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So, without asking leave of anyone, he left Port Albert and its shipping "to the sweet little cherub that sits up aloft, and takes care of the life of Poor Jack," and went in his boat to Yanakie Landing. Mrs. Bennison lent him a pony, and told him to steer for two bald hills on the Hoddle Ranges; he could not see the hills for the fog, and kept too much to port, but at last he found a track.
The growls came in various undertones from the Committee. "What foreman? Hoddle?" The boss was ready to fight for his subalterns. "No! Old Hoddle's all right," said Gilby. "It's that young smart aleck, Tony Perrotte." "Tony Perrotte!" Mr. Maitland's voice was troubled and uncertain. "Tony Perrotte! Why, you don't mean to tell me that Perrotte is not a good man.
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