not at all
bad-looking or evil-looking and with an air of strong determination; in
short, what one calls a masterful man. He was dressed well but quietly. A
gold-bound hair watch guard that crossed his high-buttoned waistcoat was
his only adornment; his slender hands, unlike the fat man's podgy
fingers, were bare of rings. He was sitting alone, and after the fat man
left him returned again to the reading of an afternoon paper while he
lunched.

"His name's Strong," said. Nellie, turning to Ned with a peculiar smile.
"That fat man has robbed me and this lean man has robbed you, I suppose.
As he looks more like a man it won't be as bad though, will it?"

"What are you getting at, Nellie?" asked Ned, not understanding but
looking at the shrewd man intently, nevertheless.

"Don't you know the name? Of course you don't though. Well, he's managing
director of the Great Southern Mortgage Agency, a big concern that owns
hundreds and hundreds of stations. At least, the squatters own the
stations and the Agency owns the squatters, and he as good as owns the
Agency. You're pretty sure to have worked for him many a time without
knowing it, Ned."

Ned's eyes flashed. Nellie had to kick his foot under the table for fear
he would say or do something that would attract the attention of the
unsuspecting lean man.

"Don't be foolish, Ned," urged Nellie, in a whisper. "What's the good of
spluttering?"

"Why, it was one of their stations on the Wilkes Downs that started
cutting wages two years ago. Whenever a manager is particularly mean he
always puts it down to the Agency. The Victorian fellows say it was this
same concern that first cut wages down their way. And the New Zealanders
too. I'd just like to perform on him for about five minutes."

Ned uttered his wish so seriously that Nellie laughed out loud, at which
Ned laughed too.

"So he's the man who does all the mischief, is he?" remarked Ned, again
glaring at his industrial enemy. "Who'd think it to look at him? He
doesn't look a bad sort, does he?"

"He looks a determined man, I think," said Nellie. "Mr. Stratton says
he's the shrewdest capitalist in Australia and that he'll give the unions
a big fight for it one of these days. He says he has a terrible hatred of
unionism and thinks that there's no half-way between smashing them up and
letting them smash the employers up. His company pays 25 per cent.
regularly every year on its shares and will pay 50 before he gets thr