‘All right,’ said his master. ‘I had to lift him myself this morning, and very hard work I had to get him up. But if it rains within the next two months you’ll have him kicking up his heels like a colt.’ ‘Are you going to walk to Wood-duck Lagoon, sir?’ inquired Jack respectfully. ‘Yes, I am, and no great matter either,’ returned the exceptionally wiry capitalist. ‘_I’m_ right enough; don’t you trouble about me. What you and young Banks have to look out for is, to keep all these Circle Dot cattle well within bounds till the weather breaks, and then you can’t go wrong, and I look upon Mr. Neuchamp’s pile as made. I’ve taken to him, more than a bit. Besides, he’s got another good back, though he don’t know it. I’ve bought out the Freeman’s, stock, lock, and barrel, so their cattle won’t bother you any more.’ Here Mr. Windsor gave a leap off the ground, and cast his cabbage-tree hat violently from his curly brown locks in another direction. ‘Yes, I’ve bought ’em pretty right; they didn’t know me, or they’d have stuck it on—bought ’em _for a friend_! So they’ll have the pleasure of seeing you and Banks branding the increase next year, just as they are giving up possession; and the calves will be worth more then than I paid for the cows yesterday. But I might be mistaken, you know.’ ‘It would be for the first time; so they all used to say at Boocalthra,’ answered Jack. ‘_You_ were there, then?’ said Mr. Levison, bending his extremely discriminating gaze upon the bronzed, resolute face. ‘_Now_ I remember your brand; you were the curly-headed boy that used to ride the colts for the horse-breaker. Glad you turned out steady. I didn’t expect it. Stick to Rainbar; now you’re in a good place, and you’ll do well. But whatever you do, if you walk your feet off, don’t let these Circle Dot cows and heifers get out of bounds till the rain comes. If you are regularly beat, go down to Mingadee; there’s a hundred and fifty stock horses there, spelling for next winter’s work, and Cottonbush will have my orders to let you have half a dozen. I know what fresh cattle are in a season like this. Well, good-bye, Jack the Devil; I remember all about you now.’ Mr. Windsor grinned, yet preserved an air of diffidence. ‘Take care of the old horse, and don’t you lend that saddle to no one!’ With these parting words tending to thrift, in curious contradistinction to the tenor of his action at Rainbar, Mr. Levison proceeded to take a hurried leave of his entertainer. ‘I’ve just been talking to that native chap of yours,’ he said, ‘about my old horse. He wants a bit of looking after now, but you’d be surprised to see what style he has when he’s in good fettle. Wonderful horse on a camp. Best cutting-out horse, this day, on the river. Pulls rather hard, that’s the worst of him.’