Power laughed. "You're an amusing idiot, King." But the old man snorted.
"I've something else to even up with besides that trumpet. Every man jack on the place is doing what he likes with the water tanks these last two months. They're three part done. There'll be a drought here 'fore the rains come, sure as I sit here, there will. I believe half the women wash their brats in it. They've got the devil's impidence. I watched Wells to-day carry half-a-dozen kerosene tins for Mrs. Simpson and Mrs. Boulder. I'd have seen he knew about it, if I'd been nearer. I'll fix the lot of 'em up yet. I'll settle them quick."
"You'll have to ration them," Power said.
"Ration them! I'll ration them till their tongues hang out. They can go to the pub for a drink."
A chair creaked in the dark, grunts followed the creak, and Neville got to his feet. He steadied himself with his stick, and started towards the door into the house. On the threshold he paused and looked round.
"Ye know Gregory, the gouger from Mount Milton way? He was in at the store this afternoon. Says he's struck a first class copper show on the river. He was blowing hard about it there, and had specimens with him. He was after gettin' a lot of tucker on account; but I settled that. I may be wrong, huh, huh! but I reckon he wasn't long from the pub."
"Where's his show?" King asked.
"On Pelican Pool. He'll get drowned when the rains come."
"He can have only just struck it. Nobody was on the hole a fortnight back," Power answered.