THE THRILLING HOUR

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LII, Issue 256, 4 December 1909, Page 3

THE THRILLING HOUR

A STIIUUXG AUSTRALIAN STOIU. Jean Bressington came to a standstill and gazed about her; licr face, in tlie slanting rays of the lowering sun, looked a little hopeless. It was the gloaming "of o bright autumn day. A deep haze hung upon the horizon, and omy the faintest of breezes stirred the heat-laden air. Far as the eye could r&ch it lighted upon nothing but ridge after ridge of sau4, every ridge as like to its neighbor as the last one, and the -outermost ones merging into the heat-mist beyond. The point where the girl had stopped marked a small oasis amid the wilderness of sandhills. She stood in a grassy hollow, on one aide of her clumps oi sparsely-growing trees, on the other a mas 3 of scrub, brown and uninviting.

Suddenly she straightened herself, and there rang out in n high clear treble, the call that is familiar throughout the length and breadth of Australia. "000-ec! Coo-ec!" Pretty Jean Bressington was beginning to feel a little desperate. "Coo-ec!" "Was you a-callin' rnc, .missyr" said a harsh voice .suddenly at her elbow. " 'Cos, if so, you don't need to pitch it quite so high. I'm here! ' The girl turned with a drcadl'ul start. N : -ot three ya ids away stood a tatterdemalion "sundowner" a hopelessly ragged tramp, ferocious in matted hair and beard, leering at her from beneath the rim of his shapeless hat. "Call again, my pretty," he grinned, as Jean faced round. "1 like to hear ye, an' it does no harm. There won't nob'ody come. Got it all to ourselves nicelv, ain't we?'' "do awayl" cried the girl, her eyes flashing. "Be careful, my friends may be here at any moment." "My—that's news, now!" And the tramp, enjoving himself, slouched nearer. "See here," "lie added, "don't you try a-iy gammon with me, missy; you ain't got : no friends to conic. You're 'bushed, [ that's wot you are." i What he said was true, and Jean could only stare at lum with affrighted [ eves. What was she to do, unarmed,

against this man? : '••l've bin trackin' ye this mile, went on Hie ruffian, "ami when you started Imwlhi', thinks I to myself a chance for me. Yer wants 'dp? tt'ell, I'm goin'

t'o Vln yer, and mvsclf too. Sit?" Jean snapped-to her big sunshade, and took it well into her grip. Her heart was beating desperately, but she would keep a brave front. In the little bag haiJ"in« from her belt there was some loose monev. That was, no doubt, the tramp's 'objective, she thought, as lie sidled still nearer. ''l've given you warnr.ig, said Jean, speiikin"" as calmly as she could. "A step nearer, and " She made a motion as if seeking her revolver. l!ut the fellow laughed' outright, '•you wouldn't scare a rabbit,' he said. "I ain't g 0 " 1 ' t4 > hurt y e ' but 'JJ ve a'tart any rumpusin', Why, then——" ye made a sudden dive, seized aer

arm, and caught at the gold chain round her neck. The next iiutant the girl was Conscious of acting in a desperate struggle, and with only one prayer in her mind—that she might not lose her footing. The chain snapped, and she felt her bag being wrenched away. The tall blue gume seemed to whirl for one wild second between her and the sky. She thought she was down, and cried aloud, i Then, all at 'once, the tramp let go and sprang back, throwing up his arms and letting liis' booty fall from between his outspread lingers. "Don't shoot, mate!" lie said hoarselv. "fi'm on the square! Put down thai gun!" "I won't sho'ot, for the 3'oung lady's sake," said a man's strong voice. "But you've only just saved yourself. Clear out, or I'll drop you yet, like the varmint you are! Scoot, 1 say! Keep your hands up! Slide!" When Jean could see with sufficient clearness she made out the form of a big, broad-shouldered man, who had stepped out from the clump of trees and now held the tramp in range with his glinting revolver. The tattered ruflian stayed not on the order of his going. He ran, shuffling over the ground at surprising speed, carrying oil' his worthless life like a beaten cur.

