‘That’s just what I was coming to,’ said Mr. Levison, with still slower and more inexpressive enunciation if possible. ‘If you’ll be said by me, you’ll buy the cows; they’re about half and half. There’s till next April to take delivery of ’em, and you can have ’em at what I bought ’em at―twelve shillings, big and little.’ ‘But the money?’ said Ernest. ‘I have only what will pay my expenses for six months.’ ‘I’ll take your bill at twelve months, with interest added,’ said the peripatetic philanthropist. ‘You write to old Frankston and tell him so, and perhaps I’ll renew if no rain comes. Tell him it’s Levison’s advice to you to make this bargain. He knows what that means. And my way of looking at things tells me that it’s a deal more likely than not, that within five years, if you take these cows and breed up, the rain will come, cattle will rise, and you’ll have nearer ten thousand head of cattle on Rainbar than five. I shall camp at that lake of yours to-night if I’ve luck. Good-bye, till we meet again. You buy those “circle dot” cows, and don’t you waste your money.’ So departed Mr. Levison, rather incongruously inculcating economy and a heavy purchase of stock all in the same breath. Ernest lost no time in writing to Paul Frankston to inform him of the offer of his very practical friend with reference to the store cattle, requesting his advice thereon. By return of post he received the following missive:― Morahmee, _20th January 18―_. My dear Boy―Have your letter, and glad to see you are regularly embarked in squatting life, and keep going at Rainbar in spite of bad times and bad weather. Seasons awfully uncertain in Australia; always were ever since I was a boy, and I don’t expect them to alter much. People make money here in spite of them, and so will you if you keep a good look-out. As to the store cattle, there’s dirty weather ahead―the bank barometer falling and no rain. But for all that, Levison is a man to be backed. He is never far out. If he says cattle will rise, they will rise. I never knew him wrong yet. Where _he_ has bought you can’t go wrong in following his lead. He has taken a fancy to you, and wishes to put you on for a good thing. I never do things by halves myself. So I advise you to take his offer. Go or send for the cattle when he takes delivery, and trust to Providence to send rain and a market. When the bill falls due we must arrange to pay or renew. Don’t overdraw in other ways more than you can help, if you will let me give you my opinion. Crampton tells me your orders find their way down in spite of the dry weather. Spend _nothing_, never mind about its being necessary. That’s the safe thing in squatting.