“Jacky—­do you know, I feel that somehow the end of this business is approaching.  What the end is to be I cannot foretell.  One thing, however, is clear.  Sooner or later we must run foul of people, and when that occurs—­well,” throwing his cigarette from him viciously, “it simply means shooting.  And—­”

“Yes, Bill, I know what you would say.  Shooting means killing, killing means murder, and murder means swinging.  You’re right, but,” and the girl’s eyes began to blaze, “before that, Lablache must go under.  Whatever happens, Bill, before we decorate any tree with our bodies, if our object is not already obtained, I’ll shoot him with my own pistol.  I guess we’re embarked on a game that we’re going to see through.”

“That’s so.  We’ll see it through.  Do you know what stock we’ve taken, all told?  Close on twenty thousand head, and—­all Lablache’s.  They’re snug over at ‘Bad Man’s’ Hollow, and a tidy fine bunch they are.  The division with the boys is a twentieth each, and the balance is ours.  Our share is ten thousand.”  He ceased speaking.  Then presently he went on, harking back to the subject of Horrocks.  “I wish that man could be stayed.  His failure must precipitate matters.  Should he drown, as he surely will, the whole countryside will join in the hue and cry.  It is only his presence here that keeps the settlers in check.  Well, so be it.  It’s a pity.  But I’m not going to swing.  They’ll never take me alive.”

“If it comes to that, Bill, you’ll not be alone, I guess.  You can gamble your soul, when it comes to open warfare I’m with you, an’ I guess I can shoot straight.”

Bill looked at the girl in astonishment.  He noted the keen deep eyes, the set little mouth.  The fearless expression on her beautiful face.  Her words had fairly taken his breath away, but he saw that she had meant what she said.

“No, no, girlie.  No one will suspect you.  Besides, this is my affair.  You have your uncle.”

“Say, boy, I love my uncle—­I love him real well.  I’m working for him, we both are—­and we’ll work for him to the last.  But our work together has taught me something, Bill, and when I cotton to teaching there’s nothing that can knock what I learn out of my head.  I’ve just learned to love you, Bill.  And, as the Bible says, old Uncle John’s got to take second place.  That’s all.  If you go under—­well, I guess I’ll go under too.”

Jacky gave her lover no chance to reply.  As he opened his lips to expostulate and took a step towards her she darted away, and disappeared into the sitting-room.  He followed her in, but the room was empty.

He paused.  Then a smile spread over his face.

“I don’t fancy we shall go under, little woman,” he muttered, “at least, not if I can help it.”

He turned back to the veranda and strolled away towards the settlement.

CHAPTER XXIII