

An historical novel about the downtrodden Asker clan and the harsh

realities of life in colonial Australia. It is also about explorers,

gold miners, gamblers and corruption.

'One heck of a story. I didn't need to read more than a few paragraphs

to know you had it. Success will surely follow.' -- Paul Schoaff

NATHANIEL'S BLOODLINE

Peter Blakeborough

Smashwords ISBN 978-1-4657-4850-8

Copyright © 2009-2011 Peter Blakeborough

This ebook edition is published by Gypsy Books

at Smashwords

Originally published in 2009 as a paperback by

GypsyBooks, PO Box 110, Ngatea 3541, New Zealand

Print book ISBN 978-0-473-15715-9

Website: http://www.gypsybooks.co.nz

mailto: books@gypsybooks.co.nz

Smashwords License Statement

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Other books by Peter Blakeborough

NON FICTION

The Coinage of New Zealand 1840-1967

Highway America – The Adventures of a Kiwi Truck Driver

The New Zealand Tour Commentary

FICTION

Murder at Wairere

A Twist of Fate

The Life and Times of Freddie Fuddpucker

Introduction

London, England, 1786

Twelve-year-old Nathaniel Archer watched the small, dirty, once blonde, street urchin edge forward to where she could strike quickly and make a hasty retreat while the barrow man's attention was focused on a customer.

Nathaniel had seen her before near the markets. He remembered her cheeky grin and her apparent determination to survive in one of the world's cruellest cities for the down-and-out. In spite of the desperately hard life that she led there was something special about her. He thought she would make a good friend and he certainly needed a friend, someone he could trust and depend on when the going got tough, which he thought was pretty much every minute of the day and night.

From a position to one side he watched her pounce on some apples. With a large rosy red one in each hand she melted back into the crowd. But the sharp-eyed trader saw her and gave chase.

Nathaniel pounced on the barrow, helped himself and shouted at the barrow man to bring him rushing back, while the girl made her escape. He ran for his life in the opposite direction and soon outran the older man. Later he saw the girl hiding in a dismal garbage-strewn alley on the other side of the block.

'Why'd yer do that?' she asked, still gasping for breath and looking furtively back at the corner.

'Cos we all be in the same bleedin' pickle.'

'Makes sense, I suppose. What be yer name?'

'Nathaniel Archer. What be yours?'

'Isobel. Most me family is dead, some hung at Tyburn, others from the consumption an' fever. Wadda bout you?'

'Yeah, 'bout the same. Me pa went to sea an' never came back. Don't know what happened. Me ma was murdered. It were 'orrible. Took to me scrapers an' been on the street ever since. It's a bleedin' 'ard life, ain't it?'

They sat down together with their backs against a dirty old brick wall and finished their apples.

The sky was overcast and a bone-chilling wind swept along the alley.

'Yeah, but it beats bein' dead, don't it?' she said with a cheeky grin.

Nathaniel thought about that while he wiped his runny nose on his tattered sleeve.

'Anythin' beats bein' dead. Sometimes I think it's gonna be different some day. Yer know a warm 'ouse, 'ot tucker, flash clothes. Maybe some far off place where the sun shines all day an' folks cares – maybe in that place they call the New World. I'll bet there ain't none homeless urchins in the New World – wherever that be.'

Nathaniel turned to look at his new friend.

'How old is yer?'

'Eleven, abouts.'

'Think I's about twelve. We could be friends an' watch out like friends do.'

'Yer already best friend I got.'

Her nose was running continuously too and she wiped it on her ragged sleeve. She pushed her knotted hair out of her eyes to get a better look at him.

'Yeah, I has dreams too sometimes. While we 'as dreams, we 'as 'ope and when we stop dreamin' we'll finish up like those miserable folks at Tyburn. They 'ad another hangin' there last week. Someone said there was two an' twenty o' them strung up together and a bigger crowd o' onlookers ain't been seen in years.'

'An' when they finished they left 'em hangin' fer the maggots as a lesson t' others. I seen other hangin's at the Tyburn gallows an' that's what they done then too.'

'Friggin' mad, ain't it?'

'Yeah, I ain't sure how many two hundred be, but they say that's how many crimes folks can be strung up for.'

'Yeah, folks only steal to live. Rich don't understand that. They've never 'ad to steal to live.'

'They steal too, but they steal cos they be greedy.'

The breeze accelerated and the temperature in alley dropped sharply as the light began to fade. A stormy night was looming.

'Think I'll be off to me shelter,' she said with her signature grin.

'What yer got?' he enquired.

'A barrel and some newspaper. Pity I can't read like them rich folks.'

'I seen a cozy place 'tween a wall an' a shop. Must be a snug place if the number o' rats be any thing to go by. See yer, Isobel.'

'Yeah, see yer, Nathaniel.'

The next day they met again near another market. Isobel was excited as she shared a secret with Nathaniel.

'Look at this.' She opened her hand to reveal a silver two-shilling piece. 'Reckon it'll keep us goin' fer a while, if we share it.'

'I'm startin' t' like yer, Isobel. I think you're me best friend. How'd yer get it?'

Isobel gave her cheeky grin.

'Ain't I yer only friend?' she asked quickly with a grin before going on. 'It were dropped accidental like an' I scooped it up an' ran fer me friggin' life.'

'We could get two dinners at a steak 'ouse fer that, but then it'd be all gone. If we got a loaf o' bread an' some jam you'd still 'ave most of it. Wouldn't cost more 'n about four pence. Me ma used to say she didn't know what the world was comin' to wid the price o' everythin' goin' up so.'

