"Hush-sh-sh!" said the publican.

The pilgrim scowled and retired to the rear. You can't express
your feelings freely when there's a woman dying close handy.

"Well, who says rum and milk?" asked the joker, in a low voice.

"Wait here," said the publican, and disappeared into the little front passage.

Presently a light showed through a window, with a scratched and fly-bitten
B and A on two panes, and a mutilated R on the third, which was broken.
A door opened, and we sneaked into the bar. It was like
having drinks after hours where the police are strict and independent.

When we came out the driver was scratching his head and looking at the harness
on the verandah floor.

"You fellows 'll have ter put in the time for an hour or so.
The horses is out back somewheres," and he indicated the interior of Australia
with a side jerk of his head, "and the boy ain't back with 'em yet."

"But dash it all," said the Pilgrim, "me and my mate ----"

"Hush!" said the publican.

"How long are the horses likely to be?" we asked the driver.

"Dunno," he grunted. "Might be three or four hours. It's all accordin'."