Lightheartedly they consented to stay the night, in the hope
of seeing Hugh, to deliver their message about the weaners--they
seemed to have satisfactorily arranged the question of mustering.
And when Miss Grant said, "Won't your sheep be dying of thirst
in that paddock, where there is no water?" both brothers replied,
"Oh, we'll be off at crack of dawn in the morning and fix 'em up
all right."
"They always say that," said the old lady, "and generally stay
three days. I expect they'll make it four, now that you're here."
CHAPTER X.
A LAWYER IN THE BUSH.
Gavan Blake, attorney and solicitor, sat in his office at Tarrong,
opening his morning's letters. The office was in a small weatherboard
cottage in the "main street" of Tarrong (at any rate it might
fairly claim to be the main street, as it was the only street that
had any houses in it). The front room, where he sat, was fitted
up with a table and a set of pigeon-holes full of dusty papers, a
leather couch, a small fire-proof safe, and a book-case containing
about equal proportions of law-books and novels. A few maps of
Tarrong township and neighbouring stations hung on the walls. The
wooden partition of the house only ran up to the rafters, and over
it could plainly be heard his housekeeper scrubbing his bedroom.
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