Ellen Harriott
found him in the office manfully wrestling with some extra long
words, and stopped for a few minutes' talk. She had a liking for
the young Englishman, and any talk was better than to be left alone
with her thoughts.
"These are bad times for the old station, Mr. Carew," she said.
"We don't know what is going to happen next."
Carew was not going to haul down the flag just yet. "I believe
everything 'll come all right in the long run, don't you know," he
said. "Never give up first hit, you know; see it out--eh, what?"
"I want to get away out of this for a while," she said. "I am run
down. I think the bush monotony tells on women. I don't want anyone
to fall sick, but I do wish I could get a little nursing to do
again--just for a change. I would nurse Red Mick himself."
Is there anything in telepathy? Do coming events sometimes send
warnings on ahead? Certain it is that, even as she spoke, a rider
on a sweating horse was seen coming at full speed up the flat; he
put his horse over the sliprails that led into the house paddock
without any hesitation, and came on at a swinging gallop.
"What is this?" said Ellen Harriott, "more trouble? It is only
trouble that comes so fast. Why, it is one of Red Mick's nephews!" By
this time the rider was up to them; without dismounting he called
out Miss! Please, Miss! There's been an accident.
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