THE GIRL FROM MASON CREEK

Rotorua Morning Post, Volume 1, Issue 9, 2 September 1931, Page 5

THE GIRL FROM MASON CREEK

Walter

Smyth). i

5 E § . A TALE OF NEW ZEALAND COUNTRY 3LIFE. 1

§ (By

| Author of "Bonzer Jones," "Jean of the Tussock Gountry," etc. | 3 (Copyright — All Rights Reserved). 3

The machine was then set going again and immediately a series of harsh scraping noises came out of the horn. Occasionally a few inartieulate words could be faintly heard, but nothing that in any way resembled "The Old Shako." People started to whisper, then they laughed openly, and uncomplimentary remarks were hurled at the saddler. "By gosh! you've made a rotten ,job of that Seth," Funston growled loudly. "Well, I told you I never heard tell of it!" Seth replied sullenly. ""Then you flamin' well got to do it all over again," the saddler ordered fiercely. Seth lurched back to the machine and the whole performance recommenced. The hall by this time was in an uproar. Cat-calls and abuse came from all sides, but Funston only grinned and Seth was unable to hear, for his head was too far down the horn of the gramophone. At last, the saddler jerked the singer from the machine and Seth tripped over and fell on the floor, where he lay gasping. "Ladies and gents !" Funston shouted above the noise, "have a bit of patience, an' I'll promise you'll hear all right- We didn't quite get th' hang of things first go off, but now I reckon it will be a 'beaut.' Seth's voice was wonderful and mellow that time — listen!" ' Amused surprise kept every one silent while Funston was cranking up the old machine. • The gramophone started scratching and someone laughed, then all in an instant voices were hushed, for "The Old Shako" was being sung with great fidelity. Wonderingly heads were thrust forward and twisted so that the old song' might be heard to better advantage. Even Seth, who still lay on the ground, looked amazed; then slowly a smile spread over his features and he grinned complacently at the bewildered audience. A look of triumph also wreathed Funston's red face as he stood by the machine. No one uttered a sound. The whole roorn seemed under a spell. As the last notes died away, a storm of applause ; broke out and Seth tried to rise to the_ occasion, for, iir his confused brain, he had a hazy notion that they were acclaiming his singing. Ife had climbed up on his knees and was struggling to get one of his big feet firmly fixed on the floor, when a loud shout made him lose his balance, and he fell over again on his- back. "Gosh, that ain't Seth — that's a fake!" a spectical voice yelledLike one man, the crowd rushed the stage. Funston, after a hasty glance at the oncoming avalanehe, abandoned the machine and bolted through the back door. The wagoner who had spoken seized the reeord and glared at it, then he laughed uproariously, "Told you it was a fake," he shouted in triump. "This record was made by a famous concert cove !" The men growled at being made fools of, and they whooped around looking for Funston, but the saddler, being a wise man, was now safe in the back room of the hotel, gulping down a large glass of fiery spirit. Then someone remembered the chief performer in the farce was still in the hall. So like schoolboys just released from an irksome lesson the crowd went charging back to the dance room and Seth was lifted unceremoniously and carried outside to a particularly rank and unpleasantsmelling pool of stagnant water. Amid loud shouts he was tossed in, and when he came up he had acquired an almost complete coat of green. One thing, however, the ducking had cleared his brain, and as he stood up in the. middle of the pond, with the bright moonlight flooding down upon him, he commenced to spit weed and curses in all directions.

Good-humour being once more restored, every one drifted back to the hall, and several dances toolc place without anything eventful happening. It was close on one o'clock when a head was thrust cautiously round the main door. "Ladies an' — er — ladies an' — er — " a voice began.

The big waggoner turned to see who spoke, then he laughed joyfully"Why, darn me, if it ain't th' saddler," he muttered. "I guess he's f or th' pond, boys." He got to feet expectantly. Funston, quick to see that things had not quietened down exactly as he had expected, hurriedly held up his hand. "Now, boys — ladies," he continued quiekly, "all that was only a little bit of extra to make youse laugh — we've got to have a little bit of fun sometimes — this only comes once a year — now I've got a special anouncement to make !"' He waited to see the* effects of his words then, as no one made any attempt to move, he resumed more confidently Tm, as you know, in chdrge of this great record breakin' accordion playin' endurance contest; if I'm not here, then th' glory of winning th' cup can't come to Te Kauri — 'cause I'm th' official timekeeper, an' without me th' man we're all proud of must play in vain !" Funston thrust his thumbs into 'the armholes of Tiis vest and waited confidently for the verdict of those present. The waggoner scowled as though he fancied he was being done out of something, then he glanced at Happy Thomas, who nodded over his instrument as he played, for many surreptitious mugs had been passed to him during the evening. "Well' I guess you'd better come in an' talce charge again !" the waggoner growled, with a very bad grace. " . . . eh boys?" The men assented to the other's suggestion and Funston strode up the hall with quite a jaunty air. Soon after this, many of the women, who had come from a distance, prepared to leave with their • men folk- As two o'clock came round, the hall contained only men who had been to the hogshead so often jthat they did not care whether it was today or to-morrow. Happy sang while he played. The groupi who sat round him solemnly kept time by nodding their heads and languidly waving their armS.

