The Sweep Winner Part 22

"Lin Soo is his uncle!" said Glen.

"Yes. Why? Do you know him?"

"Not exactly, but I know of him. He keeps an infamous den in Lower George Street."

"I thought it was a tea shop," she said.

"To outward appearances, but inside it's an opium den, a gambling h.e.l.l, and worse," Glen replied.

"Worse!" she exclaimed enquiringly.

Glen did not care to pursue the subject and she asked no further questions.

No mention was made of Craig Bellshaw, and Glen left, not knowing she was intimate with the squatter. He promised to call again. She knew by his ready acceptance that she had made a favourable impression, and she was more pleased than she had been for many a day. She walked to the steamer with them, and when the boat left sat down on a seat at one side of the wharf. Why should she not have her share of happiness in life? It had been denied her so far. There had been riotous living, and much pleasure, but no peace, no contentment. It was all a struggle, and part of a game which she had been forced to play, but never cared for.

She walked slowly back to her house, thinking all the time, hoping, wishing as she had never wished before. If a man like Glen Leigh had come into her life years ago, how different everything would have been.

She felt she had great capacity for making a man she loved happy. She was in the prime of life, good-looking, robust, full of health and spirits, and she did not lack money. Why should she not find a fitting mate? A man who would condone the past, forget, or shut his eyes to it, and love her for herself. Glen Leigh was a man after her own heart, the stamp of man she had always admired. No matter what he thought of her, or whether they were merely acquaintances, she would never forget him.

She made a firm resolve to try and win him; she would exert all her powers to that end. She craved for the real love of a man to meet the love she knew she had to give. It would not be half-hearted love or cold surrender. She wanted the real thing, not a sham. She had had too much of shams; she was sick of them. She longed for honesty, not deception, pretence, lies. There was Craig Bellshaw. He must be made to understand that she desired to sever all connections with him. She would write and tell him so. If he insisted on seeing her for a personal explanation she supposed she must grant him an interview, but it would be the last; she vowed it.

Glen Leigh little knew the storm of feeling he had raised in Mrs.

Prevost. Had anyone told him he would have laughed at the idea. In answer to Jerry he said he thought Mrs. Prevost a very nice woman.

"Handsome, eh?" said Jerry.

"Yes, and she's a jolly good sort I should say."

"So she is. I wonder some fellow hasn't snapped her up long ago," Jerry answered.

"She's better as she is," said Glen.

"Not she. In her case I should say she ought to have a mate. She looks a woman who could make a man happy."

"There's no telling," declared Glen gloomily.

The Buckjumping Show was a huge success, and a large ground had been taken for it in Melbourne for a month, during which time the Caulfield and Melbourne Cups would be decided.

Glen was surprised when his share was calculated by Bill Bigs. It was far more than he had expected in his most sanguine moments. Jim Benny was given a bonus with which he was more than contented. Nearly all Jim's spare time was spent with Clara, who was in perfect health, and had developed into a very pretty woman. Her mind, however, was still a blank as regards everything before she came to Glen Leigh's hut. Glen thought some sudden shock might restore the lost memories. At the same time the effect might be serious. Probably it would be better for her peace to remain as she was. Glen's feelings towards her were difficult to a.n.a.lyse. He knew by the way she always greeted him that she regarded him as a father. At first he thought he loved her, but gradually this feeling lessened, and he knew it was pity and compa.s.sion that had grown in him, not love. He was more solicitous towards her than he had ever been, spoke kindly, looked after her every comfort, and she trusted and idolised him--but not as a lover.

With Jim it was different. He was younger than Glen, and there was no doubt about his affection for her. She treated him differently from Glen, was more reserved, never kissed him; she shrank away when he came too near, and was nervous in his presence.

Jim noticed all this and misunderstood. He thought her love was all for Glen Leigh, and this embittered him. He had not the strength of character of the elder man, could not stand trials so well, was soon cast down and dispirited. He had seen her kiss Glen when they met--she always did--and yet when he came near her she shrank away.

