"I"d like to meet that cousin of hers," replied Hal. "From all accounts, she is a bit of a star."
"I think we ought to wire them that we have left Sydney. They"ll be wondering what has come to us."
"Yes, I should like to let them know. To tell the truth, I thought they wanted to join us, or something of that kind, and, much as I like women, I could not stand that," said Hal, smiling.
"It"s time to go, old chap. Ta-ta, miss," and they left to get ready for their journey.
As soon as they were gone, the two new chums looked at each other and burst out laughing.
"So, you"re a jolly girl, May!"
"And you"re a bit of a star."
"Come, let"s get ahead of them at any rate. We"ll see if girls are so much in the way, Mr. Hal. I consider it a gross piece of impertinence,"
said Hil, leading the way with an air of injured dignity.
"A n.o.bbler of brandy please, miss, and let me have a flask too," said Wyck, hurriedly entering the saloon, for his cab was waiting to take him to the station.
The 6.30 express started for Toowoomba, taking five people, divided into three parties, each party quite unaware of the presence of the others. A lady had shadowed the boys to the station, and seeing them enter the train, left hastily for the Post Office, whence she despatched the following telegram:
Wyckliffe, Toowoomba. They left by to-night"s express for Toowoomba. Danger. Sal.
CHAPTER XXI.
TOOWOOMBA.
Toowoomba being the junction of the Western Line and the chief town on the Darling Downs, the station was a larger one than ordinary. As the express steamed in all was life and bustle, for the down-train had arrived at the same time on the opposite side. Wyck having only a rug to look after, and knowing the run of the place, jumped out directly the train stopped and, calling a cab, drove to the Royal Hotel. Arriving there, he looked at the rack, and saw two telegrams addressed to himself, which he opened eagerly.
"By Jove, they"re here!" he said to himself, and to the barman he cried, "Brandy!"
"You"ll take the same room, sir," said the barman, handing him the drink, and wondering at his hurried manner.
"Say, George, if anyone calls for me I am not in," said he, laying half-a-crown in close proximity to George"s hand.
"I"m fly, governor," said that worthy, pocketing the half-crown.
Wyck hurried upstairs to his room. Locking the door he sat down on the bed to think matters over. His limbs were trembling with nervous apprehension. Every step that pa.s.sed his door made him start, and several times he had recourse to his flask to calm himself. The liquor had the desired effect, and lighting a cigar, he smoked on in silence.
The smoke grew less, the cigar went out, but still he was gazing into s.p.a.ce. A step pa.s.sing his door woke him from his reverie. He took another long pull at his brandy-flask and shaking himself together walked to the looking-gla.s.s, and addressed his own image thus:
"Now, Wyck, my boy, you"ll have to get out of this, and there is only one way of doing it, and that is to disguise yourself. Your moustache must come off first," and he gave that handsome appendage an affectionate farewell twist. "We must part, so here goes," and opening his dressing-case he set to work, and five minutes later was a clean-shaven man. Then he began to make elaborate preparations for his character in the bush by ripping his trousers and blackening them here and there. After a considerable amount of destruction had been done he considered his disguise satisfactory, and prepared for bed. To guard against over-sleeping himself he tied a string to the boots outside his door, and fixed the other end round his wrist. Then, taking a final sip from his flask, he jumped into bed and was soon fast asleep. He seemed scarcely to have dropped off before he was dreaming that Morris had him by the wrist and was sitting on his chest.
"Mercy!" he gurgled, at the same time rising in bed and wrenching his arm free, a process which brought forth the expression of a loud oath from outside the door.
"What"s your game?" called out the owner of the voice, and Wyck woke fully and remembered. Springing out of bed he called the boots into his room.
"What"s your game, young fellow?" repeated that worthy.
"I wanted you to wake me. Come, have a nip."
"Don"t mind if I do, boss."
"What"s your name?"
"Bill Adams. Here"s luck, boss."
"Say, Bill, can you hold your tongue?"
"All depends."
"Here"s a sovereign," said Wyck, handing him one.
"I can hold it as tight as wax, boss."
"Then listen. I got into a bit of a mess over a girl, and there are some chaps after me. They came by the express last night, and if I"m here they"ll find me."
"Then you"d better get out of here."
"That"s just what I want to do. How is it to be done? See I have shaved my moustache and altered my clothes."
"What did yer cut them for?"
"I want to be a tramp."
"Let me fix yer up. Just yer stay here," said Bill, disappearing to return a few minutes later with a swag, which he laid on the floor and opened.
"Now then, just you put on these breeches, shirt and boots."
Five minutes later Wyck did not recognise himself, as he looked in the gla.s.s.
"Now then, boss, if you"re smart, there"s a goods train leaves for the West at six, you can catch that."
"Will you take charge of these things?" asked Wyck, strapping up his portmanteau, flurried with the success of his scheme.
"Yes, I"ll watch "em for you."
"Which way do I go?"
"This way," said Bill, leading him to a back entrance, opening on a lane leading to Ruthven Street.
"Here"s another for you, Bill, and if you look after my things I"ll give you a couple more when I come back," said Wyck, handing him another sovereign.
"Right you are, boss!" and as he closed the door upon him, a grin spread over his face, and he said to himself:
"Two yellow boys for old Joe"s swag, eh? Wonder what old Joe"ll say when he comes to look for "em?"