ew chum, Ives, coming
at a canter through the pines. She cut him off at the barracks, where,
however, he flung himself from the saddle and almost into her arms.

"I beg your pardon, Miss Bethune! Forgotten something as usual, you
see!"

Hurry and worry were behind his smile. Yet Moya had the heart to detain
him.

"Good morning, Mr. Ives. Where's everybody?"

"Gone mustering."

"Not my brother?"

"No; he's gone with the police."

"The police."

"You know, they've gone to follow up some tracks----"

"Oh, yes, I know!" cried Moya.

So Theodore was hand-in-glove with the enemy! Not that the police were
the enemy at all; they were only _his_ enemies; but the fact remained
that Theodore was one of them. Very likely he had already made them a
present of his suspicions; nothing likelier, or more fitting, than the
exposure of her "lover" through her own brother's agency. It will be
seen that her bitterness against one was rapidly embittering Moya's view
of all and sundry. She was not original in that.

"I forgot my water-bag," the jackeroo remarked. "I shall have to gallop
to catch them up."

But he was too polite to move.

"Must you catch them up?" inquired Moya, in flattering dumps: but indeed
it would be deadly at the station all day, and such a day, without a
soul to speak to!

"Well, they won't wait for me, because they told me what to do," said
Ives on reflection.

"And what have you to do?" asked Moya, smiling.

"Go down the fence; it's easiest, you know."

"But what are you all going to do? What does this mustering mean?"

Ives determined in his own mind to blow the odds. He was not only a
gentleman; he was a young man; and Miss Bethune should have all the
information she wanted and he could give. Ives began to appreciate her
attractions, and Rigden's good fortune, for the first time as they
deserved. It would be another place after the marriage. She was a ripper
when you got her to yourself.

Aloud he explained the mustering as though he had the morning to spare.
It meant sweeping up all the sheep in a given paddock, either to count
them out, or to shift them altogether if feed or water was failing where
they were. A big job in any case, but especially so in Big Bushy, which
was by far the largest paddock on Eureka; it was seven miles by seven.

"And do you generally go mustering at a night's notice?"

"No, as a rule we know about it for days before; but last night the
boss--I beg your pardo