d by a small and shapeless body, the legs of which were much
too long and extremely thin, as were the arms also; but the wrists and
hands, strained to hold the restive horses, were hard, corded, and hairy,
suggesting a gorilla-like vitality in the curious man. Done let himself
down to the roadway again. One could not fight with so miserable a
cripple.

'You drive like a madman, mister,' he said in a milder tone.

'Maybe yer off the ship just now?' said the ape like driver, quite
ignoring Done's grievance and his words. 'So bein', you can tell we if
there's a Mistress Macdougal aboard her.'

The man kept his eyes on his horses; his heels were firmly set on the
footboard. It. needed all the strength of his iron wrists to restrain the
beasts--tall, lean bays, with a certain piratical rakishness about them,
long-maned and long-tailed, effective weapons against the voracious flies
that swarmed over their rumps. Their powerful frames showed through
clean, healthy hides, and their blood in the proud carriage of their
heads and their hot impatience under restraint. A half-caste aboriginal
boy, dressed apparently in his master's old clothes--and the master's own
clothes were none too new--sprawled on the bottom of the vehicle, and
grinned at Done in a friendly way over the tailboard. Jim resented the
cripple's contempt for his wrongs, and ignored the question put to him.
He was taking up his belongings again, when Mrs. Macdougal herself
fluttered by.

'Why, Mack!' she cried.

The driver's eyes left his horses' ears for a moment, and rested on the
lady. They displayed no particular feeling.

'Hello, missus!' he said casually, adding, after a pause: 'Best jump up.
Nags a bit fresh.'

Jim walked on. So this was Donald Macdougal, J.P., of Boobyalla. The
young man's annoyance fell from him. He thought of the devoted husband's
greeting after their long parting, and laughed aloud. Macdougal of
Boobyalla was no demonstrative lover. A few minutes later the waggon
dashed past Done; the bays were being driven at a gallop, and the vehicle
fairly jumped on the broken road. The young man caught a glimpse of Lucy
clinging desperately to her seat, and then waggon and horses were buried
in a dust-cloud of their own making, which was whirled away at a terrific
pace, and spun out of his view round a distant corner.

Done plodded along with his bag upon his shoulder. He had no definite
plan of action. He thought now of looking about him fo