CHAPTER XI
JERRY, JOURNALIST
In a small house, in a side street, on Moore Park, the woman who came to Sydney with Glen Leigh, and the other two, had rooms. It had been decided to call her Clara Benny, as it was necessary she should have a name, and to install her here. Mrs. Dell, who kept the house, was a widow, a respectable woman in reduced circumstances, and she had promised to do what she could for her lodger. Clara could not understand it. She wanted the three to be with her. They had always been together. Why should they leave her alone? It was useless to try and explain, and no attempt was made. Glen said it was necessary because they had to work, and it would be better for her to have a kind motherly woman to look after her; this made her more contented, and one of them called to see her every day. Mrs. Dell was puzzled over her lodger; she fancied she suffered from some brain trouble, but she liked her from the first, and quickly came to love her; she looked upon her as a substitute for her own girl, who had died of consumption at about the same age. Clara repaid this affection, and in a very short time they became inseparable. The money she received for her board and lodging was a great help to Mrs. Dell, and Glen Leigh was always supplying some delicacy for the table.
Bill Bigs succeeded in finding a small hotel to his liking in Castlereagh Street. The seller came into some money, and sailing for England, was glad to find a buyer at a reasonable price. The house was in bad condition, but Bill, with his usual energy, quickly set to work, and in a few weeks it was spick and span, clean and inviting. There was a steady trade, and a fair number of customers frequented the place—many theatrical, sporting and pressmen, with whom he became popular.
Jerry Makeshift, of "The Sketch," found good copy in Bill. Jerry was one of the most popular men in Sydney, a wonderfully clever black and white artist, a born joker, and an excellent writer of highly sensational news, in paragraphs, or columns, as required. He had one failing, not an unusual one in these days. He was fond of his glass and hilarious company, and as he always had a lot of admirers following in his wake he soon brought genial customers to "The Kangaroo," as Bill curiously named the place. Jerry Makeshift extracted from Bill much interesting press matter about Boonara, and the district surrounding it; also about the keepers of the fence.
The clever journalist was astounded at what he heard, especially about the men on the rabbit-proof fence. In a hazy sort of way he had heard of them before, but when Bill began to talk about them, with intimate knowledge, Jerry opened his eyes.
"I'll introduce you to two of 'em," said Bill. "They are staying with me. In fact they came to Sydney with me from the forsaken place. They found the life too much for 'em, and you bet it must be awful when such men as they throw it up."
"I'd like to meet them," replied Jerry. "How is it I have not done so before?"
"Well, it's this way. They're busy. They've got a scheme in hand that I suggested, and I think it's just the thing for 'em and will pay well," and he explained about the buckjumping exhibition.
"By Jove, that's a capital idea," said Jerry, who saw the possibilities at once.