Sheilah McLeod Part 16

Then, as if to justify himself, he continued, 'I do it on principle.'

'Very good--then, on principle, I refuse to receive even a penny from you.'

He looked at me in surprise.

'You won't take the five hundred pounds?'

'Not one halfpenny,' I answered; 'I would not if I were dying. Good day.'

'You are very foolish. But you will change your mind in a few hours; so may I. Good day.'

Without more ado I left him and strode angrily back to the township.

Surely no man ever had a more pig-headed, unnatural father?

That evening, a few minutes before eight o'clock, I left the hotel and strode off down the path by the creek to the place where I had arranged to meet Colin. Bitterly as I hated him, and angry as I was over the blow he had dealt me, I was not at all reconciled to the notion of fighting him. My position was already sufficiently precarious without my endeavouring to make it more so.

The moon was up, and it was a glorious night. In the little open s.p.a.ce where I sat down to wait, it was almost as bright as day. In a gum to the back of me a mopoke was hooting dolefully, and to my right, among the bracken, the river ran sluggishly along, the moonlight touching it like silver. It was the beginning of summer, and there was still sufficient water coming down from the hills to make a decent stream.

Almost punctually at eight o'clock Colin put in an appearance, and came across the open towards me.

'I was half afraid I might keep you waiting,' he said, as he took off his coat and threw it on the ground.

'You're punctual, I think,' I answered, rising. 'But look here, McLeod, I'm not going to fight you after all. I can't do it!'

'Turning c.o.c.ktail again, are you?' he said coldly. 'Do you want me to find your courage for you in the same fashion as this morning?'

'Don't push me too far,' I said, 'or G.o.d alone knows what I may not do.

I'm a bad man to cross, as you may have heard.'

'Your reputation is only too well known to me,' he answered. 'Are you going to stand up or not?'

'Since you wish it so much,' I said wearily, seeing that further argument was useless.

'I thought you would hear reason,' he said, and took up his position.

We faced each other, and he led off with a blow that caught me on the chin. That roused my blood, and there and then I let him have it. He was not a bad boxer, and by no means deficient in courage, but he was like a baby in my hands. I can say that safely without fear of bragging. Three times in succession I sent him down to measure his length upon the ground. And each time he got up and faced me again. At last I could stand it no longer.

'That's enough,' I cried. 'Good G.o.d, man, you don't know what you're doing! If I go on I shall murder you.'

'We'll go on then till you do,' he said, getting up for the fourth time and preparing to renew the battle. But just as he did so a loud voice behind us called 'Stop!'

It was old McLeod.

'And pray what does this mean?' he cried, as he came between us. 'James Heggarstone, I am ashamed of ye. Colin, surely ye must have taken leave of your senses.'

Then Colin gave me another sample of his curious character.

'You must not blame Heggarstone,' says he. 'I a.s.sure you it was all my fault. I challenged him, and when he refused to fight I struck him.'

I could not let him take all the blame in this fashion, so I was just going to chip in when old McLeod stopped me by holding up his hand.

'I don't care whose fault it is. Ye are both to blame. I've seen it coming on day by day, and I can tell ye both it has distressed me beyond measure. I'll have no more of it, remember. Ye'll shake hands, lads, here now, and be good friends for the future, or ye'll both quarrel with me.'

'I've no objection at all,' I said, holding out my hand.

'Nor I,' says Colin, doing the same.

And then and there we shook hands, and that was the last of my enmity with Colin McLeod.

CHAPTER VII

I PROPOSE TO SHEILAH

Next morning, as soon after breakfast as was fit and proper, I set off to inquire after Sheilah. I found her looking very pale and jaded, poor girl; and no wonder, for the business of setting the broken limb had been a painful one.

'Sit down,' she said, pointing to a chair by her sofa. 'I want to have a good talk with you. Jim, I hear you were fighting with Colin last night.'

I hung my head and did not answer.

'What you two should have to fight about I'm sure I don't know,' she went on. 'But, remember, I'll have no more of it. If I thought you were to blame I should be very angry with you. But Colin has already been here and cleared you of everything. Poor Colin!'

'I'm sorry I ever laid my hand upon him,' I said. 'He's a better man than I am by a good deal.'

'I'm not so sure of that, Jim,' she said, holding out her little hand to me; 'but, remember, on no account are you two to be anything but the very best of friends for the future. And now we'll forget all about it.

I want to talk to you about another matter.'

'What is that, Sheilah?'

'About yourself. What do you intend to do? You must not--and, indeed, you cannot--go on living here without employment. Have you thought of looking for anything?'

'I have. And what's more I have made inquiries all round, but for the life of me I can hear of nothing. I'm no good for anything but bush work, as you know, or I might apply for the billet there is vacant in the bank up yonder. No, Sheilah! I'm afraid I shall have to clear out and look for work elsewhere. There's a drover, Billy Green of Bourke, going up North as far as the Flinders River for a mob of fat cattle next week. He might take me on.'

'No! no! Jim, you're fit for something better than that,' she answered.

'Why not stay here and take a place for yourself. With your knowledge of cattle, backed up by patience and hard work, you might make a very good thing of it in time.'

'There's one serious drawback to that, Sheilah, and that is the fact that I haven't got the money. If I had, I admit I might be able to do something in a small way. But as I haven't, well, you must see for yourself it's impossible.'

'It's not so impossible as you imagine, old friend,' said Sheilah, with a smile.

'What do you mean?' I asked, surprised at the confident way in which she spoke. 'Has anyone told you of the money I refused to take from my father yesterday?'

'You refused to take money from your own father? Oh, Jim, that was foolish of you. How much did he offer you?'

'Five hundred pounds,' I answered. 'I almost wish now I had put my pride in my pocket and accepted it. It would have come in very handily, wouldn't it?'