Page:In bad company and other stories.djvu/329

 'Well, May ! here's your account:

Is the tally of your sheep right?'

'Oh, I daresay it's all right, Mr. Gordon. I made it so and so; about ten less.'

'Well, well; ours is correct, no doubt. Now, I want to make up a good subscription for the hospital this year. How much will you give? You've done pretty well, I think.'

'Put me down a pound, sir.'

'Very well, that's fair enough. If every one gives what they can afford, you men will always have a place to go to when you're hurt or laid up. See, I put your name down, and you'll see it in the published list. Now, about the shearing, May. I consider that you have done your work excellently well, and behaved well all through. You're a fast shearer, but you shear closely, and don't knock your sheep about. I therefore do not charge you for any part of your meat bill, and I pay you at the rate of half-a-crown a hundred for all your sheep, over and above your agreement. Will that do?'

'Very well indeed, and I'm much obliged to you, Mr. Gordon.' 'Well, good-bye, May. Always call when you're passing, and if any work is going on you'll get your share. Here's your cheque. Send in Lawson.' Exit May in high spirits, having cleared about three pounds per week during the whole time of shearing, and having lived a far from unpleasant life, indeed akin to that of a fighting cock, from the commencement to the end of that period.

Lawson's interview may be described as having similar results. He also was a first-class shearer, though not so artistic as the gifted Billy. Jack Windsor's saucy blue eyes twinkled merrily as he returned to his companions, and incontinently leaped into the saddle on his wild-eyed colt. After these worthies came a shearer named Jackson. He belonged to quite a different class; he could shear well if