“The less I say the better perhaps, Scottie,” he said slowly. “Then if you’re asked questions you can’t answer them, and you can’t be blamed for not—er—persuading me to stay. Do you understand, Scottie? I want some tucker, and a waterbag and billy, and a fresh horse, and I’m just going for a little bit of a canter by myself. And I want to start without wasting any time, Scottie, though I’d like ten words with Miss Ess if I might.”
“That’s enough, laddie,” said Scottie. “Leave that saddle on, and I’ll go’n run the rest o’ the horses up. Go to Ess and tell her what you think fit, an’ ask her to make ye a cup o’ tea and put some tucker up for ye. Are ye like to be gone long? No, never min’ that, never min’,” he said hastily.
He turned and hurried back to the house as Ess walked to the door.
“My stockwhip, quick, lass,” he said. “Here’s Steve comin’ tae tak tea wi’ ye—in the quickest kind o’ hurry. Ask me naething”—and as he came out again with the whip, “hark this, lass—ask him naething—d’ye understan’—naething.”
He hurried off, and Steve walked slowly to the verandah steps. “Good morning,” he said. “May I....”
“Come in,” she said brightly. “I have my orders. Tea—in a hurry, and you’re to sit down and rest a minute while I get it.”
He walked in and sat down, while she bustled about to spread a cloth and put food on the table. Steve sat back in his chair and watched her, and the strained look on his face relaxed a shade.
When she had poured the water on the tea and put the pot on the table, Steve sat up. “Thank you,” he said. “And now while I eat you might—your uncle said I was to ask you if you’d please put me up some food.”
“Yes,” she said, “if you’ll tell me just what you want——”
“A few handfuls of tea, a loaf, any meat you have—a piece of corned beef or a chunk of bacon.”