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Mates at Billabong by Mary Grant Bruce
page 61 of 260 (23%)

"Catch!" Jim said, tossing a big box into Norah's hands.

"Chocolates!" said Norah blissfully. "Jim, you're an angel!"

"Always knew that," her brother replied, dropping his load on the
platform with a cheerful disregard of what might break. "Come on,
Wally, we'll get the heavy things out of the van. You watch those, Nor.
Who's in, by the way? And where's Dad?"

"Dad's in Cunjee; but he had business, and he couldn't wait at the
station, the train was so late. Cecil's with him--they're both riding.
I've got the light buggy with the ponies for you, and Billy's driving
the express for your luggage and heaps of things that Brownie wants for
the house." Norah spoke in one breath and finished with a gasp.

"Guess people must have thought you were a circus procession!" was
Jim's comment. "All right, we'll cart the things out to Billy."

Out at the bid express-wagon drawn by a pair of greys, Billy stood,
welcoming them with a smile on his dusky countenance that Wally likened
to a slit in a coconut. The luggage was piled in with special
injunctions to the black boy not to put the bags of flour on anything
that looked delicate--whereat Billy's smile widened to a grin, and he
murmured "Plenty!" delightedly.

"That's the lot," Jim said. "The buggy's at the hotel, I suppose,
Norah?"

"Yes--and we're to have lunch there with Dad. And you've got to be
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