Geologist - a man with many letters after his name.
"Had the chaps heaving rocks round for him half his time," he said.
"Couldn't see much sense in it meself." Dan spoke of the geologist as
"one of them old Alphabets." "Never met a chap with so many letters in
his brand," he explained. "He was one of them taxydermy blokes, you
know, that's always messing round with stones and things."
Out of the water, the opal tints died out of the limestone, and the
geologist in us went to sleep again when we found that all we had for our
trouble was a piece of dirty-looking rock. Like Dan, we saw little sense
in "heaving rocks round," and went back to the camp and the business of
packing up for the homestead.
About next midday we rode into the homestead thoroughfare, where Cheon
and Tiddle'ums welcomed us with enthusiasm, but Cheon's enthusiasm turned
to indignation when he found we were only in for a day or two.
"What's 'er matter?" he ejaculated. "Missus no more stockrider"; but a
letter waiting for us at the homestead made "bush" more than ever
imperative: a letter, from the foreman of the telegraphic repairing line
party, asking for a mob of killers, and fixing a date for its delivery to
one "Happy Dick."
"Spoke just in the nick of time," Dan said; but as we discussed plans
Cheon hinted darkly that the Maluka was not a fit and proper person to be
entrusted with the care of a woman, and suggested that he should
undertake to treat the missus as she should be treated, while the Maluka
attended to the cattle.
