Leslie, let's go back to Mum."

Sterl labored up the grassy bench, conscious of a queer little sensation of pleasure, the origin of which he thought he had better not analyze. He dropped the heavy canvas roll in the likeliest spot, and sat down in the golden glow from the wattle. The adventure he had fallen upon seemed unbelievable. But here was this golden-green valley, with purple sunset-gilded ranges in the distance; there was bowlegged Red staggering up the gentle slope with his burdens. He reached Sterl, wiped the sweat from his red face, and said:

"Queer deal, eh pard?"

"I should snicker to snort, as you say sometimes."

"Pard, I've a hunch these fine Australian men have no idee what they're up agin'. They're takin' their familees. Leastways Slyter is, an' this Stanley Dann. One fine hombre, accordin' to Jones. Takin' his only daughter, too. Beryl Dann. Wal, it'd be hard enough an' tough enough for us without a couple of girls... This Leslie kid. About sixteen, I'd say. But a woman, an' full of all a woman has to make men trouble."

Just before dusk, they were called to supper. They entered a big plain living room, where a fire burned in a rude stone fireplace, and a long table with steaming, savory foods invited keen relish. Mrs. Slyter was a buxom, pleasant woman. Leslie inherited her fine physique. However, when the girl came in, Sterl hardly recognized her in a dress. Her frank, winning gaiety offset the mother's silence. Red brought a smile to Mrs. Slyter's face, however, by saying that such a supper would be something to remember when he was hungry way out on the Never-never.

"Boys, in the morning first thing I want you to look over the horses," said Slyter. "After that we'll ride over to town. Dann is keen to talk with you."

"Miss Leslie, what was thet you said about yore Dad's horses?" asked Red.

"Dad breeds the finest stock in Australia," she replied. "That's where his heart is. And mine, too. The chief reason Dad wants to cross the Never-never is because he has learned that in the far northwest, in the country of the Kimberley's there is a perfect climate, grass and water beyond a drover's dreams."

"Sounds sweet. What air the Kimberleys?"

"Mountain ranges. Stanley Dann's brother Eric has seen them. He says they are paradise.