e pigs," she said. "He just loves them;
and he says he can see them growing."

There was a hint of Spring in the air, and more than a hint of good
grass in the green paddocks stretching away from the house. By the creek
the willows were putting out long, tender shoots that would soon be a
thick curtain. The lucerne patch that stretched along its bank was dense
and high. The Rainhams had been delayed in taking possession of Creek
Cottage; a severe cold had smitten Tommy just at the end of her labours
in the hospital, and, being thoroughly tired out, it had been some time
before she could shake off its effects. Mr. Linton and Norah had put
down their feet with joint firmness, declaring that in no circumstances
should she begin housekeeping until she was thoroughly fit; so the
Rainhams had remained at Billabong. Tommy was petted and nursed in a
way she had not known since Aunt Margaret had died, while Bob worked
feverishly at his farm, riding over every day from Billabong, with a
package of Brownie's sandwiches in his pocket, and returning at
dusk, dirty and happy. Bob was responding to Australian conditions
delightfully, and was only discontented because he could not make his
farm all that he wanted it to be within the first week.

Therein, however, he had unexpected help. The Cunjee district was a
friendly one; station owners and farmers alike looked kindly on
the young immigrant who turned so readily to work after four years'
fighting. Moreover, Tommy's work in the hospital was well known; the
general opinion being that "anything might be expected from young
Norah Linton, but you wouldn't think a bit of a new-chum kid like Bob
Rainham's sister would turn to and cook for a crowd, and she hardly off
the ship!" So the district laid its heads together and consulted Mr.
Linton; with the result that one morning Bob found himself unexpectedly
accompanied to work by his host. It was nothing unusual for Jim or
Wally, or both, to go with him. He was cutting a drain, which they
declared to be a job for which they had a particular fancy. But to-day
he found Monarch saddled with the other horses, and Mr. Linton, not only
ready to start, but hurrying them off; and there was no lunch to carry,
Norah airily declaring that since she and Tommy were to be deserted
they declined to be downtrodden, and would motor over with a hamper and
picnic at Creek Cottage. There was a mysterious twinkle in Norah's eye;
Bob scented something afoot, and