“Want anything from town today, Arnold?” The big man shook his head, saying:

“Don’t think so, Mr Wootton. Not for the station, anyway.”

“All right. The wind oughtn’t to be strong out at Boulka. You might take the truck and go for another load of iron. And take your time to get the iron off without tearing holes in it. You know.”

“Good enough,” drawled Arnold, and Linda asked:

“May I go with Arnold, Mr Wootton?”

“If your mother says so,” he assented, and called Eric.

Linda raced to the house. Eric was lanky, raw-boned, slow. When Linda returned he was saying:

“Themud’ll keep ’emfrom crossing for another six weeks even if it don’t rain, whichain’t likely. Them steers know enough to shy off getting themselves bogged. ’Sides, before the lake is hard enough to take ’em, the floodoughta be right down the Coopers and the Georgina, an’ spilling over from the Diamantina.”

“Could be, Eric,” agreed Mr Wootton. “Well, take a ride out to Number Fourteen and look over the stores. Anything you want from town today?”

Eric chuckled dryly, and winked at Linda.

“Well,” he drawled, “you might bring me a box of them lollies with the nuts on ’em. Seems like I got to give a present to my girl. Must keep in with her, y’know.”

“Yes, you must get a present for your sweetheart,” agreed Mr Wootton, seriously. “Is her name Linda, by any chance?”

“That’stellin ’, Mr Wootton,” and again the wink which produced beaming adoration in the little girl’s face.

The next man called to receive orders was the young man named Harry. He came forward with rolling gait, and even the wind could not drown the tinkle of his spurs. He was sent out to ride a section of the boundary fence. The fourth man, named Bill, was instructed to ride into White-Gum Depression and report on the feed. To him Mr Wootton put questions concerning the aborigines.