Bob turned a puzzled, half-distressed face to Mr. Linton.
“I say, sir—what is it?”
“It's just that, my boy,” said David Linton. “The district had a fancy to help you—Cunjee thinks a heap of soldiers, you see. So a lot of the fellows got together and planned to put in a day on the creek, doing odd jobs.”
“I say,” said poor Bob flushing scarlet, “I never heard such a thing—and I hardly know any of them. Whatever am I to say to them, sir?”
“I wouldn't say much at all,” said David Linton laughing. “You'll only embarrass them if you do. Just take a hand in any job you like, and carry on—as we're all going to do.”
“There's one man you know, anyhow,” said Jim grinning. He pointed out old Joe Howard, the nearest to them among the ploughmen.
“Heavens!” ejaculated Bob. “You don't mean to tell me old Joe has come of his own accord!”
“Couldn't keep him away,” Jim said. “He remarked that you were a very decent young feller, and he'd taught you how to work, so he might as well lend an 'and. It's like old Joe's cheek, but he'll claim for ever that he made you a worker.”
“Oh, let him,” said Bob. “It doesn't hurt me, and it may amuse him.” His gaze travelled across the busy paddocks. “Well—I'm just staggered,” he said. “The least I can do is to get to work quickly.”
They turned the horses out and scattered; Bob to cutting scrub—it was the job he liked least, so it seemed to him the decent thing to tackle it—Jim to the drain construction, while Wally joined the band of workers in the garden, since he knew Tommy's plans concerning it; and Mr. Linton attacked a fence that needed repairs. In the middle of the morning came the Billabong motor, driven by Norah, with Brownie and a maid in the tonneau with Tommy, and hampers packed wherever possible. A cart with other supplies had been driven over by Evans in the very early morning, since Billabong had undertaken the feeding of the workers for the day. The Rolls-Royce picked its way delicately round the paddocks, while the girls carried drinks and huge slabs of cake to the different bands of workers—this being the time for “smoke-oh.” Then they hurried back to the cottage, where Brownie and Maria were busy unpacking hampers on the verandah, and Brownie was preparing to carve great joints of beef and mutton and pork in readiness for the hungry horde that would descend on them at dinner time.