‘Now, Neuchamp,’ commenced Mr. Parklands, only partially arresting the process of deglutition, ‘we must come to a decision about the muster. I am bound by the terms of my agreement with old Father Frankston—rather a downy old bird, in spite of his jolly ways and out-and-out dinners—to get in all the herd and count them over to you. I would rather not do it, I confess; not because I’m afraid of my numbers, but it takes time. I have to be in Melbourne in ten days, in Adelaide in three weeks. Besides, it knocks the cattle about. Doesn’t it, Aymer?’
‘Of course it does,’ assented that gentleman; ‘but it has an element of safety about it, as far as the purchaser is concerned.’
‘No doubt of that; but in cases where the books have been so regularly kept for years, as Brigalow’s here, any man can see that he must get his numbers if he takes them by the book total, with a decent percentage knocked off for deaths, etc., for fear of accidents.’
‘It occurs to me,’ interposed Mr. Neuchamp, remembering Windsor’s advice, ‘that as I have actually no experience in taking over a herd like this, if Mr. Brandon would kindly act for me in the whole matter, I should be happy to leave the delivery in his and your hands, feeling sure that he could arrange it with you, in my interest, better than I could myself.’
‘I could have no objection, of course,’ said Parklands. ‘I think it a very good idea on your part; and though Aymer is my oldest friend, yet I fancy no one would accuse him of not doing you justice in such a case as this. I don’t think they’d tell him so, at any rate.’
‘What a lazy beggar you are in small things, Sparks,’ said Aymer. ‘Why don’t you muster the cattle, and have done with it? And why am I to be exalted into the position of your head stockman, and expected to back you up in all kinds of audacious fabrications in which I have no personal interest?’
‘Who is lazy now?’ sneered Parklands. ‘Why can’t you oblige Neuchamp and me also; it may be for the last time, for I shall never return from Melbourne alive, if the girls are half as pretty as they used to be. Besides, I give you full power to fix the percentage, inspect the books, knock off the price—anything you like, in fact. As a seller of unparalleled generosity, we can’t be licked.’
‘I shall feel really grateful, Mr. Brandon,’ said Ernest, ‘if you will consent to be my arbitrator and friend in the business.’
‘Well,’ said Brandon, stretching his vast frame and rising slowly from the breakfast-table, ‘if both parties combine against me there is nothing but capitulation for it. I surrender. So we may go to work forthwith. There are the books for ten years back—certainly very neatly and regularly kept. Branded, so many; missing, so many; dead, so many; sold, so many. It strikes me, however, that 1 per cent additional might be added to the death-rate.’
‘All right, old boy, knock it off,’ exclaimed Parklands.