Jim Dennis turned round and saw his son leading Neptune out of his box, and the doctor's dog following at his heels.
The horse seemed to place implicit confidence in his young guide, and walked sedately and quietly.
'You would never think Neptune had such a deuce of a temper to look at him now,' said Jim.
CHAPTER XIII
SPECULATION
Never had there been such excitement over the Swamp Creek Cup. The stake was good, as country stakes go, and in addition to this a splendid entry had been obtained, and Dr Tom prophesied that at least fourteen or fifteen runners would face him when he held the flag, for in addition to being secretary, stake holder and general manager, the doctor was also the starter.
It spoke well for his reputation for fairness that he gave universal satisfaction in these various departments, and had he been able to get back from the starting post in time, he would undoubtedly have been appointed judge.
The local bookmaker at Swamp Creek had already commenced operations, and a horse from Bourke named First Class was favourite. This worthy penciller owned the Gum Tree Hotel, and his name was Aaron Hyam. He was of the persuasion indicated by his Christian name, and as his eldest son and clerk was called Moses, there was no reason to doubt it when he said if ever he had a daughter, or rather his wife had, he should call her Rachel.
Aaron Hyam was a well-to-do man. Old Ned Glenn, the coach driver, said Aaron had made his money mainly through his good offices, because he invariably persuaded passengers to stop at the Gum Tree Hotel.
'The money I have put into that man's pocket would keep me comfortably for life,' he growled; 'and the mean son of Jerusalem has never had the decency to tip me more than a fiver.'
Aaron Hyam's hotel was the resort of the Swamp Creek folk and the whole of the better-class people for many miles around. It was quite a different place from Potter's Shanty, and for a country hotel was respectably kept even in those rough and often lawless times.
The astute Aaron worked his cards well and was in good odour even with such men as Dalton's gang. He likewise kept well in with the police, and Sergeant Machinson was a supporter of his.
A fortnight before the race for the Swamp Creek Cup, two or three bookmakers from Bathurst, Bourke and Orange arrived in the place and put up at Hyam's hotel.
Aaron would have preferred to have the manipulating of the market to himself, but as he could not very well do this, he had to remain contented with fleecing the visitors to his hotel as best he might.
One of these bookmakers was a friend of the owner of First Class, and he remonstrated with Aaron for making that animal favourite.
'He's never done much, only won a bit of a handicap at Bathurst,' said Price James, the friend of the owner. 'What do you make him favourite for?'
'That's my business,' said Aaron. 'If you care to lay longer odds, do so. Four to one is quite enough for me to lay against a horse like First Class amongst our lot. Why, his name gives him away at once! Had you called him Third Class, or No Class, it would have been different, but First Class – well, four to one is a very fair price against a horse with such a name.'
Rodney Shaw had two horses entered, both by Seahorse. They were named Seaweed and Distant Shore, and he fancied one of them would win.
When Ben Madsley heard from Jim Dennis that he was going to let his son Willie ride Neptune he laughed, and thought to himself, —
'I'll frighten the life out of the youngster before the flag falls.'
Rodney Shaw engaged the jockey to ride the better of his pair, and gave him his choice.
After a trial at Cudgegong, Ben Madsley selected Distant Shore as his mount, and the horse certainly galloped remarkably well.
No sooner did it become known that Jim Dennis had decided to put his son up, when long odds, comparatively speaking, were offered against Neptune in the betting.
Aaron Hyam thought this was a particularly good chance of making a bit without much risk, and when anyone wished to back Neptune he was always ready to lay a fair price.
In the meantime Jim Dennis was taking every care to have his horse fit and thoroughly wound up to go two miles. There was no pampering about Jim's method of treatment. Plenty of fresh air and exercise was his motto, and he trusted more to nature than art.
Neptune was given plenty of long, strong, steady work. He was not galloped at racing speed over a mile one day and then cantered for the next two or three days.
