Billabong Gold

Mary Grant Bruce

Description

It is the height of the gold rush when Dick and his sister Betty make their first visit to stay at Billabong and encounter rather more excitement than they’d bargained for. News of the gold strike has brought hopeful prospectors into the Billabong hills, among them an unscrupulous ex-prize fighter named McGill and Lee Wing, the Chinese gardener turned cook, whose ingenious plan to outwit McGill makes him the hero of the day. At the end of the adventure, everyone agreed with Dick - it certainly was something they’d never forget!

Sujets

• Action
• Fiction
• Adventure

Informations

• Publié par: Rare Treasure Editions
• Date de parution: 06 novembre 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781774643372
• Langue: English

Extrait

Billabong Gold
by Mary Grant Bruce

First published in 1937
This edition published by Rare Treasures
Victoria, BC Canada with branch offices in the Czech Republic and Germany
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, except in the case of excerpts by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

Billabong Gold



by MARY GRANT BRUCE

To
B. M. G.
CHAPTER I
AN INVITATION
"S HALL you go, Jean?” asked Betty Yorke.
“Goodness, no!” answered her sister decidedly.“It doesn’t tempt me in the least.”
“But you used to like going to Billabong.”
“Oh, I did, when I was only a kid. It was fun enoughthen to spend most of one’s time on a horse, and anyodd moments playing tennis. But really, Betty, I’vegrown out of that sort of thing. It would bore me totears to spend weeks there now.”
“You and Norah Linton were great friends once,”said her mother regretfully. “I liked her better thanyour present set, Jean—they’re too advanced for me!”
“Oh, my set’s all right,” Jean answered. “Theyknow how to keep things going. And I like Norahalmost as much as ever when she comes to Town andgoes to dances and races, and sees everything there isto be seen. She’s great fun then. But nothing ever happens at Billabong. The same old round—and I’mnot built for station life, Mother. I like a ride now andthen, but give me cars!”
“Well, I suppose they have cars,” remarked Betty.“They seem fairly civilized.”
“Cars—yes; but they only think of them as usefulnecessities for getting from one place to another. Notto be seriously considered beside horses. And Norah’swrapped up in that small boy of hers; she’s never beenthe same since she married Wally Meadows. Toodomesticated altogether. She wears the most appallingclothes——”
“Oh, I say, Jean!” protested Betty.
“You only see her in Town. She turns out wellenough then, but at Billabong——!” Jean tilted avery pretty nose. “Woollies and old coats and skirts,when she’s not in riding-breeches. I never thought I’dbe able to get her into a decent wedding-dress; a nicerush it was, too, when she and Wally tipped themselvesinto the lagoon just when they ought to have beendressing to get married. Just picture them—arrivingdrenched and covered with mud, and all the wedding-guestswaiting on the verandah! And they thought it ahowling joke!”
Betty giggled.
“I wish I had seen it,” she said.
“Well, I didn’t think it was funny. No, I’ve outgrownBillabong. As for going there now—why Iwouldn’t leave Melbourne this month for anything.I’m booked for dozens of things.”
“What are you all conspiring about?” asked Mr.Yorke, appearing on the scene.
“Oh, it’s not a conspiracy, Father. Only I’ve justhad a letter from Norah Meadows. She wants me togo up to Billabong. She and Tommy Rainham arealone there; at least, except for that small boy, BillBlake, who spends all his holidays with them.”
“Tommy Rainham? Is he the young Englishmanwho settled near Billabong?”
“No, it’s his sister——Jim Linton is engaged to her.I don’t know why they call her Tommy.”
“I do,” said Betty. “Her name’s Cecilia.”
“Well, that’s an excellent reason,” remarked Mr.Yorke, taking a cup of tea. “But why are they alone,Jean? Where’s Norah’s father, and that enormousbrother of hers—Jim, isn’t he? To say nothing of herhusband.”
“They seem to be camping out in the ranges beyondBillabong. Norah’s rather vague about it—she saysthey’re prospecting for gold, and Bob Rainham too. Itsounds a bit queer. They never used to go in for thatsort of thing.”
“Oh, quite sane men become queer if the gold-bugbites them,” observed her father. “Not that I believethere’s any gold in that district. Still, I don’t knowmuch about it, after all. Does Norah want you to jointhe fossicking party, or just to hold her hand becauseshe is lonely?”
“I don’t believe she’s lonely at all. Norah never is.She says they go out to the camp now and then, andsometimes Mr. Linton and the boys come in to thehomestead. She seems to think it would be a goodtime for me to go up. Dick is asked too. I told herin my last letter that he was at home because of hisschool being in quarantine, and she jumped at that,because young Bill Blake is in the same box—he goes toDick’s school. So she thinks Dick would be a good matefor Bill.”
Mr. Yorke showed rather more interest at thisinformation.