A week later Nathaniel was caught by a sharp-eyed baker as he tried to steal a loaf of bread. The baker dragged him to the lock-up and the next morning he was taken before a magistrate.

Appearing in court was a terrifying and bewildering experience for the young lad. A large crowd of complainants, creditors and others jostled for space on the floor of the courtroom. Overlooking the crowded floor and filled with eager spectators were two public galleries supported by ornately decorated pillars. A huge two-tiered chandelier with dozens of lighted candles hung from a chain over the center of the floor. Nathaniel looked furtively around the courtroom trying to understand what was happening. An important looking man in an unusual white hat that hung around his ears was glaring at him in a most disapproving manner. Another man nearby barked at him.

'Nathaniel Archer, ye are charged with the crime of stealing goods to the value of three pennies and one half. How plead thee?' the clerk of the court asked in a stern voice.

'I dunno, mister.'

'Did thee do it, lad?' the man in the white hat growled.

Nathaniel's eyes darted from the clerk to the magistrate. In his confusion he forgot the question.

'Do what, mister?'

The magistrate's face reddened as he reached for his flask, removed the top and prepared to take a consoling swig. The flask stopped inches from his mouth and he glared at the dirty youth and roared angrily.

'First I tell thee, Archer, you will not address me as mister. To thee it will be your honor, or sir. Ye will answer all questions speedily and truthfully and ye shall not ask questions.' The magistrate looked at the prosecutor. 'Is this another of the wretched Archer mob that we dealt with earlier this day?'

'No, your honor, the lad is unrelated.'

'Has he got a family?'

'Evidently not, your honor. He seems to know little of his father. His mother was a prostitute who was murdered a year or two ago. He lives on the streets, sir.'

'Yes, yes, and so do a million others. We've heard it all before. The city seems overrun with the likes of him. They are all the same. There's no hope for any of them. They shouldn't be allowed to breed. Well, at least, if he's not related to those other Archers, he's got that in his favor. I shall treat him with the greatest leniency.' He paused to take the delayed swig of brandy while he considered a suitable course of action. Again he glared at the young prisoner and thumped his gavel down on the bench.

'Change his name, mister clerk, so there'll be no confusion; otherwise he'll likely hang as one of them. He asks too many questions... Call him... Yes, call him Asker.'

'As it pleases your honor.'

'Now, tell me, Asker. How do ye plead? Are ye guilty, or not guilty?'

'I only took some bread because I was hungry, sir.'

'So ye admit ye took the bread?'

'Suppose so, sir.'

The magistrate rapped his gavel on the bench again.

'Then I find thee guilty as charged. What's thy name, lad?'

'Nathaniel Asker, sir.'

'Nathaniel Asker. It is therefore ordered that ye be transported beyond the seas, to such place as His Majesty, by the advice of His Privy Council, shall think fit... Burrrp! For a term of not less than seven years and that will surely be the new penal colony at New Holland. Did I not promise leniency, lad? If ye had been of the Archer ilk that earlier appeared before me, like them, you would be now preparing to swing from the gallows at Tyburn. Take him away.'

PART ONE

Chapter 1

The First Fleet

On Sunday 13 May 1787 the eleven ships of the First Fleet sailed down the English Channel as Governor-designate, Captain Arthur Phillip, spoke with David Collins, his judge advocate.

Nathaniel Asker listened from his cage.

'The shutters on the shops will go up for the first time in years,' said Phillip. 'There is a belief that England will be safe again for decent people with the criminal riff-raff gone for good. But the seven hundred and fifty convicts assigned to the First Fleet are merely the unfortunate few, wretched and incompetent souls, who have been caught. With them we are expected to build a new nation. The new nation will need ships for trading when this fleet is returned, but we have no shipwrights. We will need to produce food, but we have no farmers and only one gardener. We could catch fish from the sea, if only we had more than one fisherman. Then we must consider the housing needs of fifteen hundred souls and for that we have two bricklayers, one mason and six carpenters.'

Nathaniel thought that he could help build the houses even though he had never built one before. It would be easy.

'Almost half the convicts have never been employed at anything, Mr Collins,' the new Governor continued.

'Indeed, Your Excellency,' the judge advocate replied. 'They are no more than a good representation of the least successful of England's small time criminals. They had to be to get caught in a country that still lacks a professional police force.'

'We shall have to do our very best, Mr Collins, and make every endeavor to persuade the imperial powers to meet our most reasonable demands.'

'Can't wait to get there, mate,' an older youth said to Nathaniel when the officials moved away. 'At least after these four months waiting to sail, caged and chained below decks, we might soon be allowed to see some sunlight and breathe a bit o' fresh air.'

'A convict who claims 'e can count told me sixteen died before we sailed,' Nathaniel said.

'I 'eard it were six and twenty. Could be 'undreds by the time we gets t' Botany Bay but I's got a feelin' Botany Bay could be a shit-load better than ol' England, mate.'

'Could be,' Nathaniel added with little enthusiasm as his thoughts turned to Isobel and the backstreets of London. He wondered where she was and what she would be doing, if she were still alive. It was a long time since he had seen her and the face and cheeky grin were starting to fade from his memory.

Nathaniel was consigned to the Alexander, the foulest ship in the fleet. He was to travel in company with some of the meanest and most violent convicts ever to be shipped across the high seas. More than fifty of them had been sentenced to death within the previous three years only to have their sentences commuted in time for the departure of the fleet.