Willie Dennis rode the horse two-mile gallops at an even pace, and the work Neptune did suited him. As for Willie, he never felt happier or more elated than when he was on the back of his father's horse. Jim Dennis was proud of the lad, and gave him every encouragement. Day by day he saw the horse become better and better, and he knew that on the eventful date Neptune would be as hard as nails.
Rodney Shaw was very anxious to win the race, and now he had secured the services of Madsley he was sanguine of success. At the same time, he had a wholesome dread of Neptune, but consoled himself with the thought that Willie Dennis would hardly be able to do the horse justice.
Although Abe Dalton was regarded as an outlaw and a sort of social pariah, Dr Tom and the committee of the race club thought they could not exclude his entries from the races.
Dalton had done some desperate deeds in his time, but since his illness he seemed to have changed for the better.
'It will not last long. He is certain to break out again,' said Dr Tom, and he was right.
Abe Dalton entered a half-bred horse called The Captain for the cup, and two others in minor races.
No one knew much about The Captain, and when it came to handicapping him there was a difficulty.
The committee did the work of adjusting the weights, and great arguments they had over it at Dr Tom's house.
'If we accept Dalton's entries, as I take it we must, his horses shall be fairly weighted,' said the doctor.
'How can we weight a horse we know nothing about?' said the chairman. 'I say, give The Captain top weight, and if Abe Dalton does not like it let him do the other thing.'
'But The Captain is only a three-year-old. We ought not to give him top weight,' said the doctor.
'Some horses are better at three years than at any other age,' was the reply.
'The lowest weight is to be seven stone,' said Dr Tom; 'and I think if we say nine stone seven for top weight that will leave a sufficient margin.'
There was a lot of wrangling over the matter, but eventually First Class was weighted at nine stone seven, and The Captain put on the same mark with Rodney Shaw's horses and Neptune, who were all to carry eight stone seven.
These comprised the first division, and the tail end were in the seven-stone list.
Considering the committee knew very little about some of the horses entered, the general opinion was that their work was well done, and Aaron Hyam soon found his book would be profitable, as most of the runners were backed.
Despite his weight, First Class, who was a fair public performer in the district, was favourite. Abe Dalton's horse was well backed by several members of his gang, who came into Swamp Creek for the purpose.
Rodney Shaw backed both his horses, Distant Shore for the most money, but Neptune was almost out in the cold, as Jim Dennis was contented to run for the stake and a few modest wagers.
Dr Tom was most enthusiastic, and went about the Creek, followed by Baalim, with an air of importance, as though greatness had been suddenly and unexpectedly thrust upon him.
A night or two before the day of the races the crowd at the Gum Tree Hotel was large, and Aaron Hyam was doing a brisk business both at the bar and with his book.
Abe Dalton had ridden in from Barker's Creek, and as he was somewhat the worse for liquor there was every prospect of a row, for he was a quarrelsome fellow when in this state.
'I wish he'd go,' thought Aaron Hyam to himself, but dared not say anything to him.
Dalton was swaggering about his horse, and swore he would beat anything 'in these parts.' He offered to back The Captain against any other horse in the race for a hundred.
'Come, some of you fellows. Have you no pluck?' he said. 'He's only a three-year-old, but he'll beat the whole blooming lot.'
Dr Tom was in the bar and said quietly, —
'I'll bet you a score I name one to beat The Captain.'
'Bravo, doctor! Don't let him have it all his own way.'
'Done with you,' said Dalton. 'Name it.'
'Neptune,' said Dr Tom. 'How will that suit you?'
Abe Dalton gave a coarse laugh as he replied, —
'That will suit me very well. You've not much chance of landing that score with a little brat like young Dennis up.'
'You had better not let Jim Dennis hear you call his son a brat,' said Aaron Hyam.
'And why not? Who is Jim Dennis that I should be afraid of him?'
'He's more than a match for you and your crew,' said one.
'Is he?' sneered Dalton.
'He's proved it.'
'Has he?'
