“Had a bender lately?” Bony politely inquired.

“No, not for a long time now. I’mgettin ’ on, and after a bender Isuffers something terrible from indigestion. Got to take a bit of care ofmeself.”

“How old are you?”

“Don’t rightly know. Last census time, the Boss estimated me at sixty years. Whatd’you reckon aboutcarb soda?”

“For the horrors?”

“No, me indigestion.”

“I’ve been told thatcarb soda is good for anything.”

“ ’Boutright, too. Read in the paper that a bloke in Russia lived to be a hundred and forty ’coshe washed everyday incarb soda. Might take that onmeself. Carb soda’s cheap enough.”

Bony thought the suggestion an excellent idea, but asked:

“How long have you been working onPorchester?”

“Me? Nine years and a bit. I’vekinda settled onPorchester. Wallace is a good boss, and, as I said a mile or two back, the pubs in Menindee is just the same as theyusta be up atUradangie. Whisky’s got more water in it and they charges six times more, that’s all.”

“You’d know this run, then?”

RedDraffin spat at the passing wind, flexed his shoulders.

“I know every water-hole, everysandhill, every blade of grass onPorchester. Every ruddy sheep knows me be name, and this year there’s over sixty thousand of ’em. Never took much to horses, though. You like horses…musta.”

“Yes, I like horses. What’s the overseer like at Lake Otway?”

“Mister Martyr? Good enough,” repliedDraffin.“Knows his work. Done no one a bad turn that I ever heard about. Keeps his place and expects us to keep ours. You married?”

“Yes.”

“Me, too. Lasted eleven days and a bit. Found out me wife was married to a butcher in Cobar. She cleared out with a shearer, and me and the butcher’s been good cobbers ever since. Women! You go careful with the women at Lake Otway.”

“There are women?”

“Two. Mother does thecookin ’ and the daughter does thehousemaiding.”Draffin chuckled.“Ruddy termites, both of ’em.”