ney due to Bob when he died. Now I'll have
to go and see her when we get to Solong; there's no getting out of it,
I'll have to face her--and you'll have to come with me.'

'Damned if I will!' I said.

'But you'll have to,' said Andy. 'You'll have to stick to me; you're
surely not crawler enough to desert a mate in a case like this? I'll
have to lie like hell--I'll have to lie as I never lied to a woman
before; and you'll have to back me and corroborate every lie.'

I'd never seen Andy show so much emotion.

'There's plenty of time to fix up a good yarn,' said Andy. He said no
more about Mrs Baker, and we only mentioned the Boss's name casually,
until we were within about a day's ride of Solong; then Andy told me the
yarn he'd made up about the Boss's death.

'And I want you to listen, Jack,' he said, 'and remember every word--and
if you can fix up a better yarn you can tell me afterwards. Now it
was like this: the Boss wasn't too well when he crossed the border. He
complained of pains in his back and head and a stinging pain in the back
of his neck, and he had dysentery bad,--but that doesn't matter; it's
lucky I ain't supposed to tell a woman all the symptoms. The Boss stuck
to the job as long as he could, but we managed the cattle and made it as
easy as we could for him. He'd just take it easy, and ride on from camp
to camp, and rest. One night I rode to a town off the route (or you did,
if you like) and got some medicine for him; that made him better for a
while, but at last, a day or two this side of Mulgatown, he had to give
up. A squatter there drove him into town in his buggy and put him up
at the best hotel. The publican knew the Boss and did all he could for
him--put him in the best room and wired for another doctor. We wired for
Ned as soon as we saw how bad the Boss was, and Ned rode night and day
and got there three days before the Boss died. The Boss was a bit off
his head some of the time with the fever, but was calm and quiet towards
the end and died easy. He talked a lot about his wife and children, and
told us to tell the wife not to fret but to cheer up for the children's
sake. How does that sound?'

I'd been thinking while I listened, and an idea struck me.

'Why not let her know the truth?' I asked. 'She's sure to hear of
it sooner or later; and if she knew he was only a selfish, drunken
blackguard she might get over it all the sooner.'

'You don't know women, Jack,' said Andy quietly. 'And,