'Yes, and he'll prove it again if you ruffle him about his son.'
Abe Dalton swore, and looking at the speaker said, —
'I'll say what I like about Jim Dennis, or any other man; and as for that lad, why, he's only a half-caste. Ask black Sal if he isn't.'
Abe Dalton suddenly felt a pressure at the back of his neck, and he was swung round as though he had been on a pivot.
'You say that again, you cur, and I'll smash your face in!' said Dr Tom. 'If Jim Dennis heard you he'd screw your head off. Get away from me. You are not fit to touch!' and Dr Tom flung Dalton against the side of the bar, where he had to clutch at the railing to prevent himself falling.
There was a chorus of approval from those present, for Abe Dalton was hated as much as Dr Tom and Jim Dennis were liked.
A row seemed imminent, when Dr Tom said, —
'If he wants a fight he can have it, and I'm the man to take him on.'
Abe Dalton had no desire to tackle the doctor, and he growled, —
'If you hadn't saved my life I'd throttle you.'
Dr Tom laughed as he replied, —
'Don't let that trifle stand in your way. Come and try!'
'Let him alone, doctor. He's not worth troubling about,' whispered Aaron Hyam.
'I think you are right,' was the doctor's reply. Then, turning to Abe Dalton, he said, —
'I have offered to bet you twenty pounds Neptune beats The Captain, and I'll not go back on my word; but, mind you, if I win I will not touch your money. Aaron Hyam shall send it to the Bathurst Hospital,' and the doctor stalked out of the place amidst a volley of cheers.
CHAPTER XIV
THE HALF-CASTE'S WARNING
Jim Dennis heard of the row at the Gum Tree Hotel, and he also heard of the cause.
Ned Glenn, who happened to be there, told him all about it when he pulled up at Wanabeen.
'You'd have laughed, Jim, to see the funk Dalton was in,' he said. 'I never saw such a blooming coward in my life. He's not fit to sew a button on his own shirt. He cowed down before the doc like a whipped kangaroo dog, and darn me if he even so much as swore when Dr Tom asked him out to fight.'
'But what was it all about?' asked Jim.
Then the story came out, with embellishments by Ned Glenn.
'And Abe Dalton said that about my lad?' said Jim.
'Yes, he did; but I wish I had never mentioned it; you look so ferocious.'
'You wait until I come across Dalton. He'll have to answer for it.'
'Leave him alone,' said Ned. 'Treat him as Dr Tom treated him. Let him slide.'
'And so it was Dr Tom who stuck up for me and mine,' said Jim.
'Didn't I tell you so?' exclaimed Ned; 'and I can tell you a bit more. It's through Dr Tom you have not been molested by Dalton's gang for the past few years. Don't you know the yarn? Why, every man in the Creek knows it.'
Jim Dennis said, 'You're – sure – it's – true?' He caught up his few words, and they seemed to stumble over each other.
'Certain. Gospel. I had it from Abe himself. It happened this way: Dalton was dying, and Dr Tom was called in under false pretences. Some blackguard of the gang told him a woman and child were dying. You know what the doc is in such cases. Well, he went. He drove out in that wretched ramshackle of his and he pulled up at headquarters – Abe Dalton's.
'All he heard in answer to his call was groans. He went inside – he's told this to me himself. He don't often give much away in that way do the doc, but he opened his big heart and let me have it; and, by gosh, as you know, Jim, I'm a good receptacle for news.'
Jim nodded; he was taking it all in – and a lot more.
'So the doctor did what?'
Ungrammatical, but it is what Jim said, and I have to record it. We are not all born grammarians.
'The doc did this for you, Jim, but don't let on or split to him, or he'd knock the life out of me. The doc says to Abe Dalton. "You're going to die, old man, and your sins will provide the fuel to roast you." From all accounts – there is only one account, but the doc gets a bit confused when he's on this track – the fact of the matter is that Abe Dalton was in a very bad state. Tom – I mean the doc – pulled him through on one condition; that condition was that you were not to be molested, or your belongings, for ever more.'
