A Sydney-Side Saxon by Rolf Boldrewood — Read

THEY waited an hour and fed their horses as well as themselves. They all looked tucked up, what with hard riding and camping out with nothing to eat. Then they went off--Mr. Dorsett and his boy one way, Constable Brent and Roper the other. I couldn't help feeling sorry for Roper, though he'd never showed himself a friend to me, when I saw him led away with the bracelets on him. The trooper made him change horses too, which, I expect, he felt worst of all. 'Quondong's too smart for this old screw of mine,' he says. 'You might fancy to make a bolt of it, and I couldn't see the way you went on him. You might, and you might not. Anyhow, I'll make safe. You take Dandaloo here; he ain't rough, and he know's he's going home.' When he saw the trooper mount Quondong he gave one look as if he'd never realised the thing properly before. The old horse didn't like it either, for he snorted, and seemed half-minded to play up. I don't suppose he'd had a stranger on his back for years. But Brent gave him a chuck with the bit and a dig with the spurs that showed he was going to stand no nonsense, and away they went, Roper hangin' down his head and lookin' regular broke up.

'I must have a nip after that,' says Burdock. 'I feel quite down in the mouth, though it serves Jim Roper dashed well right. Here's a chap that's well off, saved money and got it in the bank, ain't married, and got neither chick nor child, and he goes and puts his head in a noose for the value of a few calves! But it ain't the first time. Many a clearskin he's nobbled afore now from Westburn, and many a fat beast went down with Buffray's cattle as he never knowed about.'