Five days from Portsmouth, the eleven-ship fleet was beating across the Bay of Biscay and being pounded by heavy seas. It was a wretched time for the seasick convicts. The ships took on colossal amounts of water. The convicts were saturated, cold and miserable, and spewed and defecated where they lay. Most had no change of clothes, and even if they had, they would have been saturated too.

As one of the younger convicts Nathaniel was regularly raped, beaten and tortured by the older men. Often when he slept fitfully he would awaken from a nightmare in which another brute was astride him, holding him in a vice-like grip, dribbling snot, spraying spittle into his hair, and blasting hot, foul breath around the back of his neck. As a dark depression took over Nathaniel's mind he found it increasingly difficult to separate nightmares from reality.

When the prisoners were allowed on deck, he sat alone thinking about his wretched life. There seemed little to live for, except Isobel, the only true friend he had ever had known. He knew that he would never see her ever again but he thought about her a lot and tried to remember her face and the plucky grin. In spite of his early hopes about Botany Bay, he doubted life there would be any better – if they ever got that far.

Nathaniel gazed out over the Atlantic Ocean. The sea was relatively calm for a change and the rolling motion of the ship was almost tolerable. The sun was shining down brightly and he felt warm for the first time in months. But he dreaded the arrival of more storms and he had heard that the storms already experienced were mild compared with what lay ahead. He had a growing feeling that he would not live to see his next birthday, whenever that was. And what was the point? He could continue to suffer the endless brutality, sodomy, shame and misery, or he could end it all then and there like the poor souls who had already disappeared overboard. There had been speculation about whether they had been swept away in the storms, or simply jumped to avoid further misery. The only certainty was that they were gone forever and they were no longer suffering. It was strangely comforting to realize that for once in his life he actually had a choice, even if he chose not to have a life anymore.

He turned his back on the foul-smelling ship and looked out to the thin line that separated the featureless sea and sky. The world would not miss him and he would not miss the world.

In a state of serene calm and clarity, he climbed onto the gunnel, looked down at the sea for awhile, and let go.

A strong pair of hands grabbed him just in time.

Nathaniel struggled in the arms of his rescuer, overcome with the bitter tears of disappointment.

'Leave me be! I wanna die forever!'

'Not so easy, lad,' the master of the Alexander said firmly. 'It will be different in Botany Bay, lad. Ye'll have a better life there. That I promise ye, meanwhile its back in chains an' cage for yer own safety.'

'I don't want no chains or cage no more! I wanna die! Get yer friggin' hands off me and shove yer stinkin' ship up yer arse!'

'I could have yer flogged for that kind of talk,' the master warned sternly. 'But come along, lad.'

He summoned two crewmen to escort Nathaniel below.

As the other convicts returned to the cages for the night, John Hudson, the youngest convict in the fleet, showed Nathaniel a ledge within easy reach of their cage. Nathaniel put his hand inside the ledge and felt the handle and blade of a knife.

'Don't give in t' the bastards, Nate,' he whispered. 'Knife 'em if yer 'ave to.'

'Thanks mate,' Nathaniel whispered.

He realized that Hudson was the only friend he had on the ship. Suddenly, he was disappointed that Hudson was his friend. Friends rarely stayed together for long and he thought again about Isobel and how much he missed her.

As the last light faded Nathaniel felt a rough hand on his leg and instinctively he tried to move away. The hand suddenly grabbed him roughly and he let out a shriek of terror.

'I gotcha, lad, an' yer be mine tonight,' the older convict boasted triumphantly.

'Leave me be, mister,' Nathaniel pleaded.

'Not likely, lad, it be my turn now.'

The older man's hands were groping and tearing at Nathaniel's already ragged clothes. Nathaniel managed to get one arm free and in the gathering darkness he reached through the bars of the cage and into the recess in the ship's hull. His hand closed on the knife.

'Leave me be, mister,' he said with growing authority.

'Ye'll not speak out o' turn, lad. I mean to 'ave yer and that be that.'

'I'm warnin' yer, mister. Let me be!'

The bully laughed callously and tightened his grip. Nathaniel knew that he would get only one chance with the knife. If he got it wrong his attacker could easily overpower him, grab the knife and use it to slash him to ribbons. The ship pitched on the swell and a small shaft of moonlight provided enough light and Nathaniel lunged. The bully winced as the blade ripped into his flesh. An instant later he lay moaning on the floor of the cage while Nathaniel cowered in a corner, crying and shaking, but still holding the bloodied knife in readiness for another attack. When daylight came his attacker lay dead.

Nathaniel remained in chains while Captain Phillip decided on a suitable punishment for the murder of a convict in these extraordinary circumstances. The master of the Alexander argued against a flogging but some members of the crew wanted Asker executed. Phillip delayed his decision until the fleet sailed into Rio. There he sized up the situation, and transferred Nathaniel to the Prince of Wales, making him the second only male convict among forty-nine females.

Most of the female convicts eagerly accepted Nathaniel into their miserable quarters, but with varying motives. Some simply wanted to mother him while others saw him as a tender young sex slave. Nathaniel was startled and confused by the hostility and jealousy amongst the women.

'Stay close to me, lad,' said a large woman with a kindly face. 'I'm Mary Tomlinson and this is me son, Joseph. Everyone on this ship knows Mary. I settle disputes, haggle with the officers and protect those what can't protect themselves. And I don't take no crap from no-one.' She studied Nathaniel silently for a long time. 'What's your name, lad?'

'Nathaniel Asker,' he said hesitantly.

'Why is yer bein' sent to Botany Bay?'

He looked down at the floor of the stinking cage.

'Stealin' from a baker.'

