He ceased, for he could speak no longer, and Brooker, the rough American mate, with a soft, kindly light in his usually stern eyes, took up the tale.

'And then, yew see, Mr. Wallis, we had nothing to do but to keep away for Australia. So I went into the small boat, and for about ten days we kept together; then one night it came on to blow mighty hard from the south'ard, and when daylight came the captain's boat was not in sight, and I hed nothin' else to do but keep right on. And now here we are all together again, and thet little Nita sleepin' as sound and happy as if there was no sich things as misery and death in the world.' Then he added savagely, 'I should just like to come across that galoot of a skipper who was the cause of it all. Why, mister, instead of our being where we thought we were, we were just running dead in for Middleton Reef. I guess he had a narrow shave himself, but, anyway, I hope to see the feller piled up somewhere before I quit sea-goin'.'

Then the two men rose and retired to their rooms, leaving the squatter and his son to pace to and fro on the verandah and watch for daylight and Tom.

And then when daylight came, and the sea mist lifted from the long, long line of curving beach, and Foster, glass in hand, joined his master to scan the yellow sand, and they saw naught to break its outlines but the whitening bones of a great fin-back whale, cast ashore a year before, the master of Kooringa Run turned to the old sailor with trouble in his eyes.

'Foster, I fear something has gone wrong with the lad. Even if he had lost his horse, he should have turned up by now. He is too smart a boy to have let the fire head him off into the ranges. And yet where else can he be? Anyway, there is no time to lose. Jack, you and Wellington must saddle up at once, cross the river high up, and work down from the range till you come to the edge of the burnt country, then follow that right along to Kooringa Cape. I'll take Combo and Fly, and go along the beach between the bar and Misty Head. Most likely I'll meet him footing it home. But hurry, lad, hurry.'

Before noon that day Jack and Wellington were searching the country at the foot of the ranges, and Mr. Wallis and his party were examining the beaches beyond Misty Cape.

But never a trace of Tom could be found, though his horse came home next day. The heavy rain-squalls had obliterated any tracks made on the beach itself: and so when, after a week's steady search, in which all the surrounding settlers joined Tom's shirt and trousers were found lying buried in the sand, by the action of the sea, the heart-broken father bent his head in silence, and rode slowly home.

And that night, as he and Jack sat with hands clasped together, looking out upon the wide expanse of the starlit ocean, and thinking of the face they would never see, and the voice they would never hear again, they heard poor Kate Gorman, who had just laid her little charge to sleep, step out into the darkened garden, and, crouching on the ground, wail out the sorrow her faithful heart could no longer suppress.

Oh, Tom, Tom! the babby that was your mother's own darlin' an' mine, an' mine, an' mine!'

Old Foster came softly over to her. 'Hush, Kate, hush! The master will hear you; don't make it harder for him than it is.'