"Where's he from?" Dudgeon asked, looking after him.

"Oh, that's Mrs. Burke's Irish body-guard," Soden said. "Says he should never have left Ireland, and I agree with him. There'll be trouble out at the Downs some of these days, if she doesn't clear him out or he gives over drinking. Don't you serve him any more, do you hear, Jim?

Hand him over to Brennan if he comes in again," he added to his barman.

"Well, what's the news?" Dudgeon exclaimed as he got out of his buggy and limped over to Soden.

"The leg's not all right yet, I see?" Soden said.

"Oh, that's getting on. Anything fresh about the bank?"

"Why, haven't you heard?" Soden cried. "They've found Eustace, found him with a bullet through him, lying in the water at the ford in the range.

He's over there now," he added, jerking his head towards the police-station.

"What's that you say?" Dudgeon exclaimed, open-eyed and open-mouthed.

"They found him only yesterday--the sub-inspector and the constable. And last night, what do you think? His mate, the man with the beard who stuck your place up, galloped through the town here, and afterwards, when we were all out chasing him, doubled back on us and stole everything he could lay his hands on."

Dudgeon still stood staring open-mouthed and open-eyed.

"There were only two places he missed, the bank and the cottage down the road--Smart's place--where Mrs. Eustace is living."

"Ah! Then that poor thing's a widow?"

"That's so," Soden replied. "But, between you and me, I don't think for long. You know she and Harding--he's our new bank manager, by the way--are old friends, Mr. Dudgeon, and from what I hear from Jim, my barman, who's got his eye on the girl Mrs. Eustace has, they're pretty good friends now, if not a bit more. I shouldn't be surprised, speaking as between man and man, to see her back at the bank again before many years are over, that is, if young Harding stays on here."

"Oh!" Dudgeon exclaimed. "Oh!"

"He's a fine young fellow, Mr. Dudgeon, and you ought to be interested in him, for he was the first to look after you when you were knocked over. But, here, won't you come in for a bit? You're in no-hurry."

"Yes, I am," Dudgeon replied. "I'm in town on business, and when I have business to do, Mr. Soden, I do it. See?"

"It's a good plan."

"Yes, it's a very good plan. So I'll move along. Don't forget to have that horse in sharp at four--I don't like waiting."

He limped away down the road and Soden turned back into his house.

"Old Dudgeon don't seem to have lost much of his sourness since he was laid out," he said to his barman as he pa.s.sed. "He's never been inside this door since I've been here, and they say he hadn't been in for years before then. Queer old chap he is. I wonder if he is mixed up with the Rider?"

Limping along, Dudgeon made straight for Smart's cottage and knocked at the door.

"I've come to see Mrs. Eustace," he said gruffly when Bessie answered.

"I'm sorry, sir, but Mrs. Eustace can't see anyone to-day. It's----"

"You go and tell her it's me, do you hear? Mr. Dudgeon of Taloona. I'll come in and sit down till she's ready."

He pushed the door wide open and stepped inside.

"But Mrs. Eustace, sir----" Bessie began.

"Did I speak loud enough for you to hear, or didn't I?"

"Yes, sir, but----"

"Then go and tell Mrs. Eustace I'm here."

He was nearly at the door of the sitting-room when Mrs. Eustace, having heard his voice, reached the pa.s.sage.

"Ah," he exclaimed. "I want to talk to you. Just come in here, will you?"

He held the door open for her and waited till she pa.s.sed in. Then he followed and closed the door.

"Just excuse me one minute," he said as he remained standing by the door which he suddenly flung open again.

"I thought so," he cried, as he saw Bessie in the pa.s.sage. "You clear out of it. What I've got to say to Mrs. Eustace don't concern you, nor Jim the barman. Do you hear?"

Bessie heard, and scurried.

"It's only fair to tell you," he said, turning to Mrs. Eustace, "that what that girl sees and hears here goes to Jim the barman who, if you don't know it, tells Soden, and Soden tells the town. You understand?"

He limped across the room and sat down.

"I've come in to tell you something," he went on. "When I got here I heard the news. But that makes no difference to what I had to tell you.

I can still tell you. But I must say something else first. You wouldn't stay on at Taloona when I asked you, but that was your business. Now this has come to you. I'm no hand at talking sympathy, but if you want anything that I can get for you it's yours--you understand?"

He leaned forward, with his hands on his knees, looking her steadily in the face.

"Thank you, Mr. Dudgeon, I--I understand," she said haltingly.

"That's what I thought you'd say," he remarked as he sat back. "I know it's a sad business for you, as it stands, and I'd rather you never had it. You're the first woman I've felt that way about for more years than you've lived. But I'm sorry for you, hang me if I'm not."

"It is--good of you to say so," she murmured.

"Still, you're young, and there are many years before you which won't be all sad, you may be sure. But now you're a widow will you come to Taloona?"

She looked up quickly without replying.

"I don't care how it is. You can make it your home as a guest, or you can come as Mrs. Dudgeon."

"Oh, please, Mr. Dudgeon," she exclaimed as she stood up. "You--I know you don't mean to hurt me, but----"

She broke off and turned away.

"It wasn't said to hurt you," he said. "It was only to show you what I'd do for you. Seemed to me it was the best way to put it. I only want you to understand I'm with you whatever comes along. Will you take it that way?"

"I know," she exclaimed impulsively, as she crossed over to him and laid her hand on his shoulder. "I know how you mean it, Mr. Dudgeon, and I appreciate it more than I can say. It was the----"

"The clumsy way I put it," he said, as she hesitated. "That's all right.