Yacka wished them to gallop on and leave him, but this they declined to do, saying he had done so much for them, it was only making a small return to remain with him.
As they neared the homestead they noticed several figures moving about, evidently in an excited way, on the veranda.
‘There’s Ben Brody!’ said Edgar eagerly. ‘He has recognised us. What a time we shall have to-night!’
Ben Brody was standing leaning against the door-post when he saw something moving across the plain in front of him. He went inside for his glasses, and, after looking through them for several minutes, he gave a loud shout.
It was such an unusual thing for Ben Brody to shout, except when issuing orders, or expressing his feelings to some unfortunate new-chum, that the hands about the place fancied the homestead must have caught fire. Several of them rushed round to the front, and found Ben Brody executing a kind of war-dance on the veranda.
‘What’s up now?’ asked Will Henton. ‘Something stinging you?’
‘No, you fool,’ roared Brody. ‘Do you think I’m as tender as you? It’s them lads coming back!’
‘Not Foster and Brown?’ asked Will.
‘That’s just it, you bet,’ said Brody.
Off ran Will Henton, and in a few moments Harry Noke, Jim Lee, and two or three more came round.