Page 165 - A Little Bush Maid

position in her mind, since the talk of the Winfield murder had begun to die
away. The troopers, unsuccessful in their quest, had gone back to

headquarters, and Norah had breathed more freely, knowing that her friend
had escaped--this time. Still, she never felt comfortable in her mind about

him. Never before had she kept any secret from her father, and the fact of
this concealment was apt to come home closely to her at times and cloud
the perfect friendship between them.

"Master Billy will be delighted, T expect," went on Mr. Linton, not noticing

the little girl’s silence. "Anything out of the ordinary groove of civilisation
is a joy to that primitive young man. T don’t fancy it would take much to
make a cheerful savage of Billy."

"Can’t you fancy him!" said Norah, making an effort to break away from

her own thoughts; "roaming the bush with a boomerang and a waddy, and
dressed in strips of white paint."

"Striped indeed!" said her father, laughing. "T’ve no doubt he’d enjoy it. T
hope his ancient instincts won’t revive--he’s the best hand with horses we

ever had on the station. Now, Norah, come and talk to Brownie."

Mrs. Brown, on being consulted, saw no difficulties in the way. A day, she

declared, was all she wanted to prepare sufficient food for the party for a
week--let alone for only three days.

"Not as T’ll stint you to three days," remarked the prudent Brownie. "Last
time it was to be three days--an’ ’twas more like six when we saw you

again. Once you two gets away--" and she wagged a stern forefinger at her
employer. "And there’s that black himp--he eats enough for five!"

"You forget the fish we’re going to live on," laughed Mr. Linton.

"’M," said Brownie solemnly. "First catch your fish!"

"Why, of course, we mean to, you horrid old thing!" cried Norah, laughing;
"and bring you home loads, too--not that you deserve it for doubting us!"