“That’s very nice of Norah,” he said. “And uncommonlygood for Dick. That boy is simply living atcinemas when he isn’t knocking about the streets—notthat there’s much else for the poor youngster to do.He would jump out of his skin at the chance of going toa station.” He stirred his tea. “What about it,Jean?”
“Nothing doing, I’m afraid, Father,” she laughed.“If you only knew all the engagements I’ve got ahead!”
“Oh—your engagements!” he said, with a touch ofimpatience. “Can’t you let them slide for a few weeks?”
“Father, you know I can’t. It would mean lettingdown ever so many people. And I don’t want to goto the country. Not a little bit. Why don’t you sendDick up by himself?”
“Certainly not,” said her mother firmly. “Norahhas one boy visitor on her hands; I’m not going to addto her responsibilities. Think of what Dicky’s mendingwould be, to say nothing of any other consideration!”
“She wouldn’t mind,” said Jean carelessly. She lita cigarette, leaning back in her chair. “Norah takesresponsibilities in her stride. I believe young Bill wasrather a terror when he first went there, but she managedto tame him. She would think nothing of having asecond youngster to look after.”
“Not my youngster,” returned Mr. Yorke. “No—Dickmust stay at home if you won’t go, Jean. I wouldn’tmind sending him if her men-folk were there, but it’sanother matter when she is alone with the Rainhamgirl. It’s a pity, though; Dick would have loved it.”
“It’s a beastly shame!” said a furious voice.
The face that appeared at the window of the drawing-roomwas red with anger and very dirty. In calmer andcleaner moments it might have been called good-looking;indeed, when Dick Yorke was washed and brushed, hisfair hair reduced to such sleekness as its tendency tocurl allowed, his mother thought fondly that he wouldhave looked beautiful as a choir-boy. To which hisfather would have responded grimly that Dick certainlypossessed all the possibilities with which choir-boys arecredited when off duty. Just now, he stared fiercely athis family, keeping his heaviest scowl for his eldersister.
“Dick, you’ve been listening!” exclaimed his motherwith an attempt at severity.
“Well, I never asked you to talk when I was sittingjust outside on the verandah, did I?” demanded thefierce voice. “Can’t I be on my own verandah if Ilike?” The voice was a little breathless; one mighthave suspected that the speaker was inclined to choke.“I—I couldn’t help hearing you talking, could I? An’,anyhow, it was my business. I s’pose you’d never havetold me I’d had an invitation. An’ now you won’t letme go!”
“Steady, Dick,” said Mr. Yorke.
“I’m . . . being steady,” said the voice with a gulp.Dick pointed an accusing finger at Jean. “You’d letme go, too, only she won’t take me. She’s just mean!Just ’cause she’s got her own car an’ heaps of fat-headedfriends, an’ she thinks she’s someone! Stickin’ redpaint on her lips an’ powder on her silly nose, an’ pluckingout bits of her eyebrows, an’——”
“Dick!” His father rose threateningly.
“Well, doesn’t she? You know jolly well she does,an’ you don’t like it either—you said so. Only youwon’t make her take me to that Billabong place—youjust let her do every single blessed thing she likes. An’—an’—itjust is a beastly shame!” The choke inhis voice became overpowering; his head vanishedsuddenly. Feet pounded along the verandah and diedaway.
In the drawing-room there was silence for a moment.Jean had flushed a little, but she laughed.
“Dick’s manners!” she said expressively. “Really,Mother, he’s a bit out of hand. He certainly isn’t fitto go away to stay at Billabong or anywhere else, ifyou ask me!”
“Well, it’s enough to make the poor little chap losehis temper.” Betty’s tone showed where her sympathieslay. “He does love the country, and it’s so dull forhim at home.”
“So I suppose you mean I ought to put everythingaside and take him?”
Betty hesitated.
“No, I don’t mean that,” she said honestly. “Youwouldn’t enjoy it, and you have all your own plansmade. Only—well, I wish Dicky hadn’t heard anythingabout it, that’s all.”
“He shouldn’t have listened,” said Jean sharply.“Someone will have to teach him that that sort ofthing isn’t done.”
Betty got up with an impatient movement and beganto collect the teacups. She was taller than Jean anddarker; her light-brown hair held tints of copper wherethe light caught it. She lacked her elder sister’s prettinessand her air of perfect poise, but there was a differentattraction in her round face with its wide brow andthe grey eyes that were rarely without a twinkle. Somewhatovershadowed by Jean, Betty took her path throughlife unobtrusively. “Betty finds fun easily; Jean makeshard labour of it,” Mr. Yorke had summed up hisdaughters.
He looked rather uneasily at them now; a hard-workedbusiness man, family disagreements bewilderedhim, and he would not take sides. He had a vaguefeeling that fatherly duty demanded that he should goin search of Dick and reason with him on the subjectof good manners; and he knew it was the last thinghe wished to do. So he filled his pipe slowly and waitedfor someone to speak.
Mrs. Yorke broke the silence.
“Oh, well, it can’t