he water. The bag came up, heavy and dripping--so
heavy, indeed, that it proved the last straw for Billy's balance, and,
after a wild struggle to remain on the log, he was forced to step off
with great decision into the water, a movement accompanied with a
decisive "Bust!" amidst wild mirth on the part of the boys. Luckily, the
water was not knee deep, and the black retainer regained the log, not
much the worse, except in temper.

"Damp in there, Billy?" queried Wally, with a grave face.

"Plenty!" growled Billy, marching off the log with offended dignity and
a dripping leg.

The Hermit had taken Norah's saddle and placed it on Bobs, girthing it
up with the quick movements of a practised hand. Norah watched him
keenly, and satisfaction crept into her eyes, as, the job done, the old
man stroked the pony's glossy neck, and Bobs, scenting a friend, put his
nose into his hand.

"He likes you," Norah said; "he doesn't do that to everyone. Do you like
horses?"

"Better than men," said the Hermit. "You've a good pony, Miss Norah."

"Yes, he's a beauty," the little girl said. "I've had him since he was a
foal."

"He'll carry you home well. Fifteen miles, is it?"

"About that, I think."

"And we'll find Dad hanging over the home paddock gate, wondering where
we are," said Jim, coming up, leading his pony. "We'll have to say
good-night, sir."

"Good-night, and good-bye," said the Hermit, holding out his hand. "I'm
sorry you've all got to go. Perhaps some other holidays--?"

"We'll come out," nodded Jim. He shook hands warmly. "And if ever you
find your way in as far as our place--"

"I'm afraid not," said the Hermit hastily. "As I was explaining to Miss
Norah, I'm a solitary animal. But I hope to see you all again."

The boys said "good-bye" and mounted. The Hermit held Bobs while Norah
swung herself up--the pony was impatient to be gone.

"Good-bye," he said.

Norah looked at him pitifully.

"I won't say good-bye," she said. "I'm coming back--some day. So
it's--'so long!'"

"So long," the old man echoed, rather drearily, holding her hand. Then
something queer came into his eyes, for suddenly Norah bent from the
saddle and kissed his cheek.

He stood long, watching the ponies and the little young figures
scurrying across the plain. When they vanished he turned wearily and,
with slow steps, went back into the scrub.

* * * * *

They forded the creek carefully, for the water was high, and it was dark
in