Jess had openly refused Hart's offer to aeeompany her home, and finally she had departed with one of the Mason Creek shepherds, and the squatter had sullenly ridden off alone. Seth Williams also returned to the ' hall, and after mixing spirit with the beer and pond water he had eonsumed, he began capering about, dropping dogweed all over the place, but finally he fell over and went to sleep on the floor. Funston, with several of his friends, was in the dressing room, looking gloomily at the empty hogshead. His face was fiushed and he spoke thiekly, "Cow of a job," he muttered to the man next to him. "Fancy me havin' to sit up all night while that coot plays that hell-fire accordion!" "It's a bit crook for yer — "speeially since th' beer's done," one of the others mufcter sympathetically. "Yerse — -'tis, but I've got an idea. He bent forward ecnfidentially and whispered to the man nearest him, who laughed stupidly. A few ininutes later they all left the dressing room and sauntered outside. The ' moon streamed down on the now desertcd l'oad, and Funston stood a mornent and looked both ways thoughtfully, then he darted over to the little Methodist chureh and pulled the bell rope vigorously- Immediately the first peal broke the silenee, the men outside tlae hall started shouting hoarseiy. Those who were halfasleep inside awoke in sudden alarm, and rau to the door to see what was happening, then Funston rushed in among them. "Boys!" he announced jubilantly, "throw up yer blamed hats, our champion's won !" The saddler's friends grinned broadly, but those who had come from inside the hall just stood and gaped. "What do yer piean?" one individual asked in a puzzled tone. "Why, yer mutton-head — th' cup comes to Te Kauri, of course — Happy's beaten th' record at th' accordion playin' — I got th' cup here !" and from inside his coat he produced a metal objecfc that gicamed coldly in the moonlight. "But it ain't two o'clock to-morrow-yet!" the man objected feebly. "Why, fiame take yer, look at me watch — it's quarter past!" Funston thrust his big time-piece under the otlier's nose; then the man, who was very rnuddled, whooped and tumbled into tlie hall, followed by the others. "You — you won, boy!" he shouted- excitedly. "You won!" Happy looked up and grinned foolishly. "Why, it don'i seem so long since I started :' 'he . stammered, trying to eollc-ct his scattered wits. "After two, boy — after two — you done about iourteen hours, I reckon — I got th' cup here to present to you!" Funston said excitedly. Happy tried to rise, but sustaining mugs and long sitting had made him stiff- He elutehed eagerly at the cup and blinkcd foolishly. "Ain't it fine?" he gasped. Now a number of townspeople rushed into the hall, and arnong^hem was the loeai pubiican. "What th' hell you silly cows want to ring th' church bell for?" the pubiican demanded savagely. "Can't we gct no sleep tonight?" Happy, without understanding what was said, thrust the cup into his hands "Ain't it grand?" he gulped. "I won the cup." The pubiican gazed at it ineredulously, then all at onee he exploded with laughtei*. "Jumpin' Jupiter !" he roared, "this is one of my pint mugs — who th' fiamin' blazes stole it from out of th' bar?" Happy suddeniy found his feet. He glarccl round in search of Funston, and there was murder in his eyes, but.. the practical joker had wisely gone. CHAPTEE XVITHE PIG HUNTERS.

Hart Fenton's face was set and grim as he watched a big mob of sheep being expertly manoeuvred by the dogs of the mountod shepherds. At any other time his eyes might have kindled at tno sigiit, but to-day the who op ing men and noisy animals caused hina to seowl savagely. He found his thoughts disturbed at a time when he wanted to think. Many men had diseovered to their cost that it did not pa.y to thwart the quiclc-tempered squatter; yet a slip of a girl had openly delied him not once but a score of times, and the recollection made him wrathful. It was the ua y atter the Te Kauri dance. Hart hau not been ^to bed since his return to the hdmestead. Thoughts that tortured hina had made sleep impossible. Until he evolved some plan calculated to salve his injured feelings he would not know rest or content. Anotlier thing, very important to Hart, was to discover the identity of the man who had rescued Jess from the marooned shack. Who was he, and where did he come from? J The knowledge that this stranger had ' •succeeded in reaehing the girl after he liad failed was galling- Now, on top o:>: all this, he had cause to believe uhat some secret understanding existed between Jess and the man. If this were so, why had she shown such hostility when questioned? The sheep and men drifted slowly beyond the squatter's vision and gradually the loud barking of dogs died away. The day was bright and waiau, and the Lreezo was suinciently strong to gently stir the tussock grass on the foothills. A horseman was riding slowly towards the station. For a moment the squatter stood up, shading his eyes, ohen he sat down on the varandah and ~ waited the nearer approach of his " manager. A rninute later he hailed I him. MacPlierson glanced over his shoulder, then turning his mount he rode over to the verandah. "We've just put th.' wethers back on th' flat, boss!" he announced as he drew rein. j ^ Hart showed little interest in this piece of information, for he passed no comment but went on slowly rolling a cigarette. At length he seemed to realise that he had been told something, for he muttered a^remark that sounded like "good business" and immediately inquired, "What have you planned for the rest of the day?" (To be Continued) . v j