with feed for the sheep that he might not con- trol at next muster.
"Why, Ted?"
"It's just — Jimmie. He might be wantin' help somewhere, an' I can give it."
"Jimmie? Jimmie Blaine? Ted, I won't believe that you are wanting to bring him to justice!"
Ted laughed just a little, standing big and still against the stars.
"Thanky, sir. No — Jimmie's my mate. He's easily 'feared, an' there's suthin' on his mind———”
"Quite likely," said Scannell, dryly.
. . . "An' bein' a Carth'lic he thinks a powerful lot o' dyin' unshrived an' that sort o' thing. It makes me sick o' times ter think what might be happenin' ter the little chap."
"He tried to ruin you, Ted. He would have perjured himself to do it if he had had the pluck."
"I loves him," said Ted, slowly. "An' love's the kind o' thing as yer can't let out the slack o' or wind it up jes' as yer like. He's weak as a girl, an' I loves him as I'll never love a girL I must find him, sir."
Scannell was angry for the space of five minutes. Then he said something that hurt Ted more than the anger,
"I thought you loved Mains, Ted."
"Don't! Don't! You knows as I— I———”
