“We haven’t got to the beginning of things yet,” he interrupted, following up the line of thought the Măluka had at first suggested. “Before any trees are cut down, we’ll have to dig a saw-pit and find a pit-sawyer.” Dan was not a pessimist; he only liked to dig down to the very root of things, besides objecting to sugar-coated pills as being a hindrance to education.

But the Dandy had joined the group, and being practical, suggested “trying to get hold of little Johnny,” declaring that “he would make things hum in no time.”

Mac happened to know that Johnny was “inside” somewhere on a job, and it was arranged that Dan should go in to the Katherine at once for nails and “things,” and to see if the telegraph people could find out Johnny’s whereabouts down the line, and send him along.

But preparations for a week’s journey take time, outbush, owing to that necessity of beginning at the beginning of things. Fresh horses were mustered, a mob of bullocks rounded up for a killer, swags and pack-bags packed; and just as all was in readiness for the start, the Quiet Stockman came in, bringing a small mob of colts with him.

“I’m leaving,” he announced in the Quarters; then, feeling some explanation was necessary, added, “I was thinking of it before this happened.” Strictly speaking, this may be true, although he omitted to say that he had abandoned the idea for some little time.

No one was surprised, and no one thought of asking what had happened, for Jack had always steered clear of women, as he termed it. Not that he feared or disliked them, but because he considered that they had nothing in common with men. “They’re such terrors for asking questions,” he said once, when pressed for an opinion, adding as an afterthought, “They never seem to learn much either,” in his own quiet way, summing up the average woman’s conversation with a shy bushman: a long string of purposeless questions, followed by inane remarks on the answers.

“I’m leaving!” Jack had said, and later met the Măluka unshaken in his resolve. There was that in the Măluka, however, that Jack had not calculated on—a something that drew all men to him, and made Dan speak of him in after-years as the “best boss ever I struck”; and although the interview only lasted a few minutes, and the Măluka spoke only of the work of the station, yet in those few minutes the Quiet Stockman changed his mind, and the notice was never given.

“I’m staying on,” was all he said on returning to the Quarters; and quick decisions being unusual with Jack, every one felt interested.

“Going to give her a chance?” Dan asked with a grin, and Jack looked uncomfortable.

“I’ve only seen the boss,” he said.