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On the Track by Henry Lawson
page 41 of 160 (25%)
if you don't look out!"

"JIMMINY FROTH! -- It was ME all the time!"

"What?"

"It was me that was with her all them nights. It was me that you seen.
WHY, I POPPED ON THE WOODHEAP!"

Dave was taken too suddenly to whistle this time.

"And you went for her just now?"

"Yes!" yelled Andy.

"Well -- you've done it!"

"Yes," said Andy, hopelessly; "I've done it!"

Dave whistled now -- a very long, low whistle. "Well, you're a bloomin' goat,
Andy, after this. But this thing'll have to be fixed up!"
and he cantered away. Poor Andy was too badly knocked to notice
the abruptness of Dave's departure, or to see that he turned
through the sliprails on to the track that led to Porter's.

. . . . .

Half an hour later Andy appeared at Porter's back door, with an expression
on his face as though the funeral was to start in ten minutes.
In a tone befitting such an occasion, he wanted to see Lizzie.
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