'And Dr Tom compounded' – it was a big word for Jim – 'with a brute like Dalton? He saved his life at the price of shielding me from this gang? Wait until I see the doctor. I'll tackle him over this.'
'I'm going,' said Ned.
'About time,' answered Jim. 'I'll tell that story of yours to the little chap.'
'Don't. By gosh, Jim, don't,' said Ned, as he got to his horses' heads.
'I will. He ought to know black Sal, eh? Good-bye, Ned.'
Ned Glenn was on the box seat. He looked round at Jim, cracked the whip over his team's ears, and said, —
'I'll be back in time for the cup, my lad, and if Willie don't win on Neptune, s'help me, I'll chuck up the job.'
Jim Dennis's face cleared. The passing cloud had drifted. The gloom was dispelled at the mention of the child. What little things, what small words, what rightly-spoken words can change a man's heart.
'Bah!'
It was an emphatic expression. Jim Dennis spat on the verandah, he kicked a chair over, he swung the hammock round and went inside.
'Sal, do you know what they have said about you? Do you know what Abe Dalton says?'
She shuddered.
'Sal, you have been a mother to my lad.'
She remained silent.
'Do you know what that scoundrel Dalton says?'
'No.'
'That Willie is your child.'
A wail came from her, a piteous, heart-rending wail. She fell on her knees at his feet. She put her head on his boots, and she cried – cried many bitter tears. It was hard for her. She loved this white man, the man who had helped her, had come into her life, picked her up when she was dying, starving, her tongue cleaving to her mouth from thirst, on his verandah steps. He was not a missionary, he never talked to her about God – and the devil. He never frightened her with unknown terrors, he had been good and kind and gentle to her, and they said these things about him!
She thought not of herself, her whole thoughts were for him, the man who had protected her.
'Willie, Willie!' she wailed.
She wished he belonged to her, that he were flesh of her flesh. She craved for that child as mothers crave for their own.
'Get up, Sal. I thought you ought to know,' he said.
She lifted her face to his, and the tears were streaming down her half-black cheeks.
'You have been more mother to Willie than his own,' he said.
With the quick motion always noticeable in the black races, she rose to her feet. She went to the door.
He watched her with wondering eyes.
She came back, caught him by the arm and peered into his face.
'You have a bad friend,' she said.
'Only one,' said Jim, with a smile, as he patted her on the head much as he would a dog.
She glanced to the right and then to the left.
'Do you know his name?' she said.
'Yes, Abe Dalton.'
She laughed, and he started.
'Abe Dalton!' she exclaimed. 'No! what has he to do with you? My people can guard you from him. It is not Dalton; it is – ' she hesitated.
'Name him,' said Jim.
'Rodney Shaw!' she said.
He caught her by the wrist. He had met with treachery in black blood before, and he half mistrusted her.
'What do you mean?'
She looked frightened.
His grip tightened.
'What do you mean?' he asked again.
'I am afraid of him, afraid for you, for myself, for Willie,' she said in a low voice.
'Some of your legends,' he answered roughly. 'You blacks are all alike, half-brutal, half-beast.'
She shrank from him. They were the hardest words he had ever said to her.
'I'm sorry, Sal. I forgot myself. Tell me what you mean.'
'You know the legend of our tribe,' she said. 'No white man's blood shall mingle with our own unless calamity – I was taught that word – befall us.'
'Tell me the story, I forget it,' said Jim, as he sat down.
'This is as it was told to me by King Charlie, the chief of our tribe. He rose from his meal and stood up alone, solemn, in the moonlight.'
Sal had posed for this effect, and Jim took it all in – but it was a genuine pose, which is not the case with poseurs of the present day.
'He had eaten kangaroo and wallaby, and had supped well. You have seen King Charlie. True, he is only a black, but he has not the white man's curse upon him.'
