Page 190 - A Little Bush Maid

FTGHTTNG DEATH

"You!" Mr. Linton said.

He had put Norah gently into the rough chair, and turned to Dick

Stephenson, who was standing by his father, his lips twitching. They
gripped hands silently.

"You can recognise him?"

"T’d know him anywhere," the son said. "Poor old dad! You think--?"

"T don’t know," the other said hastily. "Can’t tell until Anderson comes. But

T fancy it’s typhoid. You brought the things? Ah!" His eyes brightened as
they fell on the leather medicine-case Mrs. Brown had sent, and in a

moment he was unstrapping it with quick, nervous fingers..

The Hermit stirred, and gasped for water. He drank readily enough from the

glass Mr. Linton held to his lips, while his son supported him with strong
young arms. There was not much they could do.

"Anderson should be here before long," Mr. Linton said. "What time did
Billy leave?"

"A little after twelve."

"What did he ride?"

"A big black."

"That’s right," Mr. Linton nodded. "Anderson would motor out to
Billabong, T expect, and Mrs. Brown would have the fresh horses ready.
They should not be very long, with ordinary luck. Billy left about twelve,

did he? By Jove, Norah must have made great time! Tt was after half-past