"A bright wee muskittie——"
"Confound that pestilential muskittie!" roared Mackay, in high dudgeon, amid the laughter of his companions. "My poetic inspiration will be fair destroyed after hearin' my gem o' beauty abused in such a manner."
But his wrath simmered down speedily as the redoubtable Shadow rode up, travel-stained and weary, his sole upper vestment still further torn and bedraggled, so that it clung to him only in shreds and patches.
"I reckon I has had a daisy time," he said lightly, slipping from the saddle. But the effort of his long journey had told on his numbed limbs, and he staggered and would have fallen had not Mackay's ready grip supported him.
"Come and have something to eat, you young rascal," said the aggrieved composer. "You can tell us your news afterwards."
Jack even now had tea ready for the wayfarer, but the wiry youth refused to be pampered.
"Well, boss," said he, "I'm only a bit stiff, that's all. Everything's all right. I got in ahead o' Macguire by an hour, an' fixed up with the Warden like a streak. I has had a great time——" And he would have begun a narration of his experiences right then, had not Jack insisted on his having his tea while it was warm.
It would be difficult to express the satisfaction that was felt over the Shadow's successful journey, and when the lad had finished his meal, and told of his numerous adventures on the route and in the township, not one among them but felt that the young bushman had proved his worth in no uncertain degree. But it was Mackay's hearty "Well done, my laddie," that seemed to give him greatest pleasure, and he cast about him for some means of showing his gladness.
"I was practisin' your song as I came along," he announced brightly. "It's a rattlin' fine song, it is. I like it best where the muskittie——"
He opened his mouth for a preparatory howl, then, noting the stern glance cast at him by the man he desired to propitiate, he subsided in dismay.