, and a delight in persecuting slow
cars by driving just in front of them and letting them come up and enjoy
his dust, and then shooting away again, he was a respectable member of
society. When his boss was in the car he cloaked the natural ferocity of
his instincts; but this day, with only myself on board, and a clear run
of a hundred and twenty miles up to the station before him, he let her
loose, confident that if any trouble occurred I would be held morally
responsible.

As we flew past a somnolent bush pub, Alfred, whistling softly, leant
forward and turned on a little more oil.

"You never heard about Henery and the elephant?" he said. "It was dead
funny. Henery was a bushwacker, but clean mad on motorin'. He was wood
and water joey at some squatter's place until he seen a motor-car go
past one day, the first that ever they had in the districk.

"'That's my game,' says Henery; 'no more wood and water joey for me.'

"So he comes to town and gets a job off Miles that had that garage at
the back of Allison's. An old cove that they called John Bull--I don't
know his right name, he was a fat old cove--he used to come there to
hire cars, and Henery used to drive him. And this old John Bull he
had lots of stuff, so at last he reckons he's going to get a car for
himself, and he promises Henery a job to drive it. A queer cove this
Henery was--half mad, I think, but the best hand with a car ever I see."

While he had been talking we topped a hill, and opened up a new stretch
of blue-grey granite-like road. Down at the foot of the hill was a
teamster's waggon in camp; the horses in their harness munching at their
nose-bags, while the teamster and a mate were boiling a billy a little
off to the side of the road. There was a turn in the road just below
the waggon which looked a bit sharp, so of course Alfred bore down on it
like a whirlwind. The big stupid team-horses huddled together and pushed
each other awkwardly as we passed. A dog that had been sleeping in
the shade of the waggon sprang out right in front of the car, and was
exterminated without ever knowing what struck him.

There was just room to clear the tail of the waggon and negotiate the
turn. Alfred, with the calm decision of a Napoleon, swung round the bend
to find that the teamster's hack, fast asleep, was tied to the tail of
the waggon. Nothing but a lightning-like twist of the steering-wheel
prevented our scooping the old animal up, and taking him on boar