“I believe Murty would have fought him,” Norah said, indignantly.
“It’s not unlikely,” her father answered. “Murty’s a loyal old soul. According to Harvey, they are all worms, and I am a callous tyrant, and Jim’s a whelp!”
“Oh, am I?” said that gentleman, with interest, looking out. “What have I done to the noble Harvey?”
“Well, you’ve existed. I can’t quite gather that you’ve done anything else, and I fancy Harvey would have mentioned it if you had. At times he seemed hard up for things to mention. Still, on the whole, he was very eloquent. I’ve known politicians tarred with the same brush; the less they have to say, the more fluent they become! Judging by present indications,” said Mr. Linton, “Harvey will develop into a Prime Minister, and probably afflict me with a special land tax. And all because I asked him why he’d left the slip-rails down.”
“Well, I’m glad you’ve sent him away, Dad,” Norah said. “I always thought he had a horrid face.”
“Oh, he’s a miserable type,” her father answered—“the kind of man that never ought to come to the country. He’s absolutely useless, and I don’t think he ever did a day’s work in his life—if he did, it wasn’t on Billabong. We’ve put him at various kinds of work, and found him worthless at each; his one idea was to ‘knock off,’ and he shone at that. And, as you say, he’s a low-looking brute, and I shall be glad to have him off the place. But I don’t like sacking a man.”
“Don’t know why we ever put him on,” said Jim, through the window.
“Well, he said he hadn’t a penny, and wanted work. One doesn’t like to send a man away without giving him a chance. But I’m sorry I kept Harvey. However, he’s off, or he will be shortly, so we needn’t bother our heads about him. The bullocks are likely to need all our energies. Jean, can I rely on your assistance?”
Jean nodded vigorously. It was clear that the prospect afforded her undiluted joy.
“That’s right. And Wally?” Wally grinned, disdaining further answer.