The lethargy of the settlement was shattered by the noise of a heavy truck bouncing over the rough track. The hens rushed for home in the pepper trees. Two dogs raced neck and neck with the vehicle until it stopped before the hotel steps. Dust was wafted along the veranda front, and when it had passed, Bony saw the rear of an enormous man descending from the truck. He turned slightly, hitching up hisgaberdine trousers, and Bony could see his face. It was square and rugged and grim. The thatch of grey hair was unkempt, and the long drooping moustache as aggressive as that which adorned the wizened face of ’Un.

He stood by the truck while another enormous man gingerly clambered down, a man not as tall but as wide and as thick as the first. His hair was barely touched by the years. It was black, as black as the square-cut beard. He nodded curtly when the other spoke to him, and led the way to the veranda to mount stiffly the three wooden steps. His face, where not concealed by the beard, was white, unnaturally so in this land north of Capricorn, and his dark eyes were feverishly brilliant.

“Good day, ’Un!” he said to the yardman.

“Day-ee, Jasper!” replied ’Un.“Day-ee, Silas! How’s things?”

“Fair enough,” answered the black-bearded man. “Coming in for a snifter?”

Jasper and Silas Breen entered the hotel.’Un said:

“That’s an order. You come, too. Save argument.”

“I dislike argument,” averred Bony, rising from the chair. “Are there any more like theseBreens?”

“Plenty,” replied ’Un proudly. “There’s Ezra Breen. He’s much younger and tougher than these two. Got a temper, has Ezra.”

The yardman led the way to the bar.