“I’m close at home,” said Medlicot.
“I am, at any rate, on my own run,” said Harry.
“You mean to say that I am trespassing?” said the other; “because I can very soon jump back over the fence.”
“I didn’t mean that at all, Mr. Medlicot; any body is welcome on my run, night or day, who knows how to behave himself.”
“I hope I’m included in that list.”
“Just so; of course. Considering the state that every thing is in, and all the damage that a fire would do, I rather wish that people would be a little more careful about smoking.”
“My canes, Mr. Heathcote, would burn quite as quickly as your grass.”
“It is not only the grass. I’ve a hundred miles of fencing on the run which is as dry as tinder, not to talk of the station and the wool-shed.”
“They sha’n’t suffer from my neglect, Mr. Heathcote.”
“You have men about who mayn’t be so careful. The wind, such as it is, is coming right across from your place. If there were light enough, I could show you three or four patches where there has been fire within half a mile of this spot. There was a log burning there for two or three days, not long ago, which was lighted by one of our men.”