do. Heathcote was a pig-headed ass, who possibly regarded him as an
incendiary simply because he had bought some land. This boy of
Heathcote's, whose services had been offered to him, had not scrupled
to tell him to his face that he was to be regarded as an enemy. Much
as he liked the company of Kate Daly, he could not go to the house of
that stupid, arrogant, pig-headed young squatter. "I'm not such a bad
bushman but what I can find my way to the river," he said.

"Find it blindful," said Jacko, who did not relish the idea of going
back to Medlicot's Mill as guide to another man. There was a weakness
in the idea that such aid could be necessary, which was revolting to
Jacko's sense of bush independence.

They were standing on their horses at the entrance to the wool-shed
as they discussed the point, when suddenly Harry himself appeared out
of the building. He came up and shook hands with Medlicot, with
sufficient courtesy, but hardly with cordiality, and then asked his
wife as to her ride. "We have been very jolly, haven't we, Kate? Of
course it has been hot, but every thing is not so frightfully parched
as it was before the rain. As Mr. Medlicot has come back so far with
us, we want him to come on and dine."

"Pray do, Mr. Medlicot," said Harry. But again the tone of his voice
was not sufficiently hearty to satisfy the man who was invited.

"Thanks, no: I think I'll hardly do that.--Good-night, Mrs.
Heathcote; good-night. Miss Daly;" and the two ladies immediately
perceived that his voice, which had hitherto been pleasant in their
ears, had ceased to be cordial.