Their astonishment was deeper than ever when the coach
stopped for a midday halt. It was quite impossible for Considine
to conceal himself. The house, where the coach changed horses, was
a galvanised-iron, one-roomed edifice in the middle of a glaring
expanse of treeless plain, in which a quail could scarcely have
hidden successfully. It was clear that Considine and his wife would
have to come face to face.
Carew and Charlie looked expectantly at each other, and clambered
down quickly when the coach stopped. Considine descended more
slowly; straightening his figure and looking fixedly before him,
he marched up to the door of the change-house.
His wife got leisurely out of the coach, put on her bonnet, and walked
straight over to him; then she looked him full in the face for at
least three seconds, and passed by without a sign of recognition.
The three men looked at each other.
"Well, this bangs all," said Considine. "She knew me all right. Why
didn't she speak? She's afraid I'll clear out, and she's shammin'
not to know me, so's she'll have me arrested as soon as she sights
a bobby. I know her. Perhaps I'd better offer her something to go
back and leave me alone, hey?"
This was vetoed by a majority of two to one, and once more the coach
started. They plodded away on the weary, dusty journey, until the
iron roofs and walls of Barcoo gleamed like a mirage in the distance,
and the coach rolled up to the hotel.
Pages:
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193