No one was seriously hurt, except "Omadhaun" Doyle, who had been struck on the head by the big mare's hoof. He lay very still, breathing stertorously, and Jerry the Swell took the trouble to come over to the four-in-hand, and inform them that he thought "Omadhaun" had got percussion of the brain, and that things looked very "omnibus" for him.

However, as soon as he could swallow whisky he was p.r.o.nounced out of danger, and the Kuryong party was allowed to depart in peace for home, glad enough to get away. But the two girls were afraid to drive the big mare, as she was thoroughly roused after her dash in among the Doyles and Donohoes, and was inclined to show a lot of temper. A hurried consultation was held, with the result that Ellen Harriott and Alick were received into the four-in-hand, while Hugh was entrusted with the task of driving his employer home in the sulky.

Now, a sulky is a vehicle built to accommodate two people only, and those two people have to sit fairly close together. For a few miles they spun along in silence, Hugh being well occupied with steadying the mare. From time to time he looked out of the corner of his eye at his companion; she looked steadily, almost stolidly, in front of her. Then she began to tap on the floor of the sulky with her foot. At last she turned on him.

"Well, we didn't win," she said. "I suppose you are glad."

"Why should I be glad, Miss Grant?"

"Oh! you said we oughn't to go and race among those people. And you were right. It served them just right that the mare ran over them. I hope that none of them are going to die."

"They wouldn't be much missed," said Hugh wearily. "They have started stealing the sheep again."

"Can't you catch them?" she said, with pretended asperity. "If you went out and hid in a fallen tree, don't you think you could catch them?"

Hugh looked at her to see if she were in earnest, but she looked straight in front again and said nothing, still keeping up the slight tapping of her foot. He flushed a little, and spoke very quietly.

"I think I'll have to resign from your employment, Miss Grant. I don't care about stopping any longer; and I will go out back and take up one of those twenty-thousand-acre leases in Queensland. You might put Poss or Binjie on in my place. They would be glad of a billet, and they might catch Red Mick for you."

"Do you really want to go?" she said, looking straight at him for the first time. "Why do you want to go?"

"Why?" he burst out. "Because I can't bear being with you and near you all day long, when I care for you, and you don't care for me. I can't eat, or sleep, or rest here now, and it's time I was away. You might give me a good character as a station-manager," he went on grimly, "even though I can't catch Red Mick for you. I'll get you to make out my cheque, and then I'll be off up North."

She was looking down now. The sun had gone, and the stars were peeping out, and in the dusk he could catch no glimpse of her face. There was silence for a few moments, then he went on talking, half to himself.

"It's best for me, anyhow. It's time I made a start for myself. I couldn't stay on here as manager all my life."

Then she spoke, very low and quietly.

"You wouldn't care to stay on--for anything else, then?"

"How do you mean for anything else, Miss Grant? You don't want me for anything except as manager, do you?"

"Well," she said, "you haven't asked me yet whether I do or not!"