“Bud,” concluded Petit, “if you do not obey me vis all thinks——”
He threw them from him and drew his knife.
“Oh,” sobbed Tom, “No, don’t! Don’t kill us. I’ll do anythink you want me to. Anythink as long as you don’t stick that knife into me.”
Dave shut his eyes and shuddered. Speech was beyond him.
Chapter XIV.
THE GENESIS OF A LOVE STORY.
George Chard had been transferred from the red desert of Gilgargery to the Rivers. The bank for which he laboured was one of the institutions of the country. Its clients lay chiefly among the Western pastoralists. The bulk of its business was done on mortgages.
When George entered the service of the bank, through the influence of his uncle, Tobias Chard, his prospects had appeared in the colours of the dawn; now they were set in more of a winter-grey perspective.
Tobias Chard was the proprietor of an immense run in the nor’-west. His younger brother, George’s father, having no business instinct, and a depraved taste for water-colour, was a clerk in the Crown Lands Office. He was blessed with a family of five girls and a boy. Tobias, the bachelor, declared that his brother had been improvident in all things.