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 "Yes. In the feathery line. When shall I see you again?"

"We are going back to the South Coast on Saturday."

"Then let me see you to-morrow. Let me call for you at your house—and bring you back into town for dinner in the evening. May I do that?"

"Thank you," said Somers.

"What does 'thank you' mean? Danke! No, thank you."

"Yes, thank you," said Somers.

"Don't thank me, man," suddenly shouted the other. "I'm the one to do the thanking."

Somers felt simple startled amazement at these sudden shouts—loud shouts, that you might almost hear in the street.

At last Jack and Somers left. Jack had felt it his business to keep quiet: he knew his chief. But now he opened his mouth.

"What do you think of Kangaroo?" he asked.

"I'm beyond thinking," said Somers.

"I know, that's how he leaves you when he makes a set at you. But he's a rattling fine sort, he is. He puts a heart into you when your chest's as hollow as an old mustard tin. He's a wonder, is Kangaroo: and he keeps on being a wonder."

"Yes, he's certainly a wonder."

"My, the brain the man has! I say, though, talking about tigers and kangaroos reminded me of a thing I once saw. It was up in the North. I was going along when I heard snarls out of some long buffalo grass that made my hair stand on end. I had to see what it was, though, so into the grass goes I. And there I saw a full-grown male kangaroo backed up against a tree, with the flesh of one leg torn clean from the bone. He was gasping, but he was still fighting. And the other was a great big cat, we call 'em tiger-cats, as big as a smallish leopard, a beauty—grey and black stripes, and straighter than a leopard. And before you could breathe, a streak of black and grey shot at that 'roo's throat, seemed to twist in mid air—and the 'roo slipped down to the ground with his entrails ripped right out. I was so dumbfounded I took a step in the grass, and that great hulking cat stopped and lifted his