What do you think about it, Nosey?"
"What the----should I know about your sheep?" said Nosey. "Do you
mean to insinivate that I took 'em? I'll tell you what it is, Baldy;
it'll be just as well for you to keep your blasted tongue quiet about
your sheep, for if I hear any more about 'em, I'll see you for it; do
you hear?"
"Oh, yes, I hear. All right, Nosey, we'll see about it," said Baldy.
There would have been a fight perhaps, but Baldy was a smaller man
than the other and was growing old, while Nosey was in the prime of
life.
Baldy went to Nyalong next day. His rations did not include gin, and
he wanted some badly, the more so because he was in trouble about his
lost sheep. Gin, known then as "Old Tom," was his favourite remedy
for all ailments, both of mind and body. If he could not find out
what had become of his sheep, his master might dismiss him without a
character. There was not much good character running to waste on the
stations, but still no squatter would like to entrust a flock to a
shepherd who was suspected of having stolen and sold his last
master's sheep.
Baldy walked to Nyalong along the banks of the lake. The country was
then all open, unfenced, except the paddocks at the home stations.
The boundary between two of the runs was merely marked by a ploughed
furrow, not very straight, which started near the lake, and went
eastward along the plains.
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