Jim Dennis knew Sal in these moods, when the savage was uppermost.
'He looked upon me – I can see him now – a gaunt figure with the chain around his neck and the half-moon badge of his tribe on his chest. His hand was slowly raised, and he pointed at me. I will not give you the words of our tribe, it would be shame unto me, but I will tell you what he said.'
She raised herself to her full height.
'"You are cursed!" I can hear the words now. They hissed through my ears like a sound of running water at flood. "You are cursed!" Again he said it, and I shrank from him. What had I done, what fearful deed had I committed that I should be cursed?
'It was my mother's sin, not mine, and yet not hers. She was taken as a slave might be taken – and I was begot.
'"You are cursed!" It rang in my ears, it rings now. I can see the old king of our tribe rise up and cast me out.'
Jim Dennis watched her; he had never seen Sal in quite this mood before. She looked like a prophetess.
'And when he cast me out what did I reply? I defied him. I said the sin of my mother ought not to be visited upon me. I said that the white man's hand was strong in the land, and that he ought to suffer for his sins, not the poor "gin" that succumbed to him.
'I know King Charlie. He is a just man and good. He has dreamed the dream of our race, and he has wonderful visionary powers. But because he cursed me I left the camp and wandered forth. I was weary and I fell – you know where I fell – on the steps there, and you took me in as you would a little child, and saved me.
'Rodney Shaw is your enemy – he is mine,' she went on. 'He has tempted me and I have urged him on.'
'You have?' said Jim.
'Yes, and why? I have tried him and tested him. He desires me. He says I am to him more than all his stations and cattle. But why does he say that? He is your friend. And they say – Abe Dalton says – I am the mother of your child. They lie – and we know it.'
He tried to calm her.
'But where is the danger to me, Sal? You must be mistaken,' he said.
'Shaw hates you. There is something in him I do not understand,' said Sal.
'Never mind, my girl, we can get level with Rodney Shaw any day. I'm just commencing to find things out,' said Jim.
CHAPTER XV
A COWARDLY ASSAULT
At first Jim could hardly credit Sal's statement, but several things that had happened of late caused him to place credence in her words. Moreover, he knew she was truthful and would not deceive him.
He consulted Dr Tom, and that worthy man agreed with Sal; he had no special liking for Rodney Shaw. Constable Doonan had noticed Rodney Shaw coming from the direction of Barker's Creek on several occasions, and wondered what he had been doing in that quarter. Jim Dennis meant to have an explanation from the owner of Cudgegong; he did not mean to allow Rodney Shaw, or any other man, to insult Sal, or to prowl around his place during his absence. When the races were over he would have more time on his hands, and meant to inquire into these matters. He had no desire to quarrel with anyone before the cup was decided, because it might possibly put obstacles in the way of Neptune winning. The horse had been well tried, and had done a capital preparation, and Willie seemed to handle him with the skill of an old hand. The lad was confident of winning, and when he saw the new yellow jacket his father had purchased for him he was delighted.
This jacket had been specially made in Sydney, and arrived in charge of Ned Glenn. 'There you are, Willie,' said Ned, as he handed him the parcel. 'You will find something in there that will please you, I reckon.'
Jim Dennis, Sal and Ned Glenn eyed the lad admiringly when he put the yellow jacket on, and he looked well in it, quite a model of a youthful jockey.
The day before the races Jim Dennis with his son and Neptune rode over to Swamp Creek and put up at the Gum Tree Hotel.
There was quite a crowd around the place waiting for the horse to arrive, and the comments passed on the appearance of Neptune were on the whole favourable.
There was a lot of wagering at night at the hotel, and, the township being full of visitors, many strangers were present.
Jim Dennis had taken special precautions that his horse should be well looked after, and Dr Tom's black boy was left on guard with strict injunctions not to leave the door of the box on any pretext whatever. There he sat like a black sentinel with old Baalim at his side, and the pair kept off all inquiring visitors.