Faster!" cried'the newcomer sternly, nd the affrighted wretch sped on, his lands held high, till a sand ridge hid iim and ho profaned the scene n'o more. Then the rcscuor lowered his revolver nd came slowly towards the girl. She was seated on the hole of a tree, or the simple reason that she t. tand a moment longer, and she was rying s'oftly for sheer relief. The man stopped a few paces away, egarding the pretty figure with anxious ace and knitted brows. He was a Tey-haired man, old enough to be Jean IressJington's father, and some memory eemed stirred as he noted her bright air and the smooth white brow. "That s'ort needs shootin' 011 sight, ,e said. "You're not hurt, are you, lisay?" "Hurt—ohj no!" Jean dried her eyes, nd looked up cheerily. "I'm not hurt . bit—thanks to you. How splendid to e so brave and good." The man smiled humorously, and a ittle sadly. "Not much bravery or goodness' ither," he said, "in keeping foul hands If a young lady like you." He stooped and picked up the chain nd bag. "Didn't get away with anything, uid e, the varmint? But 1 was scared .'lien I heard you call, missy. To tell he truth, I've been following you up his long while, scein' you alone; but wasn't goin' to show myself so long a there weren't need, and I just' stepped .side to put it to Jim " "Jim?" Jean rose, a little anxiously. "Only my hors'e, missy." And the nan gave a flickering smile, "He unlerstands me like a Christian, but in list that instant the varmint closed 111. reckon I could never have forgiven nyself if he'd laid a finger more on ou." His voice trembled. "I've got a aughter of my own—just about your ge," he added. "Fair hair and slim, ad blue eyes like yours." He came up and put the bag and :hain into her hands. Jean looked at him. A great, big ellow, someone a man might be deslerately afraid of if need were, but no voiuan ever, she was sure. She wiu lrawn to him—his' close grey hair, Jus ; ine, weathcrbeatcu face. .Moreover, nc lad saved her from robbery, and worse. 1 Ho had looked at her « v ith fatherly 1 :yes, and spoken of his own child. She 1 Held out the chain towards him with 1 in impulsive gesture, her color rising. "I'm so vory grateful," she said timid- 1 ly. "]) wonder—would you keep this—ask your own daughter to wear it, as a token of what you once did for me 1 The man st'ood silent, looking down j at the slender thread of gold with the little locket attached, and Jeau was liaii ' afraid she had offended him. But that J idea vanished the moment he spoke. ' "My little girl and I are parted, missy," he said gently. "She don't know touch about her father, and I wouldn't ] have it ditrerent. You're from the Old Country, 1 guess. That's where she ii ' n'ow, growing up sweet and good and innocent, bless her!" Jean folt there was something here she did not understand; but she i-cnildi' guess at it —guess ju.i't a little. The man was spurred and armed; lie I 1 had his horse near; he was nciiin-r; tramp nor harvester. A suspicion came |' to her of what lie was. but sue luum i. : at him unfalteringly. 1 "i.ou'll go hack t'o your daughter| some day," she said gently, "or alio il' come to you. Won't you keep tiicl' |chain?" |

He shook his head. "No need, missy. 1 shan't need remind that, for 'once in a wa-t, 1 was able to do somebody a bit ol good. Where is it you want to get to, mis--./ —the town?" "Yes," said Jean. "If you could put I me on the right road?" He rubbed his chin and -laughed awkwardly. "It's that right road as 1 m not particularly eager for," lie said. "Still ' lie stepped a little way lroni her into I the open, and scanued the wide horizon [under his hand, lie stooped and seemed to listen.

"AW!" he said suddenly, with a cnauge of tone.

Jean gazed round tiieni, startled. AH She could see was a flight of birdsparrots—that had risen screaming Horn a dump of trees in the distance. "You see ihat, missy?" questioned the man, turning to her. "Those birds? Something startled thein!" Jean replied. "Aye, something startled them!" And the man set his teeth. "The patrol, I reckon!" He threw himself down and set his jear to the ground. "It's them!" lie cried Suddenly, leaping to his feet. "Half-a-dozen of 'emmounted! Stay where you are, missy, the men'll take you home. They're troopers out after Jack Bolderson, bushranger, and .lack Bolderson is me, missy! You'll forgive me if I cut and run?" He made a dasli -past the startled girl to clear the bush and reach his horse. Even Jean's untrained ears could catch from afar the thud of coming hoofs. She s't'ood transported with excitement. The next instanl there was the .sharp, clean smack of cordite through the still air. Jean caught up her skirts and ran desperately in tlie track of the bushranger. lie had rushed hack into cover, j and as she came up he stumbled and fell forward helplessly. The girl knew no tenor now. She ran to him and gave him all lit-r young, vigorous support. "They've winged tne!'' he gasped. "Got me this time, fair!" lie was oil his feet, but one foot dragged alter him, maimed and useless.

"They haven't got yon yet. said tli girl, very white, her eye* gleaming. >lt tore off "his s'oft gaiter, auil there, Imll way between knee and ankle, was tli bullet-mark. "I'm done." aaiil the man. He touchci his revolver'. "Kinpt.v!" he groaned. '"Never mind," said .lean, "we wil manage without that." Sin; swathed his wound and bound i with his neckcloth. ller movement were swift and sure. It was no time fo dallying. The patiol wa» eoming up a a canter. Having iiuMied Jier rough attem]>t a surgerv. Jean looked round a littli wildly. "Olcar out, missy," whispered tin man. '"ll'll load "Hush! No, for my sake!'' \\ itl linger oil lip she pointed to a little pil scooped under an overhanging ridge 01 roots and sand. "In there," she mo tinned, "quick!" The man looked at her an instant then obeyed, lie crawled in backwards painfully, till head and shoulders only showed beneath the overhanging ridge but he c'ould get in 110 further. Instant' ly Jean opened the big red parasol slit was carrying, sot it down m front oi him, and ran out into the open—only just in time. -A- group of horscjncn wove reining in It the edge of the 'oasis. At sight of the girl's figure they sat amazed, and the captain spurred forward with an ixclamation of incredulous dismay. "Jliss Bressington—you';" "Yes, Captain Vcrrinder, I!'' ericd lean, witli tremendous indignation. But slie could Have screamed for joy to see liim and a'o other. "I am amazed!" stammered the ollicer- "I—you here?" Aad Se bared liis head and drew a deep breath, as if the thought of what might have happened —and had not, thank goodness!— ras a little too much for him. Jean eyed him severely. "You nearly frightened me to death, daptaia Verrindcr. Fanev .shouting like that, and poor me picking flowers here, ind thinking Australia as safe a place .6 England!"

