Murty O'Toole had come out of the men's quarters, and was gazing open-mouthed at the unfamiliar figure on Bobs—"the city feller," for once not apparelled in exaggerated riding clothes, but in loose flannels; already the legs of the trousers had worked up from his low shoes, disclosing a vision of brilliant sock. Cecil took no notice.
"Hallo, there! Shtop a minnit! Who put y' on Bobs?"
"Mind your own business," said Cecil, between his teeth, looking round.
"My business, is it? Sure, 'tis my business, if 'tis anny man's on Billabong! Did Miss Norah say y' could ride her pony?"
"What's that to you?"
"Be gob!" said Murty, "'tis more to me than it is to you, seein' 'tis meself knows Miss Norah's feelin's an' disposition about Bobs! Did she give y' leave? Tell me, or I'll pull y' off, if y' was the Boss' nevvy ten times over!"
"WILL you?" Cecil spat the words at him bitterly. He shook the reins, and Bobs, impatient enough already, broke into a canter that carried him away from the good friend who had intervened on his behalf. They shot across the paddock.
Murty, left helpless, said a few strong things as he looked after the retreating pair.
"It's a guinea to a gooseberry he's taken Frinch lave wid him," he said, "bitther tongued little whipper-snapper that he is! Sure if Bobs gets rid av him it'll serve him sorry, so 'twill. But phwat'll I do about it, at all?" He scratched his head reflectively. "If I go over 'twill only worry Miss Norah to hear—an' it's most likely he'll have enough av it pretty soon, an' the pony'll come home—an I do not care if he comes home widout him! I'll lave it be f'r awhile." He went slowly over to the stockyards.
Cecil, cantering over the grass with Bobs' perfect stride beneath him, was, for the moment, completely satisfied with himself. He had routed the enemy in the first engagement, and, if he had not left him speechless, at least he had had the last word. Murty and he had been at daggers drawn from the very first day, when the grinning Irishman had pulled him out of the wild raspberry clump in the cutting-out paddock; and the cheerful friendliness with which Jim and Norah treated the stockman had always irritated him. He was exceedingly pleased that on this occasion he had scored at his expense.