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Bruce, Mary Grant, 1878-1958

"Mates at Billabong"

So it wasn't really his fault."
"He must have known you would be coming through that timber by yourself
in the dark."
"Oh, most likely he reckoned I'd have you with me by that time. He
doesn't understand very well, does he? He didn't mean any harm, Jim."
"I don't know what he meant," Jim said, angrily. "But I know what he
did--and what he'd have been responsible for if Lal Chunder hadn't
happened along in the nick of time. Great overgrown calf! Upon my word,
when I see him--"
"Oh, don't have a row, Jim," Norah pleaded. "He's a guest."
"Guest be hanged! Do you mean to say that's excuse for behaving like a
cad?"
"Ah, he wouldn't mean to. Don't tell him about--about Lal Chunder--and
the man."
"Not tell him?" Jim exclaimed.
"Well, not to-night, anyhow. Promise me you won't have a row
to-night--and if you tackle him when you get home there will be a row.
Wait until Dad comes home." finished Norah, a little wearily.
Behind her, Wally leaned across to his chum. They pulled back a little.
"I say--don't worry her, old man," Wally said. "I guess she's had a bit
of a shock--let's try and keep her mind off it. Do what she asks." And
Jim nodded.
"All right, old woman," he said, coming alongside again. "I won't slay
him to-night--don't bother your little head.


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