o leave,
muttering miserably to himself, hurrying back into the bush. The search
went on.

There was no riding in the afternoon; they were in country where the
tangle of dogwood and undergrowth was so thick that to take a horse
through it meant only lost time, and hindered the thoroughness of the
quest. Norah fought her way through, keeping her line just as the men
kept theirs; her white coat stained and torn now, her riding skirt
showing a hundred rents, her boots cut through in many places. She did
not know it; there was only room in her heart for one thought. When,
while waiting for lunch, she had heard Dave Boone say something in an
angry undertone about Bobs, she had wondered dully for a moment what he
meant. She had forgotten even Bobs.

The hours went by, and the sun drooped towards evening. In the dark
heart of the scrub the gloom came early, making each shadow a place of
mystery that gave false hope to the searchers a hundred times.
Gradually it was too dark to look any more; for that day also they must
give it up--the third since Monarch had broken free from his master and
left him lying somewhere in the green fastness about them. There
scarcely seemed a yard of it left unsearched. Despair was written on
most of the faces as the men came one by one to their horses and rode
home, picking up on their way those who were still beating the bush as
far as the Billabong boundary.

Jim and Norah were the last to leave. They came back to the horses
together, Tait at their heels, his head and tail down. Norah was
stumbling blindly as she walked, and Jim's arm was round her. He put
her up, and turned silently to unfasten his own bridle.

"Jim," she said, and stopped. "Jim, do you think we'll find him in--in
time?"

Jim hesitated, trying to bring himself to say what he dared no longer
think. Then he gave way suddenly.

"No," he said, hoarsely, "I don't; I don't believe we ever will!" He
put his head down on the saddle and sobbed terribly--dry, hard sobs that
came from the bottom of his big heart. And Norah had no word of
comfort. She sat still on Sirdar, staring in front of her.

Presently Jim stood up and climbed into the saddle, and the impatient
horses moved off quickly towards home, Tait jogging at their heels.
Once Jim turned towards his sister, saying, "Are you quite knocked up,
old girl?" Norah only shook her head--she did not know that she was
tired. Neither spoke again.

It was perhaps a mile further o