"Whatcher givin' us, Jess?"
"It will also come in handy," continued the saucy girl, turning on Tom, "to record the girth, length, and throat capacity of the monster snake that you, Tom, are sure to see when roaming alone in the scrub."
"That's one for your nob, Tom!"
"Your turn next, Sandy," retorted that youth.
"Then there's the 'old-man' kangaroo that me brither Sandy will shoot at, missing by 'just an hair's-breadth,' of course, and which he will declare—when he returns to camp—to be as 'high as one of those extinct mammals that Simpson has in his natural history book'; at any rate as 'big as Bullocky Bill's off side poler.'"
"But, Miss Jessie, how wud th' bhoys put th' measure on th'——?"
"As for Dennis Kineavy," continued the sprite, "he will be sure to run into a group of mermaa-des, when diving in the deep blue sa-ay, who will be discussing the all-important question of waist measurement. As Denny's an expert in fairies and hobgoblins, he will be appointed judge and referee."
So, amid laughter and banter, and final good-byes, the gay party start for the Bay.
Neville was prevented from joining them through important business interests in Sydney. The "call" of the bush, however, was strong and insistent, and, as he bade farewell, he announced his determination of returning at no long date to settle as a landholder.
The road to the Bay passed within a short distance of the caves, and, despite the news of the tragic end of Ben Bolt, the lads, as they jogged past the neighbourhood, were unable to rid themselves of a feeling that the outlaw still lurked about his old haunt, and felt relieved when they had left this region behind them.