Again Mary studied him silently and he hoped that she would not ask why he had been transferred from the Alexander.

'Look at me, lad. Yer don't 'ave to be ashamed o' wantin' to survive. Was yer homeless?'

'Sort of... There was an uncle an' aunt but... I didn't like it with them.'

'I think I understand, Nathaniel. Can I call yer Nate or something shorter than Nathaniel?'

He was so surprised at being asked for his consent, instead of always being ordered around, that he readily agreed in spite of preferring his full name.

'Wish I weren't 'ere, missus,' Nathaniel said, thinking again about England and Isobel.

'Well yer is here an' yer goin' to Botany Bay whether yer like it or not, Nate. So make the most o' it cos yer ain't never gonna see ol' England again.'

Mary Tomlinson kept her word and for the rest of the voyage acted as Nathaniel's guardian. The other women feared her while the crew had a high regard for her. Whenever there was trouble aboard it was always Mary who took charge.

Chapter 2

The Southern Ocean

At the Cape Colony the fleet took on board seed for the new colony's crops and hundreds of domestic animals including cows, sheep, horses, goats, pigs and dogs. They were packed into every nook and cranny of the eleven ship fleet. Vast quantities of food and water were also loaded for the livestock and it was decided that the crew and convicts would be on strict water rations for the long final leg across the Southern Ocean.

Within three weeks of sailing from Cape Town the livestock and fowls started dying and Captain Phillip ordered additional water restrictions.

As the ships moved deep into the Southern Ocean they encountered the most severe storms of the voyage. Icebergs were a common sight and huge seas continually crashed over the upper decks and swept through the convicts' cages. To add to their misery cooked meals had to be abandoned when the fuel supplies ran out. By 18 December the fleet had run out of flour and butter. Permission was granted to break open supplies marked for Botany Bay.

Christmas Day came and went like any other miserable day. The wind was firmly from the north-west, the sea was rough but the fleet was finally making good progress. On one ship the most memorable thing about Christmas was that another outbreak of dysentery was at last under control.

Another violent storm struck late on New Years Eve. The sea came crashing through the cages on the Prince of Wales washing many of the women against the bars of the cages and causing physical injuries to add to their distress. Nathaniel awoke abruptly when a goat pen fell on top of him in a disintegrating pile of broken sticks, spilling its bleating, terrified contents all over him. In the darkness he managed to hold onto a nanny and kid, fearing that both would be swept overboard. The women screamed in mortal terror at first but their screams were quickly replaced by desperate prayers from a few and the most foul oaths and cusses from most of the others.

Gradually the storms abated and early on the morning of 5th January an excited cry came down from the main topgallant sail.

'Land ahoy!'

'We'll soon be ashore now, Nate,' Mary said. 'They're gonna call this place New Holland and they say they're gonna start a new nation 'ere. I hope it's gonna be better than the savagery, injustice and starvin' what we've left behind. I really hope so an' some folks is already callin' it the lucky country. We'll see...'

Chapter 3

New South Wales, 1788

The last of the fleet anchored in Botany Bay on January 20, 1788. They found a desolate, drought-stricken wasteland that held no resemblance to the idyllic bay that James Cook had described two decades earlier. Phillip quickly realized that Botany Bay was no place for his sick, starving, dispirited band of reluctant pioneer settlers to pit themselves against the elements. With a small party of officials he sailed north to investigate Port Jackson, sighted by Cook, but not explored.

They sailed through the heads and found a sheltered harbor with beauty to match any in the world. There was an abundance of fresh water, what appeared to be fertile soil, wildlife and trees. Phillip was so taken with the place that he made an immediate and historic decision to ignore orders and establish the colony at Sydney Cove in Port Jackson. To celebrate the occasion the crew of the Lady Penrhyn petitioned for an extra ration of rum and the day ended in a drunken party, loud singing, rioting and debauchery. Lusty couples sprawled in the red clay between rocks and the copulating history of the new nation got off to a roaring start a day ahead of its constitutional beginning.

The next day the surviving convicts were marched, or carried, to a clearing where the official founding and swearing in took place to the accompaniment of a military band and gunfire. Governor Phillip took the oath of office from David Collins and swore on the Bible, in which he did not believe, pledging among other things not to attempt to restore Charles Edward Stuart to the throne; the gathering being unaware that a few days earlier on the other side of the world Charlie had successfully drunk himself to death. Two leather cases held the official documents and seal of George III which commissioned Phillip to administer oaths, appoint officials, raise armies, convene courts, emancipate prisoners, execute martial law, and establish forts, cities, and boroughs as he deemed necessary.

With the convicts marched away the Governor and his officers sat down to a luncheon of cold mutton and rum. But to their horror the freshly killed mutton was already infested with maggots, a timely reminder that in their new environment few things would remain fresh for long. In addition, as the persistant blow-flies swarmed and crawled the new arrivals became the first of millions to practise the later famous 'Aussie Salute.'

Later, the Governor was rowed back to the Sirius, his home until the erection of his prefabricated, canvas Government House had been completed.

Chapter 4

Hunger and Punishment

A boot planted firmly against Nathaniel's rib cage awakened him from a fitful sleep as the first light of a new day cracked through the ship's decking. He recognized the harsh bellow of Lieutenant Ernest Handley.

'On ye feet, Asker, and look lively! There's work to be done, houses to be built.'

'I ain't never done a house afore, sir,' Nathaniel protested as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

'Doesn't matter. We don't have any carpenters. On ye feet, Asker, and less o' ye lip, or it'll be a floggin' for yer, an' that's a promise.'

