When Billjim wasn't engaged making her pocket-money, as she termed it, her days would be spent with Jack L'Estrange.
Jack was a fine, strapping young fellow of twenty-three, and was doing as well on the Newanga as any. Since the day he had snatched Billjim (then a wee mite) from the jaws of an alligator, as Queensland folk will insist upon calling their crocodile, he had been l'ami de la maison at the Bensons', and Billjim thought there was no one in the world like him. He in return would do any mortal thing which that rather capricious young lady desired.
One evening, when they were all sitting chatting round the fire in the galley, Benson said:
"Don't you think, Jack, that Billjim ought to go to some decent school? The missus and me of course ain't no scholars, but now that we can afford it we'd like Billjim to learn proper, you know."
Jack looked at Billjim, who had nestled up closer to him during this speech, and was on the point of answering in the negative, when less selfish thoughts entered his head, and he replied:
"Well, Dick, much against my inclination, I must say that I think she ought to go. You see," he continued, turning to Billjim and taking her hand, "it's this way. We should all miss you, lass, very much, but it's for your own good. You must know more than we here can teach you if you wish to be any good to your father and mother."
Billjim nodded and looked at him, and Jack had to turn his eyes away and speak to Mrs. Benson for fear of going back on his words.
"You see, Mrs. Benson," said Jack, "it wouldn't be for long, for Billjim would learn very quickly with good teachers, and be of great use to you when Dick makes that pile."
Mrs. Benson smiled in spite of herself when Jack mentioned "that pile." Dick had been going to strike it rich up there on the Newanga for over seven years, and the fortune hadn't come yet.
"I suppose you're right," she said, "and I'm sure Billjim will be a good girl and study quick to get back. Won't you, lass?"