Slaughter said nothing, and Dickson, with an uneasy laugh, looked round at Barber.
"Of course if the girl comes out, why, we're off," Tap observed.
"What girl?" Slaughter exclaimed quickly.
"Why, the girl Birralong's talking about—the girl—well, you ought to know," Dickson said.
"I suppose you think you're going to cut the youngster out as well with the other one, and play up with her," Barber added.
Slaughter, standing by the doorway, looked round from one to the other slowly.
"You'd best talk plain, I take it," he said. "You'll say straight what you've got to say, or some one will shift out of this camp. What's your yarn, anyhow?" he added, facing to Dickson.
"That's all right," he answered, grinning uneasily, and shifting his feet as he made as though to get nearer the door. "It's only borak. It's a yarn, that's all."
"A yarn put about while you were away—the boy's only chaffing you," Tap put in.
Slaughter stood by the doorway, looking from one to the other.