Australia Revenged Part 29

CHAPTER XVII.

SYDNEY.

At day-break the steamer entered that splendid harbour, second to none in the world, and made for Port Jackson. The magnificent scenery and its ever-varying vista of lovely views were unheeded by the boys in their restlessness to get ash.o.r.e and find traces of their quarry. As soon as the boat was made fast, they hurried ash.o.r.e with their baggage and pa.s.sed rapidly the sleepy inspection of a Customs' official. Hailing a cab and directing the driver to Tattersall's Hotel, another surprise awaited them, for, seated by the side of the driver, was the familiar face of Terence O'Flynn.

"Hallo, Terence. What are you doing here?" asked Hal, in astonishment.

"Just over for a holiday, your honour," answered he, at the same time giving an expressive wink, so Hal said no more but jumped in.

Arriving at the hotel, Terence carried their baggage inside, followed closely by Hal and Reg.

"I was after following d.i.c.k over here, sir," he said, hurriedly. "Wyck left for Brisbane two days ago. I wired to Hobart, but, having no reply, so faith I reckoned you had left. I should like to have a talk beside you, but sure I want to do another trip with my mate, I will come back in a quarter-of-an-hour."

On his return the three adjourned to a private room, and Terence told his story.

"'The devil' says I as I read about Wyck being picked up and landed at Sydney. I had been keeping a sharp eye on d.i.c.k, and when I sees a boy bring him a telegram I guessed something was in the wind, so when he put a pal on his cab, I followed suit. We both came by the express, and I took good care d.i.c.k should not spot me. When we arrived, he calls a cab, as bold as bra.s.s, and sings out, 'Grosvenor Hotel.' I didn't follow him there, but went to Moloney's house. That was Moloney's cab we were in, for Jim and myself are old friends. Yer see, him and me was courting the same----"

"Never mind that, Terence. Go on. What did you do next?"

"I just kept my eyes on them, and several times see them together, and the day afore yesterday I see them going to the wharf, and Wyck goes aboard one of the Queensland boats. d.i.c.k stayed till the boat left, waved his hat like mad, and then went off to a pub and got awfully tight. Next day he went back home by the train, and I would have gone too, only Jim got me to stop for his baby's christening, as I was to be G.o.dfather. I did stop yer honours, and we did christen that baby, both inside and out. Jim and meself went on the spree, and a right good time we had, so help me----"

"Never mind that, Terence. Has d.i.c.k had any more soft lines since?"

"No more that I know of, your honour."

"Did he not have one to St. Kilda?"

"Och, moi! I knew it: by jabers I did. Directly I heard it, I knew it,"

shrieked Terence, excitedly, and he lay back, and went off into one of his laughing fits. He rolled in his seat, and swayed to and fro, fairly roaring with laughter. Hal and Reg looked on in quiet amus.e.m.e.nt, and when Terence had subsided somewhat, Hal said, sternly:

"Terence O'Flynn, when you have finished your laugh, you will, perhaps, let us into the joke."

"Beg pardon, your honours," jerked out Terence. "But it was a joke. Poor old d.i.c.k," and off he started again.

"Go on, Terence, have another try," said Reg.

"No, no, but you know the joke. I know you did it, and ye did it well, too."

"If you will tell us what it was, we shall be able to judge," said Hal, quietly, which sobered Terence.

"I'll tell you, then. It was a couple of days after you'd left for Tasmania, when d.i.c.k comes up to me and Joe Gardiner--that's another cabby. He comes up smiling, in fact regular grinning, and flashes a letter in front of us. 'See here, chaps,' says he, 'this is the sort of game that pays. Darn your shilling fares, says I; this is my style.' The letter was from some toff, 'cause it come from Menzie's Hotel. It asked d.i.c.k to meet him at St. Kilda. 'See what it is to have a connection.

This 'ere chap was recommended to call on me, and I knows his game. I've just got to get a good turn-out and drive down to the beach, call at the pub and get a letter which will give me instructions where to meet him. Then I picks up a flash gent with a little, innercent girl, and they'll get into the cab. 'Straight home, cabby,' he'll cry, 'we've missed the train.' That'll mean that I'm to go in the opposite direction where there ain't no houses, and if I hear screamin' I never listens.