Jim Dennis knew that Abe Dalton was bent upon winning the race with The Captain, and would not stick at a trifle to accomplish the end. Most of the horses were backed, and there was every prospect of an exciting race. Willie was at Dr Tom's house and was to remain there for the night.
'He's better there than in the hotel. You never can tell what fellows like Dalton may get up to,' said the doctor, as he and Jim went round to the Gum Tree to see how the wagering was going.
The place was packed, and Aaron Hyam was doing a brisk trade behind the bar and also with his bookmaking. First Class was a hot favourite at three to one, and seemed likely to see a much shorter price.
Rodney Shaw was present, and backed Distant Shore freely, and offered to back his horse for a hundred against any one of the runners.
Jim Dennis had not met him since Sal had warned him that the master of Cudgegong was no friend of his. In his straightforward way Jim would have had it out with him there and then, but Dr Tom counselled patience, and Jim knew his advice was good. Shaw came up to them in a friendly way, and was evidently unaware that Sal had reported his misconduct or expressed any doubt about him.
He had been indulging somewhat freely and was in a boisterous mood.
'Now then, Dennis, I'll give you a chance,' he said. 'No one else seems willing to take it on. I'll bet you a level hundred, or any part of it, that Distant Shore beats Neptune.'
'Considering the odds, you ought to lay me a hundred to fifty,' said Jim. 'You have Madsley riding, and my lad has not his experience.'
'I'm not particular,' said Shaw. 'I'll bet you a hundred to fifty if you like that Distant Shore beats your horse.'
'Very well, it's a wager,' said Jim.
'I'll lay you a hundred to ten against Neptune,' said Aaron Hyam.
'That will suit me,' replied Jim.
'I'll take that too,' said Dr Tom.
The people crowded round them, and there was a lot of jostling and pushing in a good-humoured way.
Abe Dalton was there, but wisely kept in the background. He had no desire to risk an encounter with Jim Dennis.
Dalton would have given a good deal to ensure Neptune being beaten, and when he saw Dr Tom and Jim together it occurred to him that Willie Dennis was probably alone at the doctor's house.
He went out at the back and quickly made his way in that direction. He had no very distinct idea what he intended doing, but he was determined Willie Dennis must be incapacitated from riding.
'If the lad can't ride Neptune,' said Dalton, 'the horse will not run, because he won't be able to find another jockey.'
He had not forgotten his oath to Dr Tom, but he had kept it so long that he felt absolved from it, and to a man like Dalton oaths do not count for much.
He went stealthily as he neared the house, and, cautiously treading up the steps on to the verandah, he looked in at the open door.
Willie Dennis was asleep in a cane chair, and Abe Dalton, creeping round, saw one of the doctor's pestles, which he used for pounding various things in a mortar. He picked it up, and then, approaching the lad from behind, hit him a violent blow on the head.
Willie fell forward out of the chair, face downwards, on to the floor.
Abe Dalton rolled him over, and, looking at him, said to himself, —
'He'll get over it all right, but I reckon it's settled him for to-morrow.'
He put the pestle back in its place, and quickly leaving the house hurried back to the Gum Tree Hotel.
Constable Doonan happened to meet him, and Abe Dalton could not avoid him.
'You are in a hurry,' said Doonan. 'Going to back The Captain, I suppose?'
'Yes,' said Dalton, 'and I'd advise you to do the same.'
'I shall have my bit on Neptune,' said Doonan. 'I want to see young Willie Dennis win the cup.'
'He'll not win it,' said Dalton. 'He's had no experience. Take my tip and put your bit on The Captain,' and he went on his way towards the hotel.
'He'll not know where I have been,' said Dalton to himself. 'Lucky he did not meet me near the doctor's place or he might have suspected something.'
The hotel was still full, and Dalton again backed his horse with two or three bookmakers.
'You seem pretty sanguine of winning,' said Shaw to him.
'Yes, I am. He's a good horse.'
'I think mine will beat you, but I don't much care what wins if Neptune is out of it.'
