The Sweep Winner Part 14

"Well, it's this way. They're busy. They've got a scheme in hand that I suggested, and I think it's just the thing for 'em and will pay well,"

and he explained about the buckjumping exhibition.

"By Jove, that's a capital idea," said Jerry, who saw the possibilities at once.

"You might be able to give it a lift," suggested Bill cautiously.

"Probably. I will if I can, but I must hear more about it," Jerry answered.

"Come in to-night, and I'll introduce you to Glen Leigh. He's the chap, a wonderful man, as straight as a die, big, strong, a rough customer, but with the heart of a child when anything appeals to his better nature. Why he went on the fence the Lord only knows. I remember him arriving in Boonara. It caused quite a sensation. No one could make him out then, and no one made him out before he left. A mystery man, that's what he is. Don't forget to-night. I'll have a decent dinner for you, and a bottle of the right stuff, and you can talk in my room to your heart's content."

"That will suit me," said Jerry as he went out.

"He's a good sort," thought Bill. "He ought to be able to boom the show when it starts."

Glen Leigh was averse to talking with strangers, but Bill persuaded him to meet Jerry Makes.h.i.+ft.

"It's the fellow who draws those funny things that catch the eye on the front page of 'The Sketch.' They're the cleverest things out, and 'The Sketch' is the best paper of its kind in Australia. It goes all over the place. It even got as far as Boonara," said Bill.

"And I've had many a copy in my hut," answered Glen. "I don't mind meeting a man like that. He's out of the common. He can teach you something."

"That's settled," said Bill. "He'll be here at seven, and mind you pitch it him strong about the show. He'll ask you about work on the fence.

Tell him what it's like; he'll appreciate it."

Jerry Makes.h.i.+ft was punctual. He loved a good dinner and he sniffed appreciatively as he came into the house. Jim Benny was away, so Glen went upstairs with his companion, and they did full justice to Bill's good things, which he laid himself out to supply.

Jerry at once saw that Glen Leigh was no ordinary man, and that he would have to be handled in anything but an orthodox fas.h.i.+on. With his usual skill in such matters he set to work to propitiate him, and succeeded so well that at the end of the dinner Glen was talking freely to him. He told him all about the glittering wire, of the awful loneliness of the life, the terrible droughts, the millions of rabbits, how they died in hundreds of thousands from lack of food, and their bones were piled up in great heaps. He told of the losses of sheep and cattle, how squatters were almost ruined, and had to borrow money to go on with. He pictured the thousands of square miles of desolate land without a blade of gra.s.s; then suddenly the rain fell in torrents and in twenty-four hours came the glorious change from baked brown to verdant glistening green which covered the earth like a brilliant carpet, dazzling the eyes, that had been accustomed to dead colours for months at a stretch.

Then he went on to describe the life on the fence, the men, their varied characters; some strange stories he told of crime and criminals that he heard when he was one of the keepers. His language was plain and simple so that every word hit home.

Jerry Makes.h.i.+ft listened with his eyes fixed intently on Glen Leigh's face. As he talked he seemed to forget where he was; he was back again in his old surroundings, in the hut, in Bill's shanty at Boonara. He stopped suddenly. There must be no mention of Clara Benny, the woman in the hut, or how they came to Sydney.

"I never heard such a thrilling, interesting, story before," said Jerry, who knew he had discovered a storehouse of fresh copy in Glen Leigh.

Apart from this Leigh had won his wayward, roving nature completely.

Here was a man after his own heart, a man who had seen much and done more, a worker at the hardest kind of work, who went grinding on in solitude with no word of encouragement from a living soul.

Glen Leigh had made a staunch friend. He did not think he had done anything, or said anything, out of the common. That was where he proved so attractive to Jerry. The practised journalist knew every word he heard was true, that no exaggeration was here. On the contrary the reality must have been ten times worse than it was described.

"Tell me about this buckjumping show Bigs mentioned," said Jerry.

Glen smiled.

"Bill's sanguine, too sanguine, about that."

"I don't think he is. There are great possibilities in it," Jerry answered.

"Maybe so, but it'll take a lot of working up."

"I'll do what I can for you," promised Jerry.

"You will! That's good of you. I reckon a few words from you, or a sketch from your pen, goes a long way with the public," replied Glen.

Jerry laughed. There was not an atom of conceit about him.

"I do my best to amuse the public. I fancy I manage it all right somehow, but heaven knows where the talent I possess comes from, for I never had much education. I'm what they call self-taught."

"Then you were a better teacher than hundreds of men who profess to know a heap of things," declared Glen.

"Perhaps so. A battle with the world when you're young is a good education in itself," replied Jerry.

Glen told him how "The Sketch," and Jerry's drawings, were to be found even on the fence and in Boonara.

"I've spent hours over 'em," he said. "The man who can make a keeper of the fence laugh deserves a big pension for life."

Jerry pulled "The Sketch" out of his pocket.

"That's the latest. Just off the press. I'll leave it you."

A paper fell on the floor. Jerry picked it up.

"Have you seen this?" he asked.

"What is it?"

"Tattersalls' Hundred Thousand Pound Sweep on the Melbourne Cup. You ought to try your luck in it," said Jerry.

CHAPTER XII

IN SEARCH OF HORSES

"I think I'll risk a pound," said Glen laughing.

"A hundred thousand pound sweep is not bad, and the winner takes about a fourth of it," Jerry answered.

"Twenty-five thousand. That would do me all right. No occasion for more work. I'd buy a nice little property and be comfortable for the remainder of my life," said Glen.

They parted in a very cordial manner. It was not often Glen let himself go like this, but he liked Jerry, and when he was fond of a man he was not slow to show it.

Glen went West next day and forgot all about the ticket, but there was plenty of time as the sweep did not close for several weeks.

He went on a purchasing expedition, to buy horses for the show, while Bill Bigs and Jim Benny were preparing the way in Sydney for an opening in the exhibition building, which had already been secured. Jim had no desire to go into the Boonara district again after what had happened.

There was no telling what rumours might be about. As a matter of fact Garry Backham was sorry he had thrown out a hint to Craig Bellshaw. He might be inclined to follow it up.

Garry was very much surprised one morning when Glen Leigh walked into his place and bade him the time of day as though he had seen him a few hours before. Leigh was a cool hand and never fl.u.s.tered, except on special occasions, when he knew he had been put upon, or someone tried to bounce him. When he flared up there were ructions, as more than one man on the fence had found out during his time there.

"You're about the last man I expected to see in Boonara," said Garry.