rst and
only contributed half a crown. But then it was a case of a man being
taken from the shed by the police for wife desertion.

"It's always that way," commented Mitchell. "Those soft, good-hearted
fellows always end by getting hard and selfish. The world makes 'em so.
It's the thought of the soft fools they've been that finds out sooner or
later and makes 'em repent. Like as not the Giraffe will be the meanest
man out back before he's done."

When Big Billabong cut out, and we got back to Bourke with our dusty
swags and dirty cheques, I spoke to Tom Hall:

"Look here, Tom," I said. "That long fool, the Giraffe, has been
breaking his heart for a little girl in Bendigo ever since he's been out
back, and she's been breaking her heart for him, and the ass didn't know
it till he got a letter from her just before Big Billabong started. He's
going to-morrow morning."

That evening Tom stole the Giraffe's hat. "I s'pose it'll turn up in
the mornin'," said the Giraffe. "I don't mind a lark," he added, "but
it does seem a bit red hot for the chaps to collar a cove's hat and a
feller goin' away for good, p'r'aps, in the mornin'."

Mitchell started the thing going with a quid.

"It's worth it," he said, "to get rid of him. We'll have some peace now.
There won't be so many accidents or women in trouble when the Giraffe
and his blessed hat are gone. Any way, he's an eyesore in the town, and
he's getting on my nerves for one.... Come on, you sinners! Chuck 'em
in; we're only taking quids and half-quids."

About daylight next morning Tom Hall slipped into the Giraffe's room at
the Carriers' Arms. The Giraffe was sleeping peacefully. Tom put the
hat on a chair by his side. The collection had been a record one,
and, besides the packet of money in the crown of the hat, there was a
silver-mounted pipe with case--the best that could be bought in Bourke,
a gold brooch, and several trifles--besides an ugly valentine of a long
man in his shirt walking the room with a twin on each arm.

Tom was about to shake the Giraffe by the shoulder, when he noticed
a great foot, with about half a yard of big-boned ankle and shank,
sticking out at the bottom of the bed. The temptation was too great. Tom
took up the hair-brush, and, with the back of it, he gave a smart rap on
the point of an in-growing toe-nail, and slithered.

We heard the Giraffe swearing good-naturedly for a while, and then there
was a pregnant silence. He was staring at th