"
"There's one man you know, anyhow," said Jim grinning. He pointed out
old Joe Howard, the nearest to them among the ploughmen.
"Heavens!" ejaculated Bob. "You don't mean to tell me old Joe has come
of his own accord!"
"Couldn't keep him away," Jim said. "He remarked that you were a very
decent young feller, and he'd taught you how to work, so he might as
well lend an 'and. It's like old Joe's cheek, but he'll claim for ever
that he made you a worker."
"Oh, let him," said Bob. "It doesn't hurt me, and it may amuse him." His
gaze travelled across the busy paddocks. "Well--I'm just staggered," he
said. "The least I can do is to get to work quickly."
They turned the horses out and scattered; Bob to cutting scrub--it was
the job he liked least, so it seemed to him the decent thing to tackle
it--Jim to the drain construction, while Wally joined the band of
workers in the garden, since he knew Tommy's plans concerning it; and
Mr. Linton attacked a fence that needed repairs. In the middle of the
morning came the Billabong motor, driven by Norah, with Brownie and a
maid in the tonneau with Tommy, and hampers packed wherever possible. A
cart with other supplies had been driven over by Evans in the very early
morning, since Billabong had undertaken the feeding of the workers for
the day. The Rolls-Royce picked its way delicately round the paddocks,
while the girls carried drinks and huge slabs of cake to the different
bands of workers--this being the time for "smoke-oh.
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