`Oh, nothing,' he said, `only that damned slut of a half-caste cook
overheard some of those blanky fools arguing as to how Romany's knife
got out of the sheath, and she's put a nice yarn round amongst the girls.
There's a regular bobbery, but it's all right now. Jimmy Nowlett's
telling 'em lies at a great rate.'

Presently there was another hush outside, and a saucer
with vinegar and brown paper was handed in.

One of the chaps brought some beer and whisky from the pub,
and we had a quiet little time in my room. Jack wanted to stay all night,
but I reminded him that his little wife was waiting for him in Solong,
so he said he'd be round early in the morning, and went home.

I felt the reaction pretty bad. I didn't feel proud of the affair at all.
I thought it was a low, brutal business all round. Romany was a quiet chap
after all, and the chaps had no right to chyack him. Perhaps he'd had
a hard life, and carried a big swag of trouble that we didn't know
anything about. He seemed a lonely man. I'd gone through enough myself
to teach me not to judge men. I made up my mind to tell him
how I felt about the matter next time we met. Perhaps I made
my usual mistake of bothering about `feelings' in another party
that hadn't any feelings at all -- perhaps I didn't; but it's generally best
to chance it on the kind side in a case like this. Altogether I felt
as if I'd made another fool of myself and been a weak coward.
I drank the rest of the beer and went to sleep.

About daylight I woke and heard Jack's horse on the gravel.
He came round the back of the buggy-shed and up to my door,
and then, suddenly, a girl screamed out. I pulled on