, with all my heart; but as it is I'll see what I can do. He eha'n't have a walk over if I can help it." He started up, and we gripped hands once more across flic table. I don't know whether he had any idea of it, but I felt that if Horton couldn't do it I was the next best man. He hadn't said it, indeed, but I knew why ho would have won; and if Moncrieff's victory meant that I must go from Woodonga, then I knew that my stake was something like his. We sat talking over our breakfast for some time, for I was anxious to learn, all I could, both about Tom-cat, of whose peculiarities I knew only a little, and of kangaroo hunting, of which I knew nothing at all. At last Horton rose: '•Now, I fancy it's about time you were off. They'll be pretty well gathered by this time, and Li slie mustn't get it into his head you want to shirk at the last." "Whereabouts shall we find the kangaroos, do you think? But I suppose we can trust the dogs to pick up the scent?" "Oh, no, you'Jl do better than that. Our kang.iroo dogs run mostly by sight; but Jacky's worth half a dozen pointers; he or Fuzzy will pick them out a mile away. Now, good luck to you. I eha'n't be good for much to-day till T hear h-iw you've got on. And mind—if Leslie wants anyone to back you up in anything I know about, send him to mc." I waved him a good-bye, and went back to the house. He had been right in thinking it was time, for it was evident that most, if not all the hunting party had arrived. Tom seemed to have got at least half the stockmen on the run to lend a hand; and yet a good many of the visitors hadn't been able to get anybody to look after their horses while they went inside. Now, however, they were preparing for a start, and the great stable yard was a bu3y scene, which I stood watching for a minute or two till I was roused by a shout from Mr Leslie: "Hallo, Stevens! Where the devil have you been? I've begun to think something was wrong. All ready now, I hope. No time to lose, I can tell you. We're late already, sir—devilish late. Tell them to get Tom-cat, and come along." In another minute Tom-cat had been brought oufc by Tom himself, who was no doubt already in the secret of his special importance on the occasion, for he glanced at mc critically as I sprang into the saddle. "Keep him back as much as ye can, sir, till ye cets in a clearing. f Jhe

devil himself wouldn't catch him in a ■clearin'," he said, in a low tone, as he turned away. I rode after Mr Leslie, who had i already started -with a number of the party, including six or eight girls, among whom, of course, were his two daughters. I knew the ladies already, having seen them the day before, but I found myself glancing eagerly, and yet a little nervously, around to catch a glimpse of Monerieff and bis new horse, on whom so much depended. They were nowhere to be seen, however, and 1 rode up to the advance ■•party, wondering as I went whether by any chance he liatl failed to come after all. "That you, Stevens?" was the greeting I received, from Mr Leslie, who seemed in high spirits, and had apparently got over the feeling of awkwardiioss which had made him avoid mc the day before, as far as he could without incivility. "Glad to sec you look all right. Got your work cut out for you, too. Moncrieff's got no end of a horse—no end, sir—no end. No, he's not here yet. Got in late; saving his mount, no doubt, as he came along. Don't blame him for that, sir. either. Having a cup of tea at the house. Be along before we see anything, I'll be bound. Never far away at the start, and devilish near at the finish. Devilish near, sir—devilish near." "Well, Mr Leslie, Tom-cat and I won't be far away, I hope, though it's my first run after kangaroos."' "Oh, you'll do, Mr Stevens. You'll •do, all right. Save bini a bit at the beginning; lie up pretty near in the open, and give him his head in the clearings. Tom-cat will look after the rest himself." I joined the ladies of the party, while Mr Leslie rode forward, accompanied at a slinging trot by Jacky and Fuzzy, the two blacks, and presently I found myself riding beside Elsie Leslie. As usual she was in high spirits, and evidently took the deepest interest in Tom-cat. "You know how much depends on his doing well?" she said in a low tone, leaning towards mc as we rode side by side. "Something. I'd be afraid to say I know it all," I said in return. "•Well, I'll tell you one thing at any rate; I should hate to see any horse come in ahead of old Tom-cat; and I think I should bate worst of all for Mr Moncrieff to beat him—that would be horrid." I glanced at her quickly. "Why Mr Moncrieff?"' 1 ventured to ask. themg-h I wondered at myself when I did it, "Why—-why? Cα, you don't know Mr MoncriefT, ot you -wouldn't need to ask mc. I'm sure you would feel the same." Sh« didn't scorn to wish to say more, for she turned away, and we rode on for. some distance without speaking. We lgid gone, perhaps, three miles, keeping on the higher ridg« on which tbe home station stood, and now I could sec that a little farther on the-. Tidge was covered wit-h forest, or at any rate with trees of some kind, though their leaves of a blue-grey colour didn't remind mc of any tree* 1 bad ever seen before. Itfr Leslie and the two blacks were a good deal nearer to it than the rest of the party, when suddenly I saw him wheel Ms horse till it faced us, and wave us back with his hand. "They've seen them. They've seen them," my companion exclaimed, in a voice of irrepressible excitement- "Now you'll sen the fun, if it's a real 'old m«n' kangaroo." . Wo had pulled up our horses, and the rest of the party halted as they reached us, till the whole of the hunt was gathered in little groups, waiting the signal to go. There was no pack of hounds, such as I bad been accustomed to in an English hunting field, —indeed, with the exception of two or three large, solemn-looking hounds that lia-d followed their masters, and now kept close to them, there were no dogs at all but Mr Leslie's four, now held in two pairs by two of the stockmen. Conversation went or., by fits and starts, among the party, but all eyes were fixed on tbe spot where Mr Leslie sat silently on his horse, like an equestrian statue of expectation, four or five hundred yards in advance. The two blacks -who had accompanied him had disappeared, and my companion told mc we had to wait for their cry before we moved. The excitement was growing every moment. Riders had tightened their saddle girths, and sxt with gathered reins, and eyes fixed on the motionless figure, in eager anticipation. I had almost forgotten Moncrieff in ray own excitement, till my companion almost whispered tbe words, "All, here they are." I glanced behind mc, and saw Moncrieff and Miss Leslie ride forward a few yards on my left. He looked round. His eyes caught mine, and I thought his dark cheeks flushed. (To be continued next Saturday.)