Then I get home about three; there's a big row, but I get a tenner for the job.' 'Well, d.i.c.k,' says Joe, who is a good-hearted sort of chap, 'if I thought anything of that kind was going on in my cab, a hundred wouldn't buy me, but I'd take the horse-whip to him.' 'Shure,' says I, 'I would put the blackguard in the sea, and drown him just.' 'Ha, ha,'

laughs d.i.c.k, 'it wouldn't do for us all to be so soft, else half of us would starve. Now I'll just tell you chaps how I serve my customers. I just go round to Wallace's and get the best turn-out he has, and I guess we'll cut a dash.' Then he got in his cab and drove away. Neither me nor Joe envied him his tenner. Next day d.i.c.k came up to the stand looking terrible black. He cussed and swore, and looked as if he'd had a big drop too much. 'Have a good time last night,' says I to him, civil like. 'No, blast yer; go to--' he says. I never spoke no more, but after a bit he comes up to me and says--'Terry, those beggars had me last night; it was a put-up job.' 'Go on,' says I, 'the infernal scoundrels, how did they do it?' He swore a terrible lot, and 'twixt his swears I made out that he had hired a turn-out that cost him thirty bob, and drove quietly to St. Kilda, smiling all the way. He waits till nearly eleven, and refused two good fares, then goes to the Pier Hotel, and asks if there is a letter for him. The barman hands him one, and he was so pleased he called for drinks all round and spent about three bob that way. Then he says good-night, goes to a lamp-post to read his letter, which said something about swindlers being swindled, and policy being the greatest honesty, or something like that. He was out till nearly three, and never earned a bob. Joe had come up behind, and heard the yarn, and we both let out a yell. d.i.c.k he swore awful, and jumped on his cab and drove away. He got fined for being drunk on his cab that night.

And now it's all the joke on the ranks. 'Going St. Kilda, d.i.c.k'--'Any more ten-pound jobs, d.i.c.k,' and he does get blooming wild." Here Terence roared again, and this time the boys joined in.

"Have another drink, Terence. You told that well," said Reg.

"But it was your honours that did it, I know."

"Yes, we did it, Terence," answered Hal, "d.i.c.k had us and we returned the compliment, and here's a tenner for your trouble. Now you had better go back to Melbourne by to-day's express and keep your eye on d.i.c.k. Our address will be Brisbane."

"Right, your honours. I'm off."

"I have been looking through the "Herald," said Reg, when they were alone, "and I find there are two companies trading between here and Brisbane, the Howard Smith line and the A.U.S.N. Company; one has a boat leaving to-day at twelve, the other at two."

"That's good. We will have a look at the boats and see which we like best, and as there is no time to be lost, let us start at once."

The _Buninyong_, of the Howard Smith line, and the _Maranoa_, of the rival company, were both examined, and the preference given to the former.

"Sydney seems a delightful place. I am almost loth to leave it so soon,"

said Reg.

"We'll have plenty of time when we have caught our man," said Hal. "I'll now go to the Tasmanian Company's offices and hear all about the rescue."

There he learnt the captain's report, that he picked up Wyckliffe and four men off a raft, about six hours from Hobart. The rescued reported they had been capsized while trying to fetch Maria Island.

At twelve o'clock the _Buninyong_, with a full pa.s.senger list including the boys, sailed for Brisbane.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE GIRLS.

Had Reg and Hal not been in such a great hurry when they landed at Sydney, they might have noticed a young lady not unlike May standing on the wharf scanning the pa.s.sengers very closely. When she caught sight of the Goodchilds, she jumped on board and embraced both May and her father.

"I have had your wires, May, and all arrangements are made," she said, with an air of decision.

"Have you seen him, Hil?"

"Yes, he went to Brisbane two days ago. We will follow him, May," she answered, quietly; then, turning to Goody, said, "you will, of course, stay at the 'Grosvenor', uncle."

"Well, I don't know, Hilda. What is May going to do?"

"I have my carriage here. You had better come with us and send your luggage on to the hotel," said she, in her decisive way, as if she were accustomed to help people make up their minds.

"As you please," said Goody, with a sigh, resigning himself to the inevitable.

All three stepped into Hilda's conveyance, and were rapidly driven in the direction of Potts' Point and set down at the door of a handsome mansion surrounded by extensive grounds that overlooked the bay.

"Now, uncle, you must excuse us for a little while, as we have a lot to talk about," said Hil, leading May away to her own room, and leaving Goody to amuse himself in the drawing-room.