the fighting kangaroo in London in fog time. He had a black eye and
eighteen pence. He'd been taking down some of the mugs.

"Well, what's to be done now?" I asked. "Stiffner can smash us both with
one hand, and if we don't pay up he'll pound our swags and cripple us.
He's just the man to do it. He loves a fight even more than he hates
being had."

"There's only one thing to be done, Jim," says Bill, in a tired,
disinterested tone that made me mad.

"Well, what's than" I said.

"Smoke!"

"Smoke be damned," I snarled, losing my temper.

"You know dashed well that our swags are in the bar, and we can't smoke
without them.

"Well, then," says Bill, "I'll toss you to see who's to face the
landlord."

"Well, I'll be blessed!" I says. "I'll see you further first. You have
got a front. You mugged that stuff away, and you'll have to get us out
of the mess."

It made him wild to be called a mug, and we swore and growled at each
other for a while; but we daren't speak loud enough to have a fight, so
at last I agreed to toss up for it, and I lost.

Bill started to give me some of his points, but I shut him up quick.

"You've had your turn, and made a mess of it," I said. "For God's sake
give me a show. Now, I'll go into the bar and ask for the swags, and
carry them out on to the veranda, and then go back to settle up. You
keep him talking all the time. You dump the two swags together, and
smoke like sheol. That's all you've got to do."

I went into the bar, got the swags front the missus, carried them out on
to the veranda, and then went back.

Stiffner came in.

"Good morning!"

"Good morning, sir," says Stiffner.

"It'll be a nice day, I think?"

"Yes, I think so. I suppose you are going on?"

"Yes, we'll have to make a move to-day."

Then I hooked carelessly on to the counter with one elbow, and looked
dreamy-like out across the clearing, and presently I gave a sort of sigh
and said: "Ah, well! I think I'll have a beer."

"Right you are! Where's your mate?"

"Oh, he's round at the back. He'll be round directly; but he ain't
drinking this morning."

Stiffner laughed that nasty empty laugh of his. He thought Bill was
whipping the cat.

"What's yours, boss?" I said.

"Thankee!... Here's luck!"

"Here's luck!"

The country was pretty open round there--the nearest timber was better
than a mile away, and I wanted to give Bill a good start across the flat
before the go-as-you-can commenced; so I ta