xtort
no marked encouragement, in spite of every familiarity and witticism at
his command.

Turning his back on the Israelite, Scarlett gave all his attention to
the packer. "The track's clear to the field," said Jack, "all but four
miles at the further end. In a few days, you'll be able to take your
horses through easily."

"My rate is L15 per ton," said the man.

"The Syndicate won't quarrel with that." Jack's head turned
involuntarily, as an unusual sound occurred in the bar-room.

Zahn, leaning over the counter, had caught Gentle Annie roughly by the
wrist. There was a struggle, the crash of falling glass, and a scream.

From the fair arm of the bar-maid blood was flowing.

In a moment, Scarlett was in the bar-room. He seized the spruce
bank-clerk by the collar, and dragged him into the passage.

Zahn kicked and swore; but, setting his teeth, Scarlett pulled his
struggling victim towards the front-door; and there, with a suddenness
which would have done credit to a field-gun, he kicked the Jew into the
street.

The trajectory was low, but Zahn, with legs and arms extended, shot
across the asphalt pavement, and fell sprawling at the feet of a dainty
figure dressed in muslins and ribbons of rainbow hue.

It was Rachel Varnhagen, tripping home to her tea. With a little scream
of elegant surprise, she dropped her parasol, and gazed at the prostrate
form of her jilted lover.

Gathering himself up stiffly, Isaac stood, whimpering, before her; his
whining interspersed with unprintable invective.

Scarlett, however, heedless of the anathemas of the stricken clerk,
stepped from the door of The Lucky Digger, picked up the fallen parasol,
and handed it politely to Rachel.

In less than a moment she recognised him.

"Oh, thanks," she said. "It's really awfully good of you."

"What? To kick this unmitigated blackguard?"

"I've no doubt he deserved it," she said, glancing with disgust at the
clerk. "It's charming of you to pick up my sunshade. I hope you're
coming up to see us--Papa wants to see you awfully. It would be lovely
if you would come to-night."

"Thank you. I'll try. I hope you are none the worse for the fright you
got."

"Thanks, I'm not dead. What a terrible man you are--I wouldn't like to
quarrel with you. Say eight o'clock."

"Very good, eight."

"Don't forget. I shall expect you."

Zahn, who heard all the conversation, ground his teeth, and slunk away.
Rachel smiled her farewell and bowe