Before leaving Hugh was fully instructed what to do if he compassed

the second finding of Considine. He was to travel under another

name, for fear that his own would get about, and cause the fugitive

to make another hurried disappearance.

He took a subpoena to serve on the old man as a last resource.

Charlie was emphatic. "Go up and get hold of the old vagrant, and

find out all about it. Don't make a mess of it, whatever you do.

Remember the old lady, and Miss Grant, and the youngsters, and

all of us depend on you in this business. Don't come back beaten.

Don't let anything stop you. Get him drunk or get him sober--friendly

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or fighting--but get the truth, and get the proofs of it. Choke it

out of the old hound somehow."

Hugh said that he would, and departed, weighed down by responsibility,

to execute his difficult mission. He had to go into an untravelled

country to get the truth out of a man who did not want to tell it;

and the time allowed was short, as the case could not be postponed

much longer.

He travelled by sea to Port Faraway, a tropical sweltering township

by the Northern seas of Australia, and when he reached it felt like

one of the heroes in Tennyson's Lotus Eaters--he had come "into a

land wherein it seemed always afternoon."

Reeves, the buffalo shooter, was a well-known man, but to find his

camp was another matter. No one seemed to have energy enough to

take much interest in the quest.

Hugh interviewed a leading citizen at the hotel, and got very little

satisfaction. He said, "I want to get out to Reeves's camp. Do you

know where it is, and how one gets there?"

"Well," said the leading citizen, putting his feet up on the arms

of his long chair and gasping for air, "Le's see! Reeves's camp--ah!

Where is he camped now?"

"I don't know," said Hugh. "I wish I did. That's what I want to

find out."

"Hopkins'd know. Hopkins, the storekeeper. He sends out the

supplies. Did you ask him?"

"No," said Hugh. "I didn't. I'll go and ask him now."

"Too hot to bustle round now," said the leading citizen, lighting

his pipe. "What'll you have to drink? Have some square; it's the

best drink here."

Hugh thought it well to fall in with the customs of the inhabitants,

so he had a stiff gin-and-water at nine in the morning, a thing

he had never done, or even seen done, in his life before. Then he

went over in the blazing sunlight to the storekeeper, and asked

whether he knew where Reeves' camp was.

"That I don't," said the storekeeper. "I send out what they want

by a Malay who sails a one-masted craft round the coast, and goes

up the river to their camp, and brings the hides back. They send a

blackfellow to let me know when they want any stuff, and where to

send it."




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