'You seem to have a "down" on Dennis lately.'
'He's a precious sight too good for this world,' said Rodney Shaw. 'Thinks such a mighty lot of himself. I'll tell you what, Abe Dalton, I've a piece of work for you to do, if you care to undertake it. It will be a risky job, but you are accustomed to take risks, and I am accustomed to having my own way.'
'What is it?' asked Dalton. 'We can't talk here.'
They went out at the back, and Rodney Shaw said in a low voice, —
'I want that half-caste woman of Jim Dennis's. Can you get her for me? I'll give you a stiff price.'
Abe Dalton laughed as he said, 'She's not worth taking any risks about.'
'Oh, yes, she is, and I have taken a fancy to her. Can you get her?'
'Of course it could be done, but there would be the deuce to pay about it. Besides, you couldn't keep her when you had her. She would go back, and as likely as not Jim Dennis would shoot you or burn your place over your head.'
'I'll risk all that. Can you get her? Your gang ought to be able to manage it.'
'It's a difficult job, but it could be done. What's your price?'
'A hundred pounds when she is brought to my house,' said Shaw.
'I'll think it over and let you know, but you are a fool for your pains. Fancy risking so much for a black gin.'
'She is not a black gin, she is a very fine woman,' said Shaw.
Abe Dalton shrugged his shoulders and looked at the speaker with undisguised contempt, which was, however, lost upon him.
'Is it a bargain?' asked Rodney Shaw.
'I'll do my best. Money down, mind you, and you take all the blame,' said Dalton.
'Agreed,' said Rodney Shaw; 'and the sooner you kidnap her the better.'
'A little bit of "blackbirding" ashore,' laughed Dalton, and Shaw joined him in his mirth.
When Dr Tom and Jim Dennis had seen Neptune safely locked up for the night, with the black fellow inside his box, they walked home together.
'Willie's asleep,' said Jim, as he saw him lying on the floor.
'Funny little chap. Why didn't he lie on the couch?' said Dr Tom; then, with his practised eyes, he noticed how still and unnaturally calm the lad was. He stooped over him and gave an exclamation of surprise, with a tone of alarm in it.
Jim Dennis was down on his knees beside the boy in a moment.
'He must have fainted and fallen out of his chair,' said Dr Tom, picking him up and placing him on the sofa.
Jim Dennis was in an agony of fear. He seemed utterly helpless. Dr Tom felt Willie's head, and found a lump at the back where he had been struck with the pestle.
'Jim, he's been hit on the head, and a heavy blow it must have been. Keep quiet and I'll soon pull him round.'
Jim Dennis looked on half dazed. He could not realise what had happened.
In a short time, under Dr Tom's treatment, Willie came round, and, opening his eyes, looked about him.
'Oh, my head,' he said faintly, and seemed on the verge of going off again.
The blow was severe, but not so serious as might have been expected.
When he had recovered sufficiently, they questioned him as to what had happened, but he knew nothing about it, or how he had been struck.
'I went to sleep in the chair, and I remember nothing more,' said Willie.
'There's been some dirty work here,' said Jim. 'Let me find out who has done it, that's all.'
'Shall I be able to ride to-morrow?' asked Willie. 'My head seems to go round and round. Oh, I do hope I shall be able to ride Neptune.'
'Don't worry about that, Willie,' said his father.
'After a good night's rest you will feel better,' said Dr Tom. 'I think you will be able to ride. I'll fix you up with a good nerve tonic in the morning.'
Willie smiled faintly; his head was very painful and ached badly.
He was put to bed and a sleeping-draught given him; after which he rested peacefully.
'We must get to the bottom of this business,' said Jim. 'I should not wonder if Dalton had a hand in it. He'll find he has gone a step too far if I can sheet it home to him.'
'That blow might have killed him,' said Dr Tom. 'It must have been a heavy weapon he was struck with.'
'Is there any danger?' asked Jim, anxiously.