“What sort of things does he do?” begged everybody, eager for a recipe for bravery.
“Well, for one thing, he met three robbers—bushrangers, you know, and murderers they were really—when he was on horseback all alone, and before they had time to whip out their pistols he held them up with his, and made them all walk into the nearest town; ten miles it was, and he knew all the time that his pistol wasn’t loaded.”
“And did they?” inquired the others breathlessly.
“Of course not, or they’d have shot him in a minute; they were a desperate gang!”
“What else did he do?” inquired Stella with interest. “That’s not much use to us, I’m afraid, but let’s hear; it might give us ideas.”
“For one thing he spent a night in a cave that was supposed to be haunted—no one would go near it, even in the daytime, because of the stories there were about—and it was while he was in there he found out that the robbers used it as a hiding-place at night. He listened, and heard them say where they had taken some horses that had been stolen from one of the farms. He headed a band next day, and went after the horses, too, and he got them. They were awfully valuable ones; one of them was worth nearly a hundred pounds!”
“I say, what a lark to know such a man,” broke in Josy. “Who is he? Do tell us.”
“He’s a friend of dad’s,” said Margot simply. “When we were out in the Bush he helped with the farms. He was champion sheep-shearer. I told you about him, didn’t I, Gretta?” And she turned to her cousin.
“Is it Long Jake, that you were talking about in the train?” asked Gretta with interest; “that man who gave you lessons in Australia?”
“‘Long Jake!’” echoed the other listeners. “What a funny name, and how ripping he must be to know!”