respectfully, in the darkness, "She's here, Mrs Carey,
she's all right," the two were discovered sitting on a convenient log
of the wood-heap, with an awkward and overacted interval of log between
them.

Old Carey liked Harry Dale, and seemed very well satisfied with the way
things appeared to be going. He pressed Harry to stay at the selection
overnight. "The missus will make you a shake-down on the floor," he
said. Harry had no appointments, and stayed cheerfully, and old Carey,
having had a whisky or two, insisted on Mary making the shake-down, and
the old folks winked at each other behind the young folks' backs to see
how poor little Mary spread a spare mattress, with redhot, averted face,
and found an extra pillow and a spare pair of ironed sheets for the
shake-down.

At sunrise she stole out to milk the cows, which was her regular duty;
there was no other way out from her room than through the dining-room,
where Harry lay on his back, with his arms folded, resting peacefully.
He seemed sound asleep and safe for a good two hours, so she ventured.
As she passed out she paused a moment looking down on him with all the
lovelight in her eyes, and, obeying a sudden impulse, she stooped softly
and touched his forehead with her lips, then she slipped out. Harry
stretched, opened his eyes, winked solemnly at the ceiling, and then,
after a decent interval, he got up, dressed, and went out to help her to
milk.

Harry Dale and Jim Carey were going out to take charge of a mob of
bullocks going north-west, away up in Queensland. And as they had lost
a day and night to be at the dance, they decided to start in the cool of
the evening and travel all night. Mary walked from the homestead to
the Lower Sliprails between her brother, who rode--because he was her
brother--and led a packhorse on the other side, and Harry, who walked
and led his horse--because he was her sweetheart, avowed only since last
night.

There were thunderstorms about, and Mary had repented sufficiently with
regard to Bertha Buckolt to wear on her shoulders a cape which Bertha
had left behind her last night.

When they reached the Lower Sliprails Jim said he'd go on and that Harry
needn't hurry: he stooped over his horse's neck, kissed his sister,
promised to keep away from the drink, not to touch a card, and to leave
off fighting, and rode on. And when he rounded the Spur he saw a tall,
graceful figure slipping through the trees from the creek towards