The woman progressed slowly but surely. As she recovered some strength they found her memory had gone; she did not know her name, or where she came from. She appeared to imagine she had been there all her life.

Bill Bigs arrived in his buggy, and did not come empty-handed; there was an ample supply stowed away in the back.

"That's her, eh?" he asked.

"Yes. Do you believe me now?" replied Glen smiling.

"I believed you before, but I wanted to see her. I say, Glen, she'll be a grand-looking woman when she's picked up and filled out a bit. Where the deuce did she come from? It's miles away from everywhere here," said Bill.

"It'll be hard to find out. She's lost her memory; she fancies she's been here all her days, but she's sane enough. She'll talk all right in a bit," replied Glen.

"Jim Benny!" exclaimed Bill.

"He's been here ever since she came. It was funny he should turn up almost at the same time."

Jim came into the hut and greeted Bill.

"I never expected to see you here," exclaimed the latter.

"He came to consult me. We're going to throw it up," Glen told him.

"Throw what up?"

"The fence. We've done with it; we're sick of the whole thing. It's too much for flesh and blood to stand."

Bill stared.

"Going!" he cried. "Why you're the best man on the job."

"Am I?" answered Glen. "I'm glad to hear someone has a good opinion of me."

"I always had," pursued Bill. "I'm not surprised. I've often wondered why you came. I remember the first time I saw you in Boonara. I thought you'd dropped from the clouds. Have you sent in your resignation?"

"No. What does it matter. Let 'em find out. You can drop a line to the overseer when we're gone."

"And the fence?" asked Bill "We don't want those cursed rabbits to get through to our side."

"There are plenty to look after it; men are always disappearing. There are good and bad among us. Some fellows are there fighting down the drink curse. I don't blame 'em; it's their only chance. I know two of 'em, good men in their way, but I can tell how it would be with them if they went back to a town life. They'd go under quick. I've been in many a jag myself, but that's not why I came out. I can stifle it; it's only a matter of will," declared Glen.

"I don't know so much about that. I've had a lot of experience in that line. Some of the poor beggars can't help themselves," said Bill, and then added, "They've buried Calder. There'll be no inquiry. Most people think he shot himself. Anyhow we've shovelled him away in Boonara. If any trouble is made they can dig him up again and call him as witness.

He's the only one who could give evidence. All your fellows are glad he's gone."

Jim listened in silence, with a feeling of relief; he did not in the least regret what he had done. He regarded it as a righteous act.

The woman sat up. When she saw Bill she asked, "When did he come?"

This was almost the first sentence she had spoken correctly. Hitherto her words had come disjointedly--in jerks.

"Me, my la.s.s? I've just dropped in to see my friend, Glen. He told me you were here."

"I've been here a long time. Oh, such a long time. I must have been sleeping for weeks. I've forgotten which is Glen," she answered.

"I'm Glen--Glen Leigh," he said as he placed his hand on her shoulder.

"How silly of me that I didn't remember, but I shall not forget again.

You have been very good to me. Have I been very ill?"

"Yes, for a long time," replied Glen humouring her.

She looked at Jim, and Glen said, "He's Jim Benny, another good friend.

And that's Bill Bigs, one of the best of friends. We're all going to look after you."

She smiled.

"Do I want looking after?"

"You'll not be too strong for a good while yet," replied Glen. "When you are strong we're going away from here."

She looked at him wonderingly.

"Going away from home?" she asked.

"You'll want a change when you get stronger."

This put a different complexion on the matter, and she smiled again, nodded, and lay down once more.

"That's the first attempt at conversation she's made," said Glen. "We're getting on."

"You boys--where are you going when you leave here?" asked Bill suddenly.

Glen did not hesitate.

"Sydney," he answered.

Bill remained silent a few minutes, then said slowly, as though still thinking it out, "Sydney! I've a good mind to go with you, I'm sick of Boonara. It's the last place that was ever put up on this earth."

Glen jumped up from his seat, so did Jim. They took a hand each and almost pulled Bill's arms off.

"Do it!" cried Glen. "Do it! We want you. If the three can't make headway in Sydney we're not the men I fancy we are."

"Yes, come with us," put in Jim heartily.

"Stop, you fellows, stop," said Bill. "It's easier said than done. I'll tell you something. I've had an offer for my shanty, a d.a.m.ned good offer, more than it's worth. I can't think why he's made it, or where he's got the money from. I never knew Craig Bellshaw to give much money away, and I don't see where else it could have come from."

"Craig Bellshaw!" exclaimed Glen in surprise, "has he made a bid for it?"

"Not likely. What'd he want with a place like mine? It's Garry Backham, Bellshaw's overseer. He came into my place and wanted to know if I'd sell out. He said he wanted the place and was tired of Mintaro. I was never more surprised in my life. You could have pushed me over with a blade of gra.s.s."

"I met him several times. He seems a taciturn sort of man, sullen, bad tempered--not one of my sort," said Glen.