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In about twenty minutes Jacker Mack and a couple of subordinates brought up a herd gathered from the hill on the left bank of the creek; Peterson came soon after with a good mob from the right, and Dolf Belman and another followed with a score or so from about the houses. But still Butts had not been captured. 'You fellers take 'em on slowly, said Moonlighter.
Probably Cow Flat was so called because nobody had ever seen anything remotely resembling a cow anywhere in the vicinity; consequently goats were hold in high esteem, for ten goats can live and prosper where one cow would die of hunger and melancholy in a month. Jacker Mack, Peterson, and Parrot Cann had recognised their billies in the heard, but Butts was still missing.
His face had the grey tinge of wrath, and his lips were set firm on a grim determination. He walked to a form well up in front, and seated himself, placing his big felt hat on the floor, but retaining his grip on the whip hanging between his knees. Jacker Mack kicked Dick excitedly. 'Harry Hardy! he said.
I'm goin' to tell all that to Downy, but it's somethin' jist as p'tickler about a reef we found. 'A reef? Nonsense, Dick. How could you find a reef? 'By diggin' fer it, I s'pose. What'd you think if I said we fellers' ye got a mine a really mine me an' Jacker Mack, an' Ted McKnight, an' Billy Peterson, an' Phil Doon? What'd you say, eh?
Then for two minutes she stood and addressed them through the darkness in strident tones and language that would have shocked an old drover or a railway ganger. 'Bushrangin' ain't up to much, whimpered Ted, rubbing himself with both hands. 'It's rot! said Jacker fiercely. Peterson and Doon muttered words of approval, and Dick felt that four pairs of reproachful eyes were turned upon him.
'Then we'll go down some night, an' strip Amson's garden. Amson was a prominent resident of Cow Flat, and had nothing whatever to do with the goat raid, but the boyish sense of justice does not stoop to find distinctions. Jacker Mack had another string to his bow. 'They say Harry Hardy's comin' home this week, he said. 'No! cried Dick, much moved. 'Who says? 'Gable says. 'Pooh!
Going on his hands and knees under the thick odorous peppermint saplings, Jacker ran his head into a niche in the rock amongst climbing sarsaparilla, and remained so, like some strange geological specimen half embedded in the rock. Within, where his head was hidden, the darkness was impenetrable.
An infamous act of desertion like this would have brought down contempt upon the head of another, and have earned him some measure of personal chastisement; but Dick was a law unto himself. 'So long, you fellows, he said. 'Why, where yer goin'? grunted Jacker Mack. ''Cross to Harry Hardy. He's down by that ole white gum. 'Gosh! so he is. I say, we'll all go. 'No, you won't.
Jacker Mack was a strong boy and a fierce one, but strength and tricks availed him nothing against those powerful arms; in ten seconds he was in Ted's place, and the massive hand was dealing with him, heavily and with startling rapidity. 'Charge! shrieked Red Hand. But the gang was demoralized.
Jacker replied with a grunt of derisive and implacable bitterness, but the schoolmaster seemed much comforted by his apophthegm, and stood for several minutes surveying the back of McKnight's head, and wearing a benignant and thoughtful smile.
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