'Come back here and let me know where you put him down,' and Murdoch moved off as the gentleman came up to the carriage.
He watched them drive off, and then took a seat on a baulk of timber till Mike returned.
'He told me to take him to the Crescent City, and it's there I put him down, Mr. Murdoch.'
'All right, Mike; I don't care where he goes so that it isn't to Planter's.' Then he walked away, and after threading several of the worst streets of the town, stopped at a low wine shop. There was no one in but the man behind the bar.
'They tell me that you have sold out, Murdoch, and are going West. Is it true?'
'That is right. I have had enough of this. I am going to try my luck West. Have you got Black Mat with you still?'
'No. You will find him at Luttrell's. You know the place, at the corner of Plantation Street. That is to say, he was there a fortnight ago, if he has not got shot or hung since. Not thinking of taking him with you?'
'No.' Murdoch laughed. 'He is strong enough and would be useful, but he gets so confoundedly sulky if he takes a drop too much. That was why I had to get rid of him. He got into three or four rows, and I had him on my hands each time for over a fortnight, so I thought he had better go.'
'Yes, you told me about it. I found him useful here, especially when I wanted the place cleared; but it would not do, he broke one fellow's shoulder throwing him out, and it was getting me a bad name.'
'Well, good-bye,' Murdoch said. 'I am off by the boat to-morrow. I will look you up if I come back this way, and let you know how I have got on.'