sat there--a faint breeze that had risen with the approach of
sunset, cooling his heated body--he thought again about Moongarr Bill's
letter. He looked at the great pyre in front, and caught the gleam of
the lagoon below through the bare branches of the trees the little
ripple on its surface, the freshening green at its marge. Then he gazed
out over the vast plain towards the horizon. From his low position on
the steps, the middle distance was hidden from him. Through the reddish
tinge cast by the lowering sun, he could discern, far off likewise, the
unmistakable signs of new-springing grass and the course of the river,
for so long non-existent. From the gully he heard the sound of rushing
water. It had been a roaring torrent just after the storm, and he knew
that a flood must have come down from the heads.

Yes, the Drought had broken. The plain would soon be green again.
Flowers would spring up as they had done for Bridget's bridal
home-coming. If the rain had fallen a few months sooner the station
might have been saved.

And even now, with the remnant of three or four hundred cattle,
provided there were no crippling debt, no spectre of the Man in
Possession, he might still hang on, and in time retrieve his losses,
lie low, sink artesian wells, make the station secure for the future.

He had been so fond of the place. He had taken up the run with such
high hopes; had so slaved to increase his herd, to make improvements on
the head-station. He had looked upon this as the nucleus of his
fortune; the pivot on which his career as one of the Empire-builders
would revolve.... And now....

Well, some clever speculator no doubt would buy it at a low price
during the Slump, stock it with more cattle, work it up during a good
season or two, and, when cattle stations boomed once more, sell it at
an immense profit. That was what he himself would have done had he been
a speculator in similar conditions. Even still, he could do it with a
small amount of capital to supply a sop for the Bank.... Now that the
Drought had broken they would be more likely to let him go on.... He
thought of the 3,000 pounds Sir Luke Tallant had made him put into
settlement on his marriage. He had not wanted to do that at the time;
his Scotch caution had revolted against the tying up of his resources,
and his instinct was justified. If only he had command of that money
now! It was his own; his wife was rich; that was the one benefit he
could have tak