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Two weeks had passed since Sheila had left Townsville with Grainger and the hard-riding old Warden and the swarthy-faced Lamington and his savage-eyed, half-civilised troopers.
"It's dangerous country, Grainger," the police officer said as he bade them goodbye. "There are any amount of niggers all around, so you will need to be careful about your fire at night. Shift your camp a good half mile after you have lit your fire and had supper." Grainger smiled. "I've been through the mill, Lamington.
Malabar Point at the end of the drive, the extreme end of the island upon which Bombay is built, is the government house, the residence of the Lord Lamington, who represents King Edward VII. in this beautiful city. It is a series of bungalows, with large, cool rooms and deep verandas, shaded by immense trees and luxurious vines, and has accommodations altogether for about 100 people.
But I don't think we shall have any trouble unless you head them off and send Sandy and his friends down on to us." "I do mean to head them off, and drive them down from the range into the spinifex country about thirty miles from here, when I can round them up," said Lamington softly, as if he were speaking of driving game. "Sorry you won't be with me to see the fun.
"I won't make him feel cross, I assure you, Mr. Grainger." "Then it's decided." Sub-Inspector Lamington, of the Native Police, is also coming with us. He's off on a wild goose or rather, a wild nigger chase after Sandy and Daylight and their myall friends.
Tell that nigger of yours to take that infernal bundle away and keep it out of sight, or, by heavens, you and I will quarrel." Lamington, gentleman at heart, apologised: "I am a beast, Grainger. I didn't think of Miss Carolan." When Sheila awakened she had to bid Dick Scott goodbye, for Lamington was taking him back to Chinkie's Flat. "Goodbye, Miss Caroline.
He frequently rode over to Lamington to see me, and as there are necessarily many there who suspect, if they do not know, my secret, my husband would be more likely to be surprised in a lonely house there, than he would be in the city, where he can always leave or enter our abode by the passage into a back street unseen by any."
First came four people the white-bearded Charteris with Myra, and Grainger with Sheila; after them a sergeant and six white police, and ten Native Police with carbines on thighs, and then Dick Scott and dark-faced Inspector Lamington; behind followed a troop of spare horses.
Then you follow me. "How many are there, Jacky?" "'Bout twenty, boss perhaps thirty. And I think it that some feller runaway policeman with them Sandy or Daylight, I beleeb." "What makes you think that?" said Grainger, instantly remembering that Lamington had said that he meant to try and head off Sandy and his myalls down into the spinifex country. "Come here, boss."
You could see he was as restless as a hen. When we went back to the hall he announced that he must get on the road, and commandeered Miss Lamington to help him find his bicycle. It appeared he was staying at an inn a dozen miles off for a couple of days' fishing, and the news somehow made me like him better.
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