The Sweep Winner. Gould Nat
storm brewing, the promise of more welcome rain. The lightning flashed through the hut, playing in and out at the doors. The crashing sounds came nearer; then the rain burst in torrents.
Spotty did not move. He remained with his eyes on Jim, not even giving a glance at the figure on the bed. The woman slept through it all. Jim wondered at her strange stillness. Was she dead?
The thought made him start. He had not put his hand on her again after he kissed her, and could not feel or hear her breath. Spotty saw him move, and growled. He seemed about to spring, then crouched again.
It was a strange situation – the man, the woman, and the dog, in the hut, the storm raging outside, and Glen Leigh riding on his mission to Boonara.
CHAPTER IV
"IT'S FOR A WOMAN"
"Hello, what brings you here?" said Bill Bigs, as Glen Leigh entered his house. The tone was not encouraging. Bill was in an ill-humour, and it was not difficult to discover the cause. The bar was in a state of wild confusion. Broken bottles, bits of wood, splinters from the rough furniture, and jagged pieces of glass lay about. There was every sign of a fight.
Glen took it all in at a glance. Although he was in a desperate hurry he knew the best way to succeed would be by humouring him.
"Bit of a skirmish, eh?" began Glen.
"Two of your fence fellows began it. I never saw such beasts in my life. They all are."
Glen's eyes glittered.
"Does that include me?" he asked.
"No. I can't say it does, but there's no telling what may happen. You'll break out some day. Flesh and blood can't stand your job," replied Bill.
Here was an opening. Glen was holding himself in leash wonderfully well. All the time he was thinking, "What's she doing? What's he doing?"
He wanted to hurry back. Ping would have to hustle when he made a start.
"You're right," he agreed, "if it wasn't for a nip of your good stuff now and again, Bill, I'd go under."
"I see. So that's what you're here for. Well, I can't gratify you this time. I've run out."
Bill was husbanding his resources; it was his habit. Glen knew there was a tough job before him.
"I must have some of the best, Bill, I'm run down," persisted Glen.
Bill laughed.
"Must have it? I like that. Look around. Do you think I'm going to stand that sort of thing from your fellows without paying somebody out? As you happen to have come along first I'll pay you out. You'll get nothing from me to-day."
"I must have it, Bill. I'll pay double price for it."
"When?"
"In a month. I can't do it now."
"A month! Six months you mean, and then it's uncertain."
"Not with me."
"I'll not deny you're a good payer, and straight, but you've got to suffer for the sins of others. You're one of 'em," returned Bill.
Glen Leigh leaned over the counter, his face close to Bill's.
"If you knew what I wanted it for you'd give it me without payment," he said.
Bill looked hard at him. Glen's face was quivering. His mouth twitched. His eyes glared. He was thinking of the woman. How should he get the brandy if Bill persisted in refusing, for he meant having it at any cost?
"What's it for?"
"I can't tell you. I will before long, but not now."
"Then it's a fake. You want it for yourself."
"I do not."
He fancied he could hear her moaning, becoming restless, and if he got what he wanted and hurried back she might have a chance. It exasperated him.
"Why not tell me the reason?" asked Bill, fairly enough.
"There's somebody ill in my hut."
"Oh, that's it, one of your mates. Do you think I'm going to help him after last night's work? Not me."
Glen wanted to conceal that it was a woman, but he was wasting precious time. Could Bill be trusted to keep it to himself? He had no desire for the township to know until he had found out all about her.
"It's not one of my mates. I'd not ask it for him after that," and he waved his hand round. "You'll not say a word, but keep it dark?"
"It depends on what it is you tell me."
"I can't tell you. Bill, we've been what folks call friends, as far as it goes here. Promise me. It's a matter of life and death. You'll not be sorry. You'll have done a good action, and saved a life."
Bill saw he was in deadly earnest. He knew Glen Leigh had always gone straight with him.
"Out with it then. I'll promise, so help me I will, but I don't say I'll let you have what you want."
Glen saw he was yielding. Again his thoughts went back to his hut, and he groaned at the loss of time.
"It's for a woman. She's got fever, and is delirious. She'll die if she doesn't have some stimulant. For God's sake, Bill, let me have it."
Bill stared at him. There was a genuine, even pathetic ring in his voice. But a woman! He couldn't be expected to swallow that yarn.
"Where is she?" he asked.
"In my hut."
Bill laughed. He couldn't help it. The thing was so ridiculous.
"Who's the lady?" he asked with a grin.
Leigh's hands clenched. He was becoming dangerous.
"I haven't time to tell you lies. I don't know who she is, or where she comes from. All I can say is I found her in there lying on my shakedown, dying," and he told the whole story as rapidly as possible to the astonished Bill.
"It's as true as gospel, and Jim Benny's with her waiting my return. Think of the time I've wasted here. I may be too late. Ping's none too fast, but he's sure. For heaven's sake, Bill, let me have it, and some tinned stuff, soup, anything you've got. There's nothing at my place for her."
He spoke rapidly, excitedly. He was strung to the highest pitch as he thought how long he had already been away.
"It's the rummiest yarn I ever heard, but I don't see as how you could make it up. I wonder who she is?"
"That's what I've got to find out. If she dies, her secret goes with her. Help to save her, then we'll get to know," begged Glen.
Bill thought of his girl at work in Adelaide. Supposing she was in such a plight? The mere idea made him shiver.
"I'll do it, Glen. Damn it, man, if you'd outed with it at first the thing would have been settled in five minutes."
He disappeared. Glen knew if he had fired the story at him straight away it would not have been believed at all. Bill also knew it as he dived into the bowels of the earth beneath his bar.
"He's worked me cleverly," he muttered. "He saw I was cut up rough when he came in, and he handled me well. It's a queer go, a very queer go, but I believe him. He's not given to lying, and in any case I can go and see for myself in a day or two. If he's put up a game on me, I'll – No, he'd never do it. He's too much of a man. And his face! It might be his sweetheart the way he looked."
Bill was rummaging about. Selecting two bottles he took them with him. As he went back through his storeroom, he collected some tinned milk, soup, and biscuits.
He packed them all carefully so that there would be no risk of breakage, then went back to the bar.
Two men had come in during his absence. One was "on the fence," and as usual they had selected a bottle of alleged whisky, and were helping themselves. Glen had refused to join them. He was called a sullen bounder.
"Get out of this," yelled Bill when he saw the rider on the fence. "You're one of the devils who caused all this mess."
"I'll pay for it – at