aggressive tone,
'and I thought I'd better make a note of Wombo and that gin having come
to the head-station, in case of there being trouble with the Blacks.'

'Why should there be trouble with the Blacks?' she asked, in manner
equally unconciliatory.

'Well, ye know--though, I daresay, it wouldn't seem of much consequence
to you--Wombo's gone agen the laws of the tribe, and that's a serious
matter. If they know he's skulking here under protection, they'll be
spearing the cattle, and the Boss won't like that.'

'I'll explain to Mr McKeith,' said Lady Bridget haughtily.

'Well, I reckon it's best not to keep them on the head-station against
the Boss's orders,' persisted Ninnis.

Lady Bridget set her little white teeth. 'Naturally, Mr McKeith's
orders don't apply to ME--as I had to tell Mrs Hensor.'

'Mrs Hensor knows the Boss better than most people,' said Ninnis, at
which Lady Bridget flashed out.

'We need not discuss that question, Mr Ninnis.'

Ninnis' jaw stiffened underneath his shaggy goatee.

'Well, I guess you know your own business, Mrs McKeith, and it's up to
you to square things with the Boss.'

Lady Bridget reared her small form and bent her head with great
stateliness.

'But I'll just say, though,' went on Ninnis, 'that I hear Harris of the
police is coming along. And what Harris doesn't think he knows about
the heel of the law being kept on Blacks--and every other darned unit
in the creation scheme'--muttered Ninnis in parenthesis--'ain't entered
in the Almighty's Log-book.'

Ninnis expectorated over the veranda railings--a habit of his that
jarred on Lady Bridget.

'Well, what about Harris?'

'He's had his eye on Wombo and would be glad of an opportunity to best
him--on account of a little affair about a colt Wombo rode for him at
the last Tunumburra races--and lost the stakes--out of spite, Harris
declares.'

'Oh, I know about that--and I told Mr Harris what I thought about his
treatment of the Blacks. But he can't punish Wombo if I choose to have
him here. I don't think Mr McKeith would bring Harris to Moongarr--he
knows I can't bear him.'

'Well, I reckon that's up to you to square with the Boss,' repeated
Ninnis surlily. 'I'm told Harris is on the look-out for desperate
characters going along the Leura--these unionist organisers--dropping
in at stations on pretence of getting rations and spying out the land,
and calling on the men to join them. There was a boundary rider from
Bree