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to see how Willie fared, he went to look at the stranger amongst his mob.

      Already there was a fight on and the stallion was trying to savage his nearest neighbour. A battle royal seemed imminent, but Jim Dennis meant to stop that.

      He went for a stock whip, and quickly gave the combatants to understand he was acting as referee and that he had called time.

      Crack came the lash and caught the stallion on his flank. He jumped as though he had been shot, and stood still quivering. Crack came the whip again, and the other combatant galloped round the yard.

      The strange horse stood looking at him with a fiery light in his eyes. He evidently did not understand this unceremonious treatment, and resented the lash of the whip.

      'You try it on. Just you try it on. You'll savage me, will you? My boy, you don't know Jim Dennis.'

      Jim stood bareheaded, with the rain pouring down upon him, and he revelled in the glorious shower bath. He had on a rough shirt, such as stockmen wear, a dullish red, it having seen some service, and his breeches fitted neatly into his riding boots. He was rather particular about such things for a bushman, and he may be called such without it being a misnomer.

      The horse eyed Jim, and Jim kept his eyes steadily fixed on the horse.

      There was a moment or two of uncertainty, and then, before the animal had time to plunge forward towards him, Jim Dennis whirled his whip round, and the lash came down on the horse's neck and curled.

      With a jerk Jim had it freed again, and then the horse rushed at him.

      He sprang on one side and escaped the furious attack. Quick as lightning, before the animal could turn, he had brought the lash down again on his back, and this time the horse did not turn, but galloped to the far side of the yard.

      But the struggle was not ended.

      The stranger again made an attack on the horse nearest him, and there was a general uproar and stamping of hoofs amongst the mob.

      Jim returned to the attack and separated them. In doing so he became wedged in a corner against the fence, and the stallion came straight at him.

      He had no time to use the lash, so, seizing it short in his hand, he twisted it round and raised the stock.

      He struck the now infuriated horse a blow on the forehead, which dazed him for a moment but did not daunt him. The horse stood on his hind legs and commenced to strike at Jim with his fore feet.

      Jim Dennis knew he had never been in such a tight fix before, and he commenced to wonder what would happen.

      He struck the horse's fore legs again and again with the stock of his whip, but could not beat him off.

      He heard the gate opened, but did not see who was there. Presently the stallion was attacked in the rear, and a vigorous lashing from a strong arm made him alter his tactics. He came down on all fours and then kicked furiously. Jim Dennis dodged round him, and, standing back to give himself more room, again plied his lash with effect.

      The horse was now beaten, and took his defeat sullenly. He retreated, and received a parting whack as he went.

      Jim Dennis then saw it was Constable Doonan who had so timely come to the rescue.

      'You were in a tight corner, Jim. I came just in time. That's a brute of a horse. Where did you get him?'

      'I didn't get him, he came of his own accord. He doesn't belong to me. I found him with my mob when I was out on the run. The storm gave them a fright, and they galloped into the yard. He commenced to savage my horses, so I had to separate them. We have had a toughish struggle.'

      'Curious,' said Doonan. 'I wonder to whom he belongs. Looks like a thoroughbred. I have heard nothing about a horse being lost. He must have broken loose. Can you keep him here until I make inquiries?'

      'If we can box him he'll be all right. Perhaps they were bringing him from Sydney or somewhere, and he managed to get away. Come inside, Fred, you are wet through.'

      'It will do me good,' laughed Doonan. 'It is a long time since we had such a soaking. What a difference it will make to your place. By the way, how's the young un? I heard from Dr Sheridan he had been very ill.'

      'He has had a narrow squeak, but he's pulled through, thanks to Dr Tom. Come in and see him. Willie is very fond of you,' said Jim.

      'Oh, did you hear Rodney Shaw has come back from England?' said Doonan, as they went indoors.

      'Has he?' said Jim. 'Why, he must have been away six or seven years.'

      CHAPTER VI

      RODNEY SHAW

      Rodney Shaw was the wealthiest squatter round Swamp Creek. He inherited the property from his father, and had taken no share in amassing the very large sum of money he found himself in possession of at an early age.

      He was only two-and-twenty when he found himself his own master, and soon after his father's death he left his property in the hands of a manager and went to Sydney, where he remained for some time before he took his departure for London. The name of his station was Cudgegong, and it comprised an area of about thirty to forty square miles. In addition to this he held big shares in several mines in the western district, most of which paid good dividends. On his return from England he went straight to Cudgegong, 'to put things in order,' he said, although everything had gone on well during his prolonged absence.

      As a lad he was not liked in the district, and as he grew older he became domineering and somewhat vicious in his habits.

      He had the usual love of horses which seems bred in all Australians, and before he was of age he owned race horses.

      He was a younger man than Jim Dennis by several years, but the two men had not been bad friends, in fact Rodney Shaw got on better with the owner of Wanabeen than with anyone else.

      Jim Dennis was surprised to hear of his return, and asked Doonan if he was sure his news was true.

      'Certain of it,' said the constable.

      'I had it from Dr Tom, and he knows everything that goes on in these parts.'

      'There's not much escapes him, I grant you,' laughed Jim; 'but I hardly think he is correct this time.'

      'Why not ride over and see?' said Doonan. 'You were always welcome at Cudgegong, I hear.'

      'I think I will,' replied Jim, 'as soon as the weather takes up. Perhaps I can be of use to him as he has been away so long.'

      Constable Doonan remained at Wanabeen for the night, and had a long talk with Willie. The lad loved to hear of his exploits, and how he had captured bushrangers in Victoria, and Queensland, before he came into New South Wales.

      When Doonan described the races he had seen in Melbourne the lad's eyes glistened, and he became quite excited.

      'I'd like to ride in a real race,' he said.

      'You're just cut out for a jockey,' laughed Doonan.

      'Am I? Then I'll be one if dad will let me.'

      'Do you hear that, Jim?' said the constable. 'Your boy wants to be a jockey.'

      'Does he?' said Jim, as he entered the room. 'That's strange. I was only thinking the other day what a good one he would make.'

      'Wait until I am strong and old enough, and I shall ride some winners,' said Willie.

      'Hullo, there's the coach coming,' said Jim. 'I forgot it was Ned's day. Ned will be glad of this rain, for he has had a rough time of it lately.'

      Ned Glenn pulled up at Wanabeen as usual, and, leaving a couple of passengers to grumble on the top of the coach, came inside for his accustomed chat.

      'Mind no one runs away with the mails,' said Doonan, laughing.

      'No fear of that near Wanabeen,' said Ned. 'I shouldn't mind if someone would take those two male passengers, though, and leave them somewhere.'

      'Not very sociable, are they?' asked Jim.

      'Regular bears. They have been growling all the way.'

      'Put 'em

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