“Yes, thank goodness—and we can hurry.”
It was already evening as they made their way along the rough path—rough as it was, it felt smooth and grateful to their aching feet. Robin led the way, keeping well ahead, so that the lash of the held-back branches should not sweep Barry’s face. They did not speak until at length they came out of the timber and saw, ahead, the cleared hills and valleys that meant home. Then Barry caught up.
“What should we do first, Robin?”
“We must scatter,” Robin said. “You go over to the Merritts’, Barry—you know the way. They will pass the word round among the farms in the hills on that side of the creek; it will be best for the men to meet there, for it’s the place nearest to the Falls track. They are sure to start as soon as it is light in the morning.”
“All right. Will you go home?”
“Yes; I’ll get Mother and Mrs. Lane to drive down to Merri Creek at once: Mrs. Lane can telephone for the things your father wants while Mother is telling the people there. Then I’ll cross our creek and get over to O’Rourke’s.”
“It’s nearly dark,” Barry said, looking anxiously at the sky. “Will there be time to get enough people?”
Robin laughed.
“The whole district will know before morning,” she said. “All the men about here know what it will mean to get two stretchers down the Falls track.”
“Where will I go after I’ve told the Merritts?”