"It wasn't what I asked for," Davey said curtly.
None knew better than Farrel what the difficulties of his getting work of any sort would be in the Wirree with McNab's mark against him. In the hills no one would employ him for fear of offending Donald Cameron. But it was neither McNab, nor Donald Cameron, the Schoolmaster was thinking of when he tried to persuade the boy to go home. Not a word moved Davey from his purpose to be independent.
"If you take this mob to-morrow, you will clear out then and look for another job on the other side of the ranges?"
"Yes," Davey said eagerly.
"Right," the Schoolmaster replied, "but I don't want you in this business with Conal, Davey."
The boy gripped his hand.
"You said if ever I was hard-up for a friend," he said, "to come to you. And this job with those beasts of Maitland's is the only thing sticking out for me just now."
Farrel turned away wearily.
"I'd be glad enough to stand by you always, Davey," he said. "But this is different! I'd never forgive myself if I got you into a mess. However, it can't do any harm your taking these beasts to Steve's. Deirdre and I'll be going up in a day or two. I'll tell Conal about it. Then you can go on over the ranges. There's always work on Middleton's or Yaraan. Come in now and I'll make you a cup of tea."
Davey glanced at the lightening dome of the sky.