'I heard they gonna have us puttin' up wattle an' daub huts like the peasants use back home,' John Hudson said as they were marched to a rocky hill west of the cove.

'An' they gonna use them cabbage trees what grow in the cove. Reckon they be the only timber that be any good,' Thomas Barrett said.

Nathaniel listened in silence as they trudged on in the oppressive heat.

'They won't build many huts from those few cabbage trees.'

'They'll wash away the first time the tropical rain comes,' an older convict said.

'Yeah. Yer could be right 'bout that,' Barrett said. 'Jesus, I wish there was more food. Me stomach thinks me throat be cut.'

'Leave it t' me, mate,' John Hudson said quietly. 'Tonight I'll get enough food for all of us.'

'Yer goin' t' steal it?'

'Nope. Just gonna get what's our right. You'll see.'

'I'll be with yer,' Nathaniel said on a sudden impulse.

'Good on yer, mate,' Hudson said.

That night Hudson and Asker raided the supplies store while the sentry slept at his post. They were in the middle of a feast when they suddenly looked down the barrel of Lieutenant Handley's pistol. The next morning they were paraded before the judge advocate who ordered ten lashes each for the two youths.

Handley, a notorious bully, was appointed to supervise the punishment and he sometimes took it on himself to order one or two extra lashes for convicts who irritated him. He had already shown his contempt for Nathaniel Asker and the lad cringed in terror as two brawny marines bound his hands and feet to the gory wooden triangle so that the bloodthirsty flogger could do his business. With a tormenting ache in his again empty gut and a flood of tears bursting through his tightly shut eyelids, Nathaniel shook violently as he waited for the first lash. At the order from Handley he braced himself and heard the evil swish of the cat. The lash bit deep into his flesh and he screamed in agony. The violent reflex jerk of his emaciated body tore strips of skin from his limbs where they were bound to the triangle. But that was minor compared with the skin and flesh that was ripped from his back by the savage cut of the lash. He sagged against the triangle and moaned weakly.

Handley grabbed a handful of Asker's hair yanking his head back to look into his face.

'What say ye, convict scum. Are ye ready for ten more of those?'

'Nine more, Mr Handley.' Surgeon John White corrected him.

'At least ten more, Mr White,' Handley countered angrily. 'This convict is as evil as they come and already has a murderous history. If I say more, it shall be more and I'll thank thee, Mr White, not to interfere.'

'Then so be it, Mr Handley, but if the prisoner shows signs that further punishment may pose a threat to his life I'll order that the flogging cease.'

'Mind yer own business, Mr White.' Handley turned gleefully to the flagellator. 'The second stroke, my good man.'

Nathaniel braced himself again, heard the swish of the tails, felt the savage cut and screamed again as the agony racked his body. He collapsed against the triangle. The world spun. A grey-misty nightmare of excruciating pain followed. Nathaniel believed that his end had come as a darkness descended. But a bright light suddenly appeared from above and he looked down on his own wretched, bloodied body. At last he was at peace. He was dead. There was no pain, no hunger. But then he heard voices from afar.

'I order that the punishment cease, Mr Handley. The prisoner's life is in danger, sir.'

'That's yer trouble, Mr White. Ye be soft in the head. A good thrashing never did a thief any harm. If it be left to mollycoddlers like yerself the likes o' Asker would do as they please. All right. Cut the thief down.'

As the bindings were severed Asker slumped to the ground where a rough prod from Handley's boot turned him over.

'On yer feet, scum, and back to work.'

'Overruled, Mr Handley! There'll be no work for this prisoner afore the morrow,' White insisted.

White then ordered a group of Asker's fellow convicts, including his close friend, Thomas Barrett, to help him to a tent where he could recover from his ordeal.

The next morning Asker was put to work again on the construction of houses, his wounds still raw and bleeding and his frail body racked with pain. Two days later, when the stealing of food did not stop, the Governor stepped up the punishment. He ordered that fourteen-year-old Barrett be hanged for stealing some salt pork, peas and butter.

'I admit I've 'ad a wicked life. God forgive me,' Barrett said in a sobbing voice as he was manhandled roughly onto the gibbet. A moment later he was launched into eternity, his eyes bulging and his bowel and bladder, under the abrupt force of gravity, discharged their contents onto the ground.

While grieving for his dead friend Asker also struggled to recover from the physical and emotional effects of his own punishment. Gradually, over the next days and weeks, he realized that he must make a decision for his future.

It was time to forget the past and make the most of his new life. Like most of the convicts, he spent every night sleeping under the stars and the days working to the limits of his physical endurance, yet he started to regard New Holland as a decidedly better place than England. Even as he lay down each night to sleep in the open, thinking about the fading image of Isobel and realizing that the climate was much warmer and drier than England, he didn't ever want to go back, except perhaps to find Isobel.

Eventually the scorching summer sunshine eased and the chill of winter drifted across the new land, but it was nothing like the freezing, sodden winters of England. In contrast the sky remained clear for much of the winter at Sydney Cove.

From the construction of the wattle and daub huts on the Rocks, Nathaniel was assigned to help with the construction of the Governor's permanent residence and the first primitive huts to replace the servants' tents. Mary Tomlinson had already been assigned to the Governor's expanding staff and was soon placed in charge of the household staff. She shared her small hut with her son, Joseph, and Nathaniel.

