we didn't like to throw a chance away. We didn't
want the old man to laugh at us, and we didn't want to do any more time
in Berrima--not now, anyhow. We'd been living too gay and free a life to
begin with the jug all over again.

So we thought we'd make one job of it, and get right through, if we had
to sleep for a week after it. It would be slow enough, but anything was
better than what we'd gone through lately.

After we'd got down the mountain and on the flat land of the valley
it rested our feet a bit, that was pretty nigh cut to pieces with the
rocks. Our horses were that done we dursn't ride 'em for hours before.
As we came close, out walks old Crib, and smells at us. He knew us in
a minute, and jumped up and began to try and lick Jim's hand: the old
story. He just gave one sort of sniff at me, as much as to say, 'Oh!
it's you, is it?' Then he actually gave a kind of half-bark. I don't
believe he'd barked for years, such a queer noise it was. Anyhow, it
woke up dad, and he came out pretty sharp with a revolver in his hand.
As soon as he saw the old dog walking alongside of us he knew it was
right, and begins to feel for his pipe. First thing father always did as
soon as any work or fighting or talking was over was to get out his pipe
and light it. He didn't seem the same man without it.

'So you've found your way back again, have ye?' he says. 'Why, I thought
you was all on your way to Californy by this time. Ain't this Christmas
week? Why, I was expecting to come over to Ameriky myself one of these
days, when all the derry was over---- Why, what's up with the boy?'

Jim was standing by, sayin' nothing, while I was taking off the saddles
and bridles and letting the horses go, when all of a sudden he gives a
lurch forward, and if the old man hadn't laid hold of him in his strong
arms and propped him up he'd have gone down face foremost like a girl in
a dead faint.

'What's up with him, Dick?' says father, rather quick, almost as if he
was fond of him, and had some natural feeling--sometimes I raly think he
had--'been any shooting?'

'Yes; not at him, though. Tell you all about it in the morning. He's
eaten nothing, and we've been travelling best part of twenty-four hours
right off the reel.'

'Hold him up while I fetch out the pannikin. There's plenty of grub
inside. He'll be all right after a sleep.'

A drop of rum and water brought him to, and after that we made ourselves
a cup of tea and turned in. The