CHAPTER V The Hut By Pelican Pool
Power picked up his whip by way of company, and took the road to the camp. The journey was done in ten minutes' time. The moon had not risen, and he found the place in darkness, and from somewhere at hand came the sudden bark of the dog. The tents were empty, but the hessian building—a shabby affair—showed lamplight through half-a-dozen holes, and sounds of movement came from inside. The gouger called out roughly to the dog, but the brute barked on at full voice, backing away into the shadows. Power brought his whip-handle down on the door-post. The doorway was empty of a door, and he looked into a room lit by a couple of lanterns. He had time to see a table and seats, knocked together haphazard, and a woman of middle life bending over a basin at the farther end. Then the opening was filled by the gouger, who peered out into the dark.
"Good evening," Power said.
"Same to you," said the gouger. And he added with a wrinkling up of his eyes—"I can't see more than half way through a brick wall in this durned light. Anything up?"
"I'm camping on the Pool to-night. You told me to take a look at your show when I was round. I've come along on the chance. Maybe I've turned up at an off time. In that case it's my own funeral, that's all. Couldn't get away before."
"So that's the lay. You're right enough. I'll fix you in a shake. It's five minutes through the scrub. I can pick yer up a specimen or two what's lying round about the shanty, if the women have let 'em be. But, but"——the gouger began to lose his words and screw his mouth up and finger his beard——. "Strike me," he said. "Strike me if I know you."
The woman had left her work, and now peered over his shoulder. She nudged him. "Yes, yer do, boss," she said in a heavy whisper. "It's Mr. Power, of Kaloona—him as brought yer back last night."
"You aren't getting at me?" said he of the beard in an aside.
"Aw!"
Then Gregory, the gouger, turned very friendly.