Chapter 5

Isobel

Gradually a smattering of Government farms and private vegetable patches were established around Sydney Cove using convict labor. But the settlers lacked understanding of the local soil and climatic conditions and as a result most of the early crops failed disastrously. A ship was dispatched to obtain relief from overseas but was wrecked on remote Norfolk Island and the arrival of the second fleet from England was delayed when one of their ships was wrecked near the Cape Province. When they finally sailed into Port Jackson two and a half years after the First Fleet a large number of the First Fleeters had already died of starvation, disease or violence.

Nathaniel, a tanned fifteen-year-old and as skinny as a rake, was working on a new house near the Governor's residence as the ships unloaded their convict cargoes in the cove.

'Must be thousands of 'em,' he said to John Hudson.

'Hope they've brought plenty o' tucker with 'em,' Hudson replied. 'We ain't got a show in 'ell of feedin' 'em all here.'

'They don't look to be unloadin' much else. But I hear the Governor is goin' to start more farms an' veggie gardens away from the cove. He reckons the soil here is no good. He's talkin' about a place he calls Rosehill somewhere up the river.'

'How'd yer know all that?'

'Mary Tomlinson hears things. But I'm sworn to keep quiet so not a word, mate.'

'Yer can trust me, Nate, I swear...'

Hudson stopped talking when he realized that Nathaniel had stopped listening. Nathaniel's mouth gaped open as he stared at a group of female convicts being escorted to the west side of the cove and passing barely fifty yards from them.

'Isobel,' he mouthed softly when he found his tongue again. He tried to call out to her but his words were lost as his voice cracked with emotion and disbelief.

'Isobel!' he called a little louder.

He thought that she almost turned his way as the guards prodded her to move faster. The group disappeared through a patch of cabbage trees and then he was unsure if it had really been her.

He turned his attention back to his work but the image of Isobel stayed with him. Like the other new arrivals, her clothes were in tatters and she looked miserable. She had grown little in the three years since he had last seen her and the defiant grin that he remembered so well had gone.

'Yer know 'er?' Hudson asked.

'Yeah. Think so,' Nathaniel answered trying to sound casual again. Later he would tell Mary about Isobel and hope that she would find out where she had been taken. Mary always seemed to have a way of finding things out, eavesdropping on the officials.

Two days later Mary had the information.

'Isobel Sargent 'as gone to Rosehill, probably as a servant to a free settler, or to the female factory. Its sixteen miles from here and they won't let yer go there before yer get yer ticket o' leave. So best forget her, at least fer now. Also heard,' Mary said, adroitly changing the subject. 'His Excellency the gov is angry with the number o' new convicts sent out while there be so little food t' go round. He's writing a letter to 'is superiors in London t' protest. But 'e reckons it won't do no good an' they've probably already got another two thousand on the way. Sounds like we're gonna have a humanitational disaster, or some such, if yer ask me.'

'How long is Isobel's sentence?' Nathaniel asked, determined not to be put off.

'Fourteen years, Nate. She must 'ave nicked too much to get the usual seven.'

'Blimey! Fourteen friggin' years.'

'Take me advice, Nate. Old Mary knows what she's talkin' about. Yer gonna be an old man by the time she's freed – if she lives that long – an' the way they're dying like flies around 'ere, I wouldn't be surprised at anything.'

Nathaniel gulped a mouthful of air and swallowed hard. How could he forget Isobel? They were best pals who had promised to look out for each other. He'd been forced to leave her in England and he couldn't just abandon her again while she was just twenty miles away. Each morning he was marched with other convicts to the building sites of the fast growing Sydney Town and every day he thought about Isobel and what he could do to help her, either to help make her life easier, or to help her escape.

Mary returned to the hut one night with more snippets of information from her eavesdropping.

'The Gov is gonna make some more land grants soon and the first ticket o' leave convicts is gonna get some too.'

'Could I get some land?' Nathaniel asked expectantly. 'I'd be a good farmer.'

'Maybe one day yer will, Nate. But first yer gotta reach one an' twenty years an' yer gotta be emasculated or something.'

'Yer mean emancipated, don't yer?'

'Yeah. Funny word, that. Yer gotta be pardoned or done yer time. Meanwhile if yer had yer heart set on the land yer could ask the Governor to assign yer as labor to one of the farmers.'

'One o' the farmers at Rosehill?'

'Bide yer time, lad. When 'e makes the grants I'll drop a word in 'is ear like.'

'Thanks, Mrs. Tomlinson. If I go t' Rosehill I'm gonna miss yer.'

Chapter 6

Rose Hill

Months later Nathaniel was helping put the final touches on a new cottage in the cove one morning when the Governor, dressed in his formal naval officer's uniform, approached on foot. He was a familiar sight around the cove but Nathaniel had never had occasion to speak with him since the voyage.

'Good morning, Mr Asker.'

Nathaniel was dumbfounded. Why would the great man be stopping to talk with him? It was a moment before he found his tongue.

'Good morning, sir... Yer Excellency.'

'I've been getting excellent reports about you, Asker, and Mrs. Tomlinson tells me that you would like to be assigned to a farmer at Rosehill.'

'Yes, sir.'

'How old are you now, Asker?'

'I think I'm sixteen, sir.'

'Well, Asker, I believe you still have another three years to serve. However, I can assign you to Mr Marcroft at Rosehill and you can continue your service there. Mr Marcroft will take account of your age and give you excellent guidance in your life. He's not the severe taskmaster in the manner of some masters who think their free labor is sent to them for punishment rather than as punishment. For example I wouldn't dream of sending you to the likes of Mr Macarthur.' A wry smile flickered across his face. 'Macarthur is the colony's most distinguished bully. He is forever telling me how I should conduct the affairs of the colony and when I disagree he attempts to have me recalled. Mr Marcroft will treat you fairly and if you continue to make good progress with your life you could be eligible for a reduction in your sentence. Would you like to be assigned to Mr Marcroft?'

'Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I promise I won't let yer down, sir.'

The Governor smiled again.

'Is there a young lady at Rosehill?'

'Ah, yes, sir.'

'Miss Isobel Sargent?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Well, Asker, when you get your ticket of freedom we may see fit to release her into your care as soon as you show yourself to be capable of supporting her.'

'Thank you, sir.'

'Good day to you, Mr Asker.'

Nathaniel watched in awe as the Governor went on his way.

Several days later George Marcroft came to take him to Rosehill. He helped with the construction of buildings and the cultivation of crops and once accompanied Marcroft on an abortive endeavor to find a way over the blue hills to the west. Marcroft treated all his charges fairly but was often under pressure from other settlers, officials and the tyrannical New South Wales Corps and his closest neighbor, the dictatorial John Macarthur of Elizabeth Farm, to take a harder line with the convicts. Marcroft resisted them stoically. It reinforced Asker's earlier decision to work hard and stay out of trouble. He knew that Isobel was in service just five miles away and he waited eagerly for the day when he would receive his freedom. But a sudden and unexpected turn of events delayed his release.

Governor Arthur Phillip, worn down by the responsibilities of high office and the bitter wranglings with Macarthur and the New South Wales Corps, became ill and sailed for England. The highest-ranking military officer, Major Francis Grose, took over as colonial administrator. Grose stepped up the granting of land, but only to his military cronies. He also encouraged them to take on as many convict laborers as they could feed and accommodate with the result that few convicts were released early. Nathaniel was obliged to bide his time.

But there was to be no early release. When Governor Hunter arrived in the colony in 1795 Nathaniel Asker had already served his full term. Isobel had another ten years to serve. As a free man, Nathaniel continued working for Marcroft for his keep while waiting for a land grant and the release of Isobel. If he succeeded in obtaining a land grant she could be released to him as his servant.

But Governor Hunter, like his predecessors, was under pressure from the officers of the Corps. Nathaniel and many others had to wait for a token land grant while Macarthur's Elizabeth Farm grew to two hundred and fifty acres even though only a hundred acres was in productive use. Then Macarthur returned from England with a demand for a further ten thousand acres at the Cow Pastures.

Eventually, after representations from George Marcroft and Mary Tomlinson, Isobel was released into Nathaniel's custody. With the transfer of custody instructions from the Governor in his hand, Nathaniel knocked on the door at Mays Hill Farm.

Chapter 7

Master and Servant

At first he failed to recognize the young servant who answered the door. Then he stood aghast. She had blossomed into an attractive young woman quite unlike the street urchin of so long ago. He stammered awkwardly and his face flushed with embarrassment.

'Nathaniel!' she exclaimed excitedly as she flashed her distinctive grin.

'Isobel! I... I'm so pleased... I saw you at the cove that day...'

'I know. But they wouldn't let me speak. It were horrid on the ship... What brings yer here then? Is yer alright?'

'Me? I'm fine.' He waved the document in his hand and regained his composure. 'I've come with this. It's from the Governor. I can't read, but it says you can come with me. You don't 'ave t' stay here any longer. You're now me servant – if yer wanna be. Wadda yer reckon, Isobel?'

She stared blankly at the document.

'Where'd we go?'

'Sydney Town. They say its growin' fast and its full o' opportunities for folks what wanna work. I ain't flush with money. We'd have to walk the new road but if we start soon we could be there by sundown.'

'I see,' she replied as the cheeky grin shone again. 'You the master an' me the servant carryin' the load?'

'Well, only official like. Remember when we declared we was gonna be best friends an' always look out for one another?'

'Yeah. I never forgot that...'

A voice boomed from inside the house.

'Isobel! Who's at the door?'

'Gimme that,' she whispered and grabbed the document before disappearing into the house. A moment later Isaac May came to the door.

'So you're Nathaniel Asker. I've been expecting you. I heard about you from the Governor's staff and from Miss Isobel. In fact she's never stopped talking about you since she arrived here. I won't stand in your way, lad.'

'Thanks, Mr May. I'll take good care of her.'

As the couple neared Sydney Town they chatted about their lives in the colony and as the sun settled on the horizon they came to a farmer's barn near the road.

'We ain't gonna make it all the way tonight,' Nathaniel said, nodding toward the barn.

'Can't see nothin' else to sleep in,' she replied. 'Just like old times, ain't it?'

'Yeah. But I'd rather be here than in London. We'll soon 'ave work an' our own house. Wait an' see.'

Inside the barn they sat on some hay and tucked into the food and drink that Isaac and Martha May had given them. As the temperature dropped Nathaniel could feel the warmth of Isobel's body next to his. Instinctively, he placed his arm around her shoulder and gently pulled her closer.

'There ain't been a day gone by when I ain't thought about yer, Isobel.'

'Me too. When they sentenced me t' transportation I knew we'd be together again. I just didn't think it would take so long.'

'Yer looked wonderful standing there in the door today.'

'You too,' she said as she relaxed against him.

With his other hand he gently turned her face and kissed her cheek.

'We won't let anything ever separate us again,' he promised.

'Is that master or best friend talkin'?' she asked impishly.

'More than best friend. I love yer, Isobel.'

'I've always loved you.'

Chapter 8

The Cobbler

Mary Tomlinson helped them acquire their first home in one of former Governor Phillip's old tents, by that time seriously decayed and leaking rather badly. They pitched it on an unused lot between the ramshackle huts on the rising ground to the west of Sydney Cove, in an area known simply as The Rocks.

