“Yes, I have,” said the young man, with an air of decision. “You can judge of its value. All the Windāhgil sheep, with the exception of a couple of flocks of studs, start for our Queensland country in January. The dry belt likely to be affected by the coming drought is a narrow one not more than two hundred miles wide, and as the sheep are fairly strong now, though they won’t remain so, they should cross that with trifling loss. Donald Greenhaugh, a first-class man, has agreed to go in charge. Sheep are sheep over there now for stocking up new country, and we can sell to advantage what we do not want for Windāhgil Downs. The larger the number sent in one overland journey like this, the smaller the expense of droving per head. I propose that Wantabalree should be cleared in the same way. Willoughby can go in charge of his own sheep, and we can share the expense.”
“I see nothing to prevent your idea from being carried out,” said Mr. Hope. “I am aware that sheep of good quality, as the Wantabalree sheep proverbially are, are scarce, and saleable at high rates, in the new country. The main thing will be to have a first-class road overseer.”
“Greenhaugh has been out with an exploring party over all that country,” said Hubert; “and as a head drover is worth his weight in gold. A sober, steady fellow, too, and a good hand with men. No better bushman anywhere.”
“I’m ready to start next week,” said Willoughby, with the fire of ardent youth in his kindling eye. “I never expected to have such a chance. But—” and here his face became grave and thoughtful—“what do you say, father? Will you and Rosalind be able to get on without me?”
“We must try, my boy. The time will pass heavily, I doubt not; but,” and here he walked over to Hubert, and put his hand on his firm shoulder, “your father did not grudge you in the path of honourable ambition, nor can I be more selfish. God bless you both, my boys! and bring you safe back once more to gladden our hearts. It seems to me as if Providence had decided this issue, and that I have little hand in it.”
“I wish now to understand, Colonel Dacre,” said Hope; “if, upon their arrival in Queensland, you will place 20,000 sheep in our hands for sale—at such prices as may be then ruling—and whether by the terms of your mortgage to Mr. Dealerson—who has of course, taken care to tie you up as tightly as he could—you have the power of disposing of so many.”
“It so happens that I have permission to reduce the stock—I believe that’s the expression—by just such a number,” said the Colonel more cheerfully; “and I most willingly invest you with the power of disposing of them.”
“Then I will take upon myself to state that the Austral Agency Company will guarantee to take up your bill next coming due, and to provide you with funds to carry you over the next shearing, when we may perhaps make a more complete and satisfactory arrangement.”
The Colonel gazed at Mr. Hope with an expression as of one not fully realising the effect of the words he heard with his outward ears. Then suddenly stepping forward, he stretched out his hand, and taking that of the younger man wrung it silently.
He retreated to his chair, where he sat down with an expression of relief too deep for words. He then left, apparently, all further transactions of the interview in the hands of the “coming race.”