having had their necessary slumbers disturbed.

At this moment the debate was interrupted by the appearance of a man
outside the veranda. "Well, Mr. Jerry, how goes it?" asked the
stranger. "What, Bos, is that you? What brings you up to Boolabong? I
thought you was ringing trees for that young scut at Gangoil? I'll be
even with him some of these days! He had the impudence to send a man
of his up here last week looking for sheep-skins."

"He wasn't that soft, Mr. Jerry, was he? Well, I've dropped working
for him.--How are you, Mr. Brownbie? I hope I see you finely, Sir.
It's stiffish sort of weather, Mr. Brownbie, ain't it, Sir?"

The old man grunted out some reply, and then asked Boscobel what he
wanted.

"I'll just hang about for the day, Mr. Brownbie, and get a little
grub. You never begrudged a working-man that yet."

Old Brownbie again grunted, but said no word of welcome. That,
however, was to be taken for granted, without much expression of
opinion.

"No, Mr. Jerry," continued Boscobel, "I've done with that fellow."

"And so has Nokes done with him."

"Nokes is at work on Medlicot's Mill. That sugar business wouldn't
suit me."