"How are you?" he called out to them, as he reined in his horse by the row of posts, but made no move to alight. "I'll be round in the morning with a pack-horse for some stores and tools we want," he added, addressing Marmot, who had not moved from the tobacco-box by the door. The indifference displayed towards him was irritating.
"Well, aren't you coming in?" Marmot said after a moment's silence.
"No; I'm just riding over first to see—to see how Godson's been all the time," Tony replied, as he pulled his horse's head round towards the road.
"Godson? Why, here—Tony, hold on," Marmot called out, as he jumped up and, stepping off the verandah, caught hold of a stirrup-leather just as Tony was moving his horse forward.
All the other men had also risen, and were standing staring at Tony in a manner that was as unintelligible to him as their previous indifference.
"Get off and come in," Marmot was saying. "We ain't quite clear on things, it seems to me. Where have you come from?"
Tony jerked his head towards the west.
"Away down the creek—I can't say nearer," he answered.
"Not from the Flat?"
"No; I'm going on there later. I——"