at the end of which the sun rose and the moon rose. He saw the silver arc now upon the horizon with the shapes of trees etched in vivid black across it.
“The men like you,” persisted Roger, “the fellows around the mills and the camps. They are the chaps I’m afraid of.”
“My dear chap, my singing to them occasionally won’t affect their politics. But you get your committee going as soon as you can. And make George Rhodes chairman of it. He’s the most intelligent of that lot in Dargaville.”
“Yes, I will.” Roger stretched out his legs. “I envy you, Barrington.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. Really I do. You have no ties. You don’t have to be respectable. You don’t care what men say about you.”
“Don’t I?”
“Well, you don’t show it.”
“What men don’t show, my naive friend, is often the most vital thing about them.” Dane took another cigarette and lit it at the one he had just finished. He turned a little and readjusted his cushions. Then he looked quizzically at Roger. Besides Doctor Steele he was the only man he had asked to come to this place. He would never forget that Roger had called upon him at Mac’s hotel before he had been there a week and had invited him out to his sheep run. He had not accepted the invitation, but he had accepted the spirit of it. Dane liked Roger. He was like a blanket on a cold day. He appeared to enjoy life. And there was something about his big loose body, his strong limbs, that gave physical comfort to the other man with his nervous organism and his much too ready weariness.
“It must be an awful bore to have a public job,” said
