Let the jumpt-up selection go! It's making a wall-eyed bullock of me, Mary --
a dry-rotted rag of a wall-eyed bullock like Jimmy Nowlett's old Strawberry.
And you'll live in town like a lady."

"Somebody coming!" yelled the boys.

There was a clatter of sliprails hurriedly thrown down,
and clipped by horses' hoofs.

"Insoide there! Is that you, Johnny?"

"Yes!" ("I knew they'd come for you," said Mrs. Mears to Johnny.)

"You'll have to come, Johnny. There's no get out of it.
Here's Jim Mason with me, and we've got orders to stun you and pack you
if you show fight. The blessed fiddler from Mudgee didn't turn up.
Dave Regan burst his concertina, and they're in a fix."

"But I can't leave the missus."

"That's all right. We've got the school missus's mare and side-saddle.
She says you ought to be jolly well ashamed of yourself, Johnny Mears,
for not bringing your wife on New Year's Night. And so you ought!"

Johnny did not look shame-faced, for reasons unknown to them.

"The boys couldn't find the horses," put in Mrs. Mears.
"Johnny was just going down the gully again."

He gave her a grateful look, and felt a strange, new thrill of admiration