'Good evening,' he said, in a gruff voice, as I rode up. 'A nice night for travelling—ain't it?'
'A very nice night,' I answered, looking him carefully over, 'and pray who are you waiting for?'
'For a messenger from Whispering Pete,' he answered. 'Is this the horse?'
I informed him that it was, and gave him the reins of The Unknown. He looked at him pretty closely, and then wheeled him round.
'Good night,' he said, 'and good luck to you. I've got a hundred miles to do before sundown.'
'Good night,' I cried in return, and then changing my course, set off across country for the place where I knew I should find the cattle. The sun was in the act of rising from the night fog when I made them out and rode up to the camp. The fire burnt brightly, and the cook was bustling about getting breakfast. Seeing me, Yates, who was not at all a bad sort of fellow, sat up in his blankets and stared, as well he might.
'Well, bless my soul, and how on earth did you get here?' he cried, 'and now you're here, what do you want? Anything wrong?'
'No, of course not; what on earth should make you think so?' I replied. 'Only I happened to be going to Bourke on business, so Pete asked me to come on and take charge. Here's a letter from him to you.'
I took Pete's note out of my pocket and handed it to him. Having torn it open, he read it through slowly. When he had done so he said, 'Well, I'm precious glad. It was against my will that I came at all; now I'm free, and all the responsibility, and in this dry season there's plenty of that, rests upon your shoulders and not on mine. I don't envy you!'