equently and at
disreputable hours of the night in O'Briar's tent, we got uneasy about
it. And when the constable who was on night duty gave us a friendly
hint, Mitchell and I agreed that something must be done.

"Av coorse, men will be men," said the constable, as he turned his
horse's head, "but I thought I'd mention it. O'Briar is a dacent man,
and he's one of yer mates. Av coorse. There's a bad lot in that camp in
the scrub over yander, and--av coorse. Good-day to ye, byes."

. . . . .

Next night we heard the voice in O'Briar's tent again, and decided to
speak to Alf in a friendly way about it in the morning. We listened
outside in the dark, but could not distinguish the words, though I
thought I recognised the voice.

"It's the hussy from the camp over there; she's got holt of that fool,
and she'll clean him out before she's done," I said. "We're Alf's mates,
any way it goes, and we ought to put a stop to it."

"What hussy?" asked Mitchell; "there's three or four there."

"The one with her hair all over her head," I answered.

"Where else should it be?" asked Mitchell. "But I'll just have a peep
and see who it is. There's no harm in that."

He crept up to the tent and cautiously moved the flap. Alf's candle was
alight; he lay on his back in his bunk with his arms under his head,
calmly smoking. We withdrew.

"They must have heard us," said Mitchell; "and she's slipped out under
the tent at the back, and through the fence into the scrub."

Mitchell's respect for Alf increased visibly.

But we began to hear ominous whispers from the young married couples,
and next Saturday night, which was pay-night, we decided to see it
through. We did not care to speak to Alf until we were sure. He stayed
in camp, as he often did, on Saturday evening, while the others went
up town. Mitchell and I returned earlier than usual, and leaned on the
fence at the back of Alf's tent.

We were scarcely there when we were startled by a "rat-tat-tat" as of
someone knocking at a door. Then an old woman's voice INSIDE the tent
asked: "Who's there?"

"It's me," said Alf's voice from the front, "Mr. O'Briar from Perth."

"Mary, go and open the door!" said the old woman. (Mitchell nudged me to
keep quiet.)

"Come in, Mr. O'Breer," said the old woman. "Come in. How do you do?
When did you get back?"

"Only last night," said Alf.

"Look at that now! Bless us all! And how did you like the country at
all?"

"I didn'