The gaunt, sun-baked teamster departed to turn out his bullocks, and generally recreate after his journey, deferring till the morrow the pleasant process of receiving his cheque for carriage and safe delivery of his valuable load—over five hundred pounds' worth of merino wool.
But Mr. Calthorpe, the banker, who, without listening to the whole conversation, had caught Bill's name occasionally, touched Donahue's arm (for that perfunctory agriculturist it was) as he turned reluctantly homeward, and questioned him concerning his late acquaintance's words.
Nothing loath, indeed gratified with the chance of placating the local potentate who wielded the power of life and death (financially) over him and others, he cheerfully disclosed all that he had heard, being, moreover, a good-natured, obliging sort of fellow, as indeed thriftless persons often are.
'Now, look here, Donahue!' said the great man. 'I've a liking for Hardwick, whom I've always found a steady and industrious chap, that it's a pleasure to help. Some men are not built that way, Dick'—here he looked Donahue squarely in the face. 'They idle their time, and spend the money drinking and horse-racing that ought to go to paying their debts and keeping the wife and children.' Mr. Donahue looked embarrassed, and gazed into the distance. 'But I want your help to take this business out of winding, and if you'll work with me, I might—I don't say I will, mind you—recommend the Bank to give you time to pay off the arrears on your selection.'
Dick Donahue, whose cheerful demeanour covered an aching heart and remorseful feelings whenever he thought of the possibility of the family losing their home because of his want of steady industry, turned round, almost with the tears in his eyes, as he said, not without a touch of natural dignity—
'Mr. Calthorpe, I'd do what I could for Bill, who's a better man than myself, with all the veins of my heart—as poor old father used to say—and ask no return in the world; and for Jenny Hardwick, who's been a good head to Biddy and the children (more shame for me that they wanted help), I'd risk my life any day. And if you think well of givin' me more time to pay up, I've got a fencing contract from Mr. Dickson, after the New Year, and I'll never touch a drop till it's finished, and give you an order on him for the lot.'
'All right, Dick, we can arrange that; you work like a man and do your duty to your family, and you'll find a friend in me.' He held out his hand, which the repentant prodigal shook fervently, and turned away without another word.
Nothing more was said on that day, but in the following week Richard Donahue, fairly well turned out, and riding a horse 'fit to go for a man's life,' as he expressed it, started 'down river,' leaving Mrs. Bridget in a state of mind very different from that with which she ordinarily regarded her husband's absence from home 'on business,' always uncertain as to return and rarely satisfactory as to remuneration.
CHAPTER VII
The inland town of Wagga Wagga, in New South Wales, historically celebrated as the dwelling-place of the Tichborne Claimant, where that lapsed scion of the aristocracy followed the indispensable but not socially eminent occupation of butcher, was, if not en fête, pardonably excited at the arrival of the Judge and officers of the Assize Court to be holden on the morrow.