"You boys—where are you going when you leave here?" asked Bill suddenly.
Glen did not hesitate.
"Sydney," he answered.
Bill remained silent a few minutes, then said slowly, as though still thinking it out, "Sydney! I've a good mind to go with you, I'm sick of Boonara. It's the last place that was ever put up on this earth."
Glen jumped up from his seat, so did Jim. They took a hand each and almost pulled Bill's arms off.
"Do it!" cried Glen. "Do it! We want you. If the three can't make headway in Sydney we're not the men I fancy we are."
"Yes, come with us," put in Jim heartily.
"Stop, you fellows, stop," said Bill. "It's easier said than done. I'll tell you something. I've had an offer for my shanty, a damned good offer, more than it's worth. I can't think why he's made it, or where he's got the money from. I never knew Craig Bellshaw to give much money away, and I don't see where else it could have come from."
"Craig Bellshaw!" exclaimed Glen in surprise, "has he made a bid for it?"
"Not likely. What'd he want with a place like mine? It's Garry Backham, Bellshaw's overseer. He came into my place and wanted to know if I'd sell out. He said he wanted the place and was tired of Mintaro. I was never more surprised in my life. You could have pushed me over with a blade of grass."