Glen seemed to get the best out of life, while he, Jim, had hardly anything to look forward to.

He forgot what Glen had done for him. A growing jealousy rose against his comrade; such feelings were easily roused in him.

"I must know what he means, what she means," said Jim to himself. "It's torturing me. I can't stand it--I won't."

CHAPTER XVIII

A QUESTION OF JOCKEYS

Craig Bellshaw's life at Mintaro was a burden to him; if his time had not been occupied there is no telling what might have happened. During the day he was constantly out of doors, but at night, his lonely dinner ended, he sat down and brooded. There were many actions in his life that would not bear the searchlight. He did not regret them; he was hardened.

What he missed was the presence of a woman. It could not be called companionship, because he never gave his friendship fully to anyone. It would soon be time for him to go to Sydney and see his horses do their work for the big Victorian Meeting. He had great hopes of Barellan winning the Melbourne Cup, and thought Flash had a chance in the Caulfield Race. He heard from his trainer regularly, and the reports were favourable. Letters for Mintaro were left at Boonara by the mail coach which came twice a week.

He read the account of the buckjumping exhibition, and begrudged Bill Bigs and Glen Leigh their success. They were his horses; why had he not thought of such a show and run it himself? He always begrudged fortune's favours to others.

He had been uneasy ever since he found the piece of paper with Lin Soo written on it pushed under his door. He tried to persuade himself it meant nothing, but he knew different. It was a warning and he wondered how much Glen Leigh knew. Then there was Garry Backham. He must see him before he went to Sydney and find out how the land lay in that quarter.

His man brought the post-bag and placed it on the table. Craig unlocked it and took out the letters and papers. He opened one from Ivor Hadwin, who gave favourable accounts of the progress of all his horses, and prophesied a successful campaign in Victoria. Barellan was specially mentioned. No horse could be doing better; he had come on by leaps and bounds and was at least ten pounds better than when he ran at Randwick.

"If he is he'll win the Cup," said Craig.

He placed the letter on one side to answer; the post-bag had to be at Boonara next day. There were several bills, some circulars, newspapers, and one or two packages. A letter, directed in a lady's hand, claimed his attention. He knew the writing; it was from Mrs. Prevost.

"She wants more money, I suppose," he muttered. "She'll have to want.

I've been too openhanded with her, and she's not a bit grateful. Women never are."

As he read the letter his face became gloomy: it was not pleasant to look at. The contents angered him. She expressed her intention of severing all connection with him, said she had no desire to see him again, and much more to the same effect.

Craig Bellshaw was in a rage. He considered Mrs. Prevost a useful adjunct to his visits to Sydney. There was always a house to go to, where he could be sure of comfort, and the presence of a woman who was good to look upon; and now she coolly said she had no desire to see him again. There were no words of apology or respect. She repudiated the bargain, or what he considered the bargain, between them. There must be some solid reason for it, and the only one he could think of was another man. She would find he was not to be treated in this cavalier fashion.

Some men might stand it; he would not.

He made up his mind to go to Sydney at once. There were plenty of hands at Mintaro, and his new overseer would look to things. He announced his intention of going next day.

He started in the early morning, arriving at Boonara about eleven o'clock; from there he would take the coach to Bourke. He went to Garry Backham's, and asked him if there was anything he could do for him in Sydney.

"He's mighty polite," thought Garry, "there's some mischief afoot."

They talked for some time, and Craig said. "About the money I lent you to buy this place, I've thought it over; you're welcome to it. You were always reliable when you were with me and did your work well."

"He's changed his tune," thought Garry.

"You can consider yourself free of that debt," said Craig.

"I thought you'd come round to my way of thinking," replied Garry, who knew well enough why he had suddenly become generous.

"It was always my intention to make you a present of it," Craig declared.

"Then why didn't you do it at first?"

"Because I wished to see what sort of man you were, and how you'd take it."

"Glen Leigh and Bill Bigs have done well in Sydney with the show," said Garry.