"If you please, sir--now. I know the man so well, and I am certain that I can answer for there being no more trouble."

"That's speaking broadly, my boy," said Mr Dillon, slapping Nic on the shoulder; "but comes tea--dinner's ready, and we can continue our argument as we have it."

Nic shook his head.

"I couldn't eat, sir, with that poor fellow in such trouble," he said.

"Well, that's very kind and nice of you, my boy," said Mr Dillon, "and I like you for it; but come now, let's be reasonable. You see, I am the magistrate of this district, but I want to talk to you, not like a man of law, only as your father's friend and neighbour."

"Yes, I felt that you would, sir," said Nic, who was encouraged.

"Your father has, I suppose, left you in charge of his station?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, boys out here have to act like men, and I like your manly way about this business. You came back, found out the trouble, and rode over directly to set it right?"

"Yes, sir--exactly."

"That's all very right and just; only as a man of long experience, young Braydon, you see, I know better how to manage these troubles than you possibly can--a lad fresh over from school."

"Yes, sir, I suppose so," said Nic, "in most cases; but I do know our man better than you."

"You think so, my lad; but you are wrong. He was my servant first."

"Still, you will let our man come back with me, sir?"

"In your father's absence, my boy, I have too much respect for him, too much interest in the safety of your mother and sisters, to send back unpunished a desperate man."

"Don't say that, sir. You don't know Leather indeed."

"'Nothing like Leather,'" said Mr Dillon, smiling. "Yes, I should think he was a great favourite of yours. But, come now, my boy; you have done your part well. Here, come in and have a good meal. Your man has done what many more of these fellows do--broken out in a bit of savagery. He is shut up safely in yonder, too much done up for me to say anything to him to-night; but tomorrow morning he will be tamed down a bit, and kept for three or four days to return to his senses, and then he will come back and go on with his work like a lamb."

"Mr Dillon, you don't know him, sir!" cried Nic earnestly. "Such a cruel act would drive the poor fellow mad."

"I know him, and I know you, my boy. There, you are young and enthusiastic; but I see, plainly enough, you have been too much with this fellow. There, frankly, you have been with him a good deal?"

"Yes, sir," said Nic.

"Precisely. And he has not corrupted you, but he has made you believe that he is an injured, innocent man. Frankly, now, is it not so?"

"Yes, and I do believe," said Nic quietly.

"Exactly. Well, my dear boy, you see I do not; and if you will take my advice you will have nothing to do with him in the future."

"Mr Dillon, you are mistaken," cried Nic. "Pray--pray do not punish him!"

"My dear young friend, pray--pray don't you interfere with a magistrate's duties."

"Then you will not let him come, sir?"

"Certainly not, for at least a week."

"But, Mr Dillon, promise me that--that you--you will not flog him,"

said Nic, in a husky whisper.

"I promise you, my good lad, that tomorrow morning I shall have him out in front of my men and my four a.s.signed servants--convicts, and have him given a good sound application of the cat. Now that business is settled in a way that ten years hence you will agree is quite just; so come in like a sensible young neighbour, have a good feed, and I'll ride part of the way back with you after."

"Do you mean this, sir?" said Nic hoa.r.s.ely.

"I always say what I mean, boy, and act up to it. Once more, come in."

Nic walked straight to where the man was rubbing down his horse, stopped him, picked up and girthed his saddle, saw to the bridle, and then mounted, while Mr Dillon stood watching him, half amused, half angry.

Then a thought struck Nic, and he bent down as if to reach the cheek-piece of the bit, and slipped a shilling into the man's hand.

"Where's our man shut up?" he whispered.

"In the big shed behind the house," said the man, staring.

Then at a touch Sour Sorrel started off.

"Going now?" shouted Mr Dillon.

Nic raised his hand to his hat as he galloped off, but he did not turn his head.

"The conceited young puppy!" cried Mr Dillon angrily, as he watched the boy's receding form; "and he wouldn't eat bread and salt. He deserves to be flogged himself for his obstinacy. I don't know, though: I wish I'd had a boy like that."

He re-entered the house, and Nic rode on homeward, the slowest, saddest ride he had had since he entered the colony, for as soon as he was out of sight of the house he drew rein and let Sorrel walk.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

A NIGHT'S WORK.

"What shall I do?" said Nic to himself.

Being faint, and feeling half stunned, no answer came; and he looked round at the beautiful country, which appeared newer and more beautiful than ever in the orange-gold of approaching evening, while all within was black with misery and despair.

He never knew before how much he liked the stern, manly fellow who that next morning was to be tied up and flogged; and the more Nic thought of the horrible punishment the deeper grew his misery, as he felt what a helpless boy he was in the matter; and a number of wild plans began to enter his head.

He had no gun with him now, but he could ride back, fetch it, and wait till morning. Then he would ride up to the Wattles just when they were going to tie up Leather, take his place beside him, and, with presented gun, dare any one to touch his father's servant.

Then the weak tears came into the boy's eyes, and he laughed a piteous, contemptuous laugh at himself for harbouring such a silly, romantic notion.

And all the while Sorrel went on at his steady walk, growing cool and comfortable, refreshed too by the light feed he had had and the rub down.