ft "It's a piece of enchantment," said l the officer, recovering. "We're al'tor the e bushranger, Bolderson, Miss Brcssinga ton." r "you horrid creature!'' interrupted Jean, with a line llas'h in her eyes, r "Uhat hateful work!'-' 3 "One's duty 'often is," said Verrinder,: ] I with a little smile and a big shrug, jf "But have you seen him? We Eliought ■ ta'd dodged in her®, ,, j "Herer' cried Jean. She looked 3 around her in terror. "Here? Good i' gracious!" I Captaiu Verrinder lingered his mousJ tache. He and Jean had met before — L many times. Indeed, on the lust occasion the young officer had made up his mind to —well, to do some filing he could scarcely act on now, out on duty, Ji e -men behind him, reined up, still as statues, taking it all in. "Y-'ou can assure us, then, .Miss Jires« sington," he said, "that our man didn't dodge in here?" "Most certainly not!" said Jca'i promptly. "Fancy thinking a bushranger would be here!" | "And you've seen nothing of luni whatever?" | "Nothing!" And Jean looked Captain Verrinder straight iu the e\es with a wide and wondering stare. '"Why, i should have died of fright! i should have screamed the place down! '

A smile passed among the men. For an instant Verrinder hesitated, then he I gathered up his reins. "We must have been mistaken, men; i we'll try that other clump. .Miss ISressington"—lie turned to the girl again—"l'm just going to circuit by those trees ' yonder. It will take about ten minutes, j then I am coming back to escort you safely home." The horsemen were barely out of ( sight when, with Jean standing before him as a screen, the bushranger crawled ! out 'of liis hiding-place behind tile para- . sol. "We've got ten minutes!" cried the ' girl in agony. "Oh, quick! Where is your horse?" He showed her, anil she helped him to the place where Jim stood, his bridle over a bough, motionless, waiting. The man clambered into the saddle and drew a mighty breath; tliev wouldn't get him now. Then he looked down at the fair, troubled face at his side, and bared his head, "Heaven bless you, missy I" he said brokenly. "You've done me the one good turn that's never forgotten!" "Wliat' are you going to do!" she asked. "Gain the coast. To-night's start is all I want. There's a pearling scho'oner there; they'll take me off." "And then?" she breathed. And she laid -her open hand an instant, light as a sighed prayer, on his. The man nodded silently. ''There'll be no more of it, missy," he said .softly. "Will you say, "Heaven bless you!'—for your 'own sake and my little girl's?" "Good-bye, and Heaven bless you!'" said Jean fervently. The rider bent and murmured something at his horse's ear; he uttered one last broken word to the girl who had saved him, and then the place was empty —lie had gone. When Upturn Verriiuler returned—perhaps a little over the time—he l'uiind -Uiss Bressington awaiting him with folded sunshade. "You're pale," he said, dismounting. "Did you think 1) wasn't coming back?" "Jt did occur to me that duty possibly- " j "I've done with duty for to-day," the 'captain interrupted. Ik- drew the bridle through one arm, and her' arm through the other. "When you're tired you shall ride." he said, "i'll hold you 011." Hut it was to his heart Captain Wr riniler was holding licr Mure half the way was done. The sun went down slowly, and the stars came out, but the lovers heeded neither—heeded nothing till the town lights came in sight, and in the distance there was again the sound of hoofsone 'of Yerrinder's men with a saddlehorse for her. "Dick—Dick," cried the girl, "while we are still alone, before anybody knows Oh, first of all," she broke oil', "tell me how long w'ould a man riding for his life take to reach the uoant?" "From where?" asked the capt.au, with his arms about her. ' From where you found me," falteivd Jean. "lle'd be there by now," said Ve, 1 - rindcr. "Oh!" she gave a great sigh. "Then I can confess. Dick, I told you just now a most fearful story. I did sec tue man you wanted, lie was there ■' "Behind your parasol," said Dick. ".My darling little girl, alas, I knew it ail tile time!" And Jean was silent, utterly astound-

ed. Neither she nor her big story had saved the bushranger at all, but iove—"Which at times is too much for duty," said Yerrinder c'ompunctiously. And lie kissed her again to case his conscience.—By A. Rand, in Pearson's Weekly.