Adventure Magazine Cover — page 126: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

116 ought to believe everything Mitcham said. Still, if Burdette approved of such uncouth creatures The port was good, so he stayed two full days, and at dinner the last night retold in detail all his troubles and difficulties with the aborigines of the Towanda reservation. “They are so unreasonable,” he pro- tested. ‘‘Not content with their pleasant surroundings at Towanda they want to be free to roam all over Australia, as one might almost say. Ha! Ha! The old people show so little tact! They excite the young men with fantastic tales of kangaroo-chases and wars and what-not. It’s very trying, but the work does progress, I am glad to say. “There is an element of unrest—a some- thing—a feeling—I don’t know—some- times I wonder— “Tyo I need help from outside to curb their more elementary passions?’ “But always I tell myself: “Noo, [ do not need help. I shall reason with them!’ “Nevertheless, outbreaks have occurred, not at Towanda to be sure, but——’”’ And as he listened, an idea crept into Burdette’s brain. It made him quickly lower his eyes that Jukes might not read his thoughts. It solved everything, brought success within measurable distance, if With a quick shrug and a grunt he dis- missed the idea. It was contemptible, vile, debasing. “Here, Jukes, more port!”’ “Noo, thanks, Aie have had quaite enough. Thank you so much all the same. As I was saying: I have to be very firm at tames. They are so strange! One thinks one has them well in hand and then a trifle upsets them. Puts one back yeahs. If they were not so credulous!”’ Back crept the idea into John Burdette’s mind, creeping and writhing there like some unclean thing. He fought it: It grew, slavering, it poisoned him, tainted him— and then it ceased to be loathsome. It whispered excuses, made itself desirable. Burdette’s doubts vanished. He looked Jukes full in the eyes again. “Come on, old man, just one more. You won’t get port like this when you go back to Towanda.”’ “No, quite true. Well, just one small § “Help yourself. Now, about this school of yours—how much do you need?” Adventure Jukes left the next day with a bilious headache and a check for fifty pounds. “God,” as he told Burdette from the top of his cob, ‘‘loveth a cheerful giver.”’ “Thank you for enlisting my services,” answered Burdette, “‘I’ll take the matter up with Melbourne and in the mean time I'll send you enough material in a day or so to make a rough start.”’ Then he called in Mitcham. They were closeted together in the study for over two hours. The owner of Credion was still in a generous mood, for Mitcham left the room with one hundred pounds in crisp notes tucked in his money belt. He swaggered out of the house buoyed up by the knowl- edge that if certain events took place he was to receive an additional four hundred jolly old quidiets. Burdette, apparently, was throwing money about in a most extraordinary fashion. Before nightfall the rumor spread that Mitcham was leaving Credion. Leaning against the cook-house door, his thumbs in the arm-holes of his vest, he substantiated the rumor. “Where going, Tad?” inquired the cook. “Oh, I need a change. I'll wander down to the Big Smoke and go on to Sydney for a spell. Don’t fancy being foreman here——”’ “‘Who’re you kidding?”’ “Not hanybody! I ’ad the offer, but no. Me and old John, well—you know ’im and is ways. We're parting friendly and he’s sorry to lose me.”’ “You don’t say!” “Yes, sir, I do. We buried the ’atchet. Why, seeing as ’ow all ’ands is tied up with the new draft of pig-meaters needing brand- ing, the old man asked me to take a load of stuff across to the mission at Towanda on my way out. Now, would he ask me that if all wasn’t rosy between us? ’Course not.” “What kind of stuff are you taking?” “Oh, bit of corrugated iron, cement, match boarding.”’ “Gonna bring back the cart?” “No. Jukes is to keep it as a present.”’ “‘The old man’s daft about Jukes and his blackboys!”’ “Seems that way. He’d make a fair sin- chaser ’imself if ’e weren’t so gone on cows. Good lad, old John!” So Mitcham trundied off forty-eight hours later with a cart-load of building materials and his own horse hitched to the tail-board. No anxious thoughts caused cCoOnicloool< o(CO)