t they had
"told him so" before he set out on the trip with gully-raking
dead-beats.

"How are you?" he called out to them, as he reined in his horse by the
row of posts, but made no move to alight. "I'll be round in the morning
with a pack-horse for some stores and tools we want," he added,
addressing Marmot, who had not moved from the tobacco-box by the door.
The indifference displayed towards him was irritating.

"Well, aren't you coming in?" Marmot said after a moment's silence.

"No; I'm just riding over first to see--to see how Godson's been all the
time," Tony replied, as he pulled his horse's head round towards the
road.

"Godson? Why, here--Tony, hold on," Marmot called out, as he jumped up
and, stepping off the verandah, caught hold of a stirrup-leather just as
Tony was moving his horse forward.

All the other men had also risen, and were standing staring at Tony in a
manner that was as unintelligible to him as their previous indifference.

"Get off and come in," Marmot was saying. "We ain't quite clear on
things, it seems to me. Where have you come from?"

Tony jerked his head towards the west.

"Away down the creek--I can't say nearer," he answered.

"Not from the Flat?"

"No; I'm going on there later. I----"

"Here, you come inside," Marmot said quickly. "You come inside, and hold
yourself together."

"Why, what's wrong?"

"Come up here, lad; there's news for you to hear," some one called from
the verandah; and Tony, undecided and uneasy, got out of the saddle and
walked on to the verandah where the men were still standing.

Marmot waved him to the tobacco-box.

"Godson's dead," he said.

"_And_ buried," Smart added, with pardonable pride, for he was the local
undertaker as well as saw-miller.

Tony, sitting on the tobacco-box, gazed at them open-mouthed.

"It was sudden--it's curled Cold-blood Slaughter clean up," Cullen put
in as further explanation.

"And Yaller-head--she's gone to Barellan," another man, wishing to have
some share in the proceedings, put in.

It was the last remark which brought Tony to his feet.

"Sit down, lad; sit down," Marmot explained. "We had to break it gently
lest it scared you. Sit down and have a smoke. We're all with you."

CHAPTER IX.

CHORDS AND DISCORDS.

On the verandah of Barellan Mrs. Dickson was sitting, with the eyes that
saw not staring away into the blue distance, with the soft, warm breeze
blowing gently on to her face, and