CHAPTER II
MELBOURNE VERSUS SYDNEY
Sam Killem, Commanding Officer of the Kangaroo Marines, sat in his Recruiting Office chewing a cigar in the usual Australian style. Now and again he looked at his recruiting figures and smiled. "Five hundred men in three days," he mused. "Not bad for you, Sam; and good stuff at that"—for Sam was a judge of men. He was a squatter and as rich as Croesus. His big, bony frame spoke of strength, while his eye and face told the tale of shrewdness and resource. He was forty, and successful. Three hundred miles of land was chartered as his own. His sheep were counted in thousands, and his brand as familiar as a postage stamp. Yet, in all his struggles for success, Sam had found time to be a patriot. He had served as a Tommy in the African War, and since then had commanded a corps of mounted men in the back of beyond. He was the fairest yet fiercest, the most faithful and fearless man in the force. A man who disobeyed his orders always received a knock-out blow, for Sam boxed like a pro. and hit like a hammer.
"Some more recruits, sir," said his sergeant-major, opening the door.
"Right, Jones; show them in."
The door closed on the now famous quartette—Claud, Bill, Paddy, and Sandy. They were still in their rough bush-whacking clothes, while their eyes told the tale of a merry night before.
"Well, boys—glad to see you."
"We've met before, Sam," said Bill.
"Guess we have, but cut out the 'Sam,' click your heels together, say 'sir,' when you answer, and salute when you meet me. I'm bossing this show. And we can't have sheep-shearing familiarities—understand!"
"Bit sudden like!" smiled Bill, trying to comply.