An Outback Marriage

For a few seconds no one spoke. Carew and Gordon stared at the

signature, and then looked at each other. The newly-found Considine

looked at his autograph in a critical way, as if not quite sure he

had spelled it right, and then stood up, handing the deed to Gordon.

"There y'are," he said. "There's my right, title and intrust in

all this here block of land, and all the stock what's on it; and

if you're ever short of a man to look after the place in the wet

season I'll take the job. I might be glad of it."

"I think it's quite likely you won't want any job from me," said

Charlie. "I'll be asking you for a job yet. Are you sure that's

your right name? What was your father?"

"My name? O' course it's my name. My father was billiard-marker at

Casey's Hotel, Dandaloo," said the old man with conscious pride.

"A swell he had been, but the boose done him up, like many a better

man. He used to write to people over in England for money, but they

never giv him any."

"Where did he write to?" asked Carew, looking at the uncouth figure

with intense interest. "Do you know what people he wrote to?"

"Yairs. He wrote to William Considine. That was his father's name.

His father never sent any money, though. Told him to go to hell,

I reckon."

"What was your father's name?"

"William Patrick Considine."

Carew dashed out to his saddle, hurriedly unstrapped a valise, and

brought in a small packet of papers.

"Here you are," he said, opening one, and showing it to Gordon.

"Those are the names, Patrick Henry Considine, son of William Patrick

Considine. Entitled under his grandfather's will--by Jove, do you

know there's a lot of money waiting for you in England?"

"There's what?"

"A lot of money left you. In England. Any amount of it. If you are

the right man, you're rich, don't you know. Quite a wealthy man."

"How much money d'you say, Mister?"

"Oh, a great deal. Thousands and thousands. Your grandfather left

it. No one knew for certain where you were, or if you were alive."

"I'm alive all right, I believe," said Considine, staring hard at

them. "But look, Mister--you aren't trying to take the loan of me?

Is this straight?"

"Yes, it's straight," said Charlie. "You'll have to go to England

to make your claim good, I expect. It's straight enough. That's

what brought Mr. Carew out here, to try and find you."

For some time the bushman smoked in silence, looking at each man

in turn, perhaps expecting them to laugh. He muttered once or twice

to himself under his breath. Then he turned on Gordon again.

"Now, look here, Mr. Gordon, is this square? Because, if it ain't,

it'll be a poor joke for some of you!"