Arthur Upfield - Sands of Windee

“I suppose you are right, Jeff,” she said in her cheerful way. “We should be thankful to be living in a large cool house instead of one of those dog-kennels you call boundary-riders’ huts.”

“It is surprising what you can get used to,” he said grimly. “In my youth I lived in an affair which was no better than a black-fellow’s humpy. Anyway, my lads are better housed than the majority.” With that Jeff relapsed into silence. An unaccountable foreboding was pressing on his mind, but he put the feeling down to a touch of liver. Mr Roberts and Marion started to talk books, a subject that served throughout the meal.

Afterwards Stanton passed out through the wide-openfrench windows to the cool, blind-shaded veranda, where he sank into a wickedly luxurious lounge-chair and proceeded to roll a cigarette. He was not thinking of Bony now, but of his daughter. He was still thinking of her when she came and sat on the arm of his chair, saying:

“Will Jeff be here to-day, Dad?”

“No. He has to move sheep out ofWhittocks into Deep Bend. By the way, I am sending a truck to Broken Hill to-morrow. If there is anything special you want for Christmas, send in your order.”

“Very well, Dad,” she said, smiling softly. “Christmas is a long time coming. I think I will buy you a cigarette-making machine. That one you are now smoking looks like a camel in a fit.”

Stanton laughed ruefully. “Perhaps you will be so kind as to make me a handsomer one,” he said. “Christmas is not so far away, and afterwards you may not have the time to make me cigarettes.”

“Why not?”Deft fingers were busy at cigarette-making.

“Because Dash will be here on Christmas Day.”

For quite a little time Marion gazed searchingly at her father. “You think he has not forgotten or changed his mind?”

“I know that he has not forgotten and that he has not changed his mind. Have you?”

Marion’s dark eyes closed for a second. When they opened they were like stars.

“How could I forget when I have been counting the days?” A blush dyed her cheeks. Slipping off the chair-arm she stood looking into his grim, life-scarred face, and added: “You are a hard man in some ways, Dad, but you’re a wise man. I’ve come to see that.” Then she fled.

Jeff Stanton sat on the veranda until Ron with his passengers arrived. He watched the truck pull up before the house-gate, and when he saw a lady descend he leaned forward in his chair and stared. And in the flight of a few seconds Jeff’s face was drained of its colour, and his eyes became glassy with fear.

The Stolen Bride

THE DAYS that followed Bony’s visit to Mount Lion provided much food for thought. The first stage of the case was almost complete, but not quite.

Proof that Marks was dead constituted the first stage. The nature of the silver plate was vouched for by Sir Alfred Worthington, but as evidence of Marks’s death it was not absolutely conclusive. Assuming that further evidence was obtained which would emphatically establish that Marks was dead, the finger of fate steadily pointed to Dot and Dash as the murderers, for not only was Marks’s money discovered buried in the fireplace of the partners’ camp, but also the kangaroos shot by Dot had been burned where had been discovered a boot-sprig, suggesting that a human body had been disposed of by burning as well as those of the kangaroos.

As the case now stood Bony was just short of sufficient evidence to prove that Marks was dead. Nor did he think he was justified in arresting the partners on suspicion of murder, although they could be arrested for having concealed Marks’s money. On that ground he would have ordered their arrest had it not been for the fact that the man seen by Ludbi fighting Marks and revealed through Moongalliti by Illawalli wasneither Dash nor Dot.

The coming of Mrs Thomas had disarranged the threads the half-caste was disentangling so laboriously. Certain facts regarding her supplied by Headquarters indicated that Marks was not killed for his money. Now had arisen a suspicion that the motive of the crime was far deeper than the lust for material gain-if Jeffrey Stanton had been christened Joseph and his father’s surname wasNorth.

In her youth Mrs Thomas had figured in a romance that had gained for her much newspaper publicity, as well as the deep interest of the police. This romance had occurred forty years before. Mrs Thomas’s maiden name was Green, and she was the daughter of a small selector who lived a few miles out of Louth, on the River Darling. At the age of eighteen Rose Green was a very pretty girl, and, as was natural, was much sought after by the young men of the district. Her favours apparently were bestowed about equally on Joseph North, a young but prosperous boss-drover, and ThomasThomas, who owned a neighbouring selection. Of these two young men the girl’s parents preferred the latter.

The parental preference may have decided Rose Green eventually to give her hand to Joseph North, for she was a wilful girl, and in the opinion of that time considered bold. She promised to marryNorth when he returned from a droving trip that was expected to last seven weeks, and before he left he bought a plot of land in Louth and made arrangements with a Wilcannia builder to erect a wooden house.

North having gone off on his trip with six thousand sheep, the Greens brought pressure to bear on the daughter in favour of ThomasThomas. Rose Green at last surrendered, and the arrangements for the wedding were hastened to ensure that when North returned it would be too late for the girl to change her mind again. It was too late, even thoughNorth arrived back a week earlier than was expected.

It appears that he knew nothing of his sweetheart’s altered programme until he entered the hotel at Louth to pay off his men and groom himself before rushing to his adored one. On that same day Rose Green was married to ThomasThomas. North entered Louth precisely one hour after the bridal-party left the township for the wedding-breakfast at the bride’s former home.

Besides the bride and groom there were seated at that breakfast no fewer than fourteen people. It was the last day of June, and, the weather being cold, the feast was eaten in the main room of the house. The room was crowded. The chatter of the guests was enlivened by a thirty-six-gallon cask of beer set on a stand in a corner. It was a day of days. Everyone was exhilarated, especially the men. And then in upon them walked Joseph North holding in each hand a nickel-plated man-size revolver.

In appearanceNorth was the superior of the bridegroom. He wore a navy-blue serge suit of the then fashionable cut. On his feet were tan shoes, and on his head a black bowler hat. In the lapel of his coat was a single white rose. Apparently he would have appeared thus had he actually led Rose Green to the altar.

Filling in the blanks, Bony easily visualized the scene that followed. The half-caste’s sympathies were entirely with Joseph North, then and throughout. North threatened to shoot any person there who attempted to rise from his or her seat. Doubtless the young man’s facial expression was extremely earnest, for not one disobeyed him, not even ThomasThomas himself when he was minutely instructed in the task of binding his guests to their chairs with lengths of rope, undoubtedly brought there by the jilted North. Afterwards he had the unique experience of being himself bound to a chair by his bride of an hour.

“I think you will be fairly secure for some time,” North told them in general. To the girl’s mother he said: “You tricked me, didn’t you? You knew that I was making a home for Rose, yet you bullied her into marrying Thomas. Had Rose been given a fair chance to decide between me and Thomas, and she had chosen Thomas, I’d have said nothing. But no, not only did you bully her into marrying Thomas, but you stopped word reaching me, and it was only because I got through my contract a week ahead that I got back to Louth to-day.