None of the men saw Ess Lincoln that night. She was dead beat, Scottie said, and had turned in after some tea and tucker. Next morning they were all up and away about their work before Ess was up or out, but after supper that evening Scottie brought her over and introduced her to the men.
Steve Knight was not there at the time. He had been over to the head station, and the men were either in their bunks or getting ready for them when he came in. But if he did not see her, at least he heard enough of her.
“’Ullo, Steve,” said Jack Ever, as soon as Steve set foot inside the door. “You’ve missed the ’bus. She was over ’ere to-night, and we was all interdooced.”
“I’ve missed my supper,” said Steve. “And that’s more important at this moment. See if you can hook me out some tucker, Blazes, and about a gallon of tea. I’m dry as the drought itself.”
“Wait till you see ’er,” said Whip Thompson. “You’ll think different. She’s a bonzer; she’s——”
“Let’s get a wash, Whip,” said Steve, picking up a tin pail and making for the door, “and then you can sing a song about it.”
“We’re to start cutting the mulga trees for the sheep to-morrow,” he said when he came back. “I just brought word back to Scottie.”
“Did you go to the ’ouse?” said Jack. “Did you see ’er then?”
“No, Scottie came to the door. He asked me to go in, but I said No, I wanted some supper.”
“You was both ends an’ the middle of a fool then,” said Jack, warmly. “You could ’ave seen ’er.”