Nathaniel's ambition was to become a cobbler as a stepping stone to eventually being a farmer. He reasoned that with a scarcity of horses, carts, wagons and ships in the colony people would need sturdy shoes for walking, and George Marcroft, a former London cobbler, had taught him the skills needed. Coinage was almost non-existent in the colony and its place was taken by a variety of commodities, the most common of which was rum. Nathaniel traded rum for their day to day living needs and leather and on Sundays he turned the leather into shoes and boots. Some were sold to neighbors and others kept as stock for a shop he intended to open near the Cove.

The planned opening of the shop was delayed by the birth of Albert Asker and a year later Annie was born followed by Cornelius, Andrew, Thelma and Hilda. The shoes and boots were sold from the tent to raise enough rum currency to purchase the materials for building a one-room house.

It was several years before Asker was in a position to move his stock of shoes to a small building in the embryo commercial center of Sydney Town where he ran foul of Lieutenant Handley yet again.

The officers of the New South Wales Corps had a monopoly on the trading activities of the colony and importing shoes was one of the many businesses that Handley was involved in. Two weeks after moving the family and shoe stocks into the single room building on Sergeant-Major's Row, a great commotion broke out in the middle of the night when some youths smashed their way in.

Waking from a deep sleep, Nathaniel thought he was dreaming. But he quickly realized it was no dream when he saw the silhouettes of the youths against the moonlight through the doorway. He leapt from his primitive bed on the earthen floor to give chase. Young Albert, then a tall, strong, blonde-headed ten-year-old, ran eagerly at his father's side. They caught one of the youths and hauled him back to their shack where the youth admitted they had been sent by Lieutenant Handley to wreck as much havoc and damage as they could to put Asker out of business.

It was a frightening welcome to the world of colonial business. Nathaniel let the youth go with a severe warning and, after sitting up all night to protect his family and property, he decided to go and confront Handley with a demand for compensation. Handley listened quietly while Asker poured out his anger and made his demand. Then speaking with great aplomb, Handley informed him that he would be damned if he would pay a farthing in compensation to a convicted thief and if Asker didn't like that, he'd arrange for him to get another flogging to teach him a lesson.

'Aye, you'll never do it yerself. You'll always need help from yer bully mates. Couldn't get yer own 'ands dirty, could yer?' Asker taunted him angrily.

'Go away you grubby oaf or you'll be arrested and flogged.'

'I's still got the scars from yer last floggin' but you'll not flog me no more. I was only a helpless lad then. Now it's man fer man. C'mon 'an I'll give yer a thrashin' yer won't forget in a hurry.'

Suddenly Asker had the Handley by the sleeve with one hand while the clenched fist of the other hand smashed into his face. Handley reeled backwards with his wide eyes staring in fear and shock. He had been taken completely by surprise and it was obvious he was no fighter. Blood spread quickly from his nose and mouth as Asker struck him again and again.

Asker finally loosened his grip on the Lieutenant's uniform and watched him slide slowly to the floor, a beaten wreck of a man. In spite of his wretched start in life Nathaniel Asker had grown into a strong, wiry man. The climate and the physical exercise of working in the fields and the forge had been a great benefit to him. On the other hand, Handley was a man who had bought his commission and had never done a decent days work in his life.

'Let that be a lesson to yer, Handley. Any more trouble from yer an' I'll not stop 'til ye be dead as a maggot.'

Asker slipped out the door and hurried back to his shack to await the men of the New South Wales Corps. To his surprise nothing happened from that quarter, but Handley had not forgotten. Instead he used new tactics to eliminate his unwelcome rival. He slashed his prices below cost and when the word got around Asker's shoe business was doomed.

For the next few years Asker worked sixteen hours a day as a blacksmith. It was hard work and he was only paid a pittance but the family had to survive. Meanwhile Lieutenant Handley's business went from strength to strength. He received a substantial land grant from the Governor, built a fine mansion overlooking the harbor and married a wealthy cousin.

But Handley's fortunes finally changed with the arrival in Sydney of a new Governor, Captain William Bligh. Bligh had earlier been the unfortunate commander of the Bounty when the crew mutinied near Tahiti. He was a strict, no-nonsense ruler and he immediately set about stripping the New South Wales Corps officers of their corrupt power. John Macarthur, one of the most influential and devious officers, was imprisoned and Ernest Handley had his excessive land grant reversed. Bligh also tried to suppress the trafficking in rum, also controlled by the officers of the Corps. At the instigation of Macarthur and Handley the Governor was arrested and placed on board a ship bound for England. Macarthur also was forced to spend some time cooling his heels in England. The outcome was different for Handley who was seen as the ringleader in the military coup. Later, with a new Governor installed, Handley was tried for treason and hanged. When the news was relayed to Asker at the smithy he scarcely looked up from his sweltering work to acknowledge the messenger.

Chapter 9

The Explorers

The years passed quickly as Nathaniel and Isobel witnessed the expansion of settlement into the New South Wales hinterland. The Government continuously opened up new areas for settlement with land grants but it was almost always the upper class elite who acquired the largest and most fertile lands. In addition to convicts, free settlers hungry for land flooded into the colony while ex-convicts, their native-born sons, and the working classes were rarely given an opportunity to acquire land. Furthermore the plight of the emancipist laborers was exacerbated by the abundance of free convict labor which reduced the wages of hired help.

Thirty-five-year-old Nathaniel, worn out from a long day at the forge in sweltering heat, slumped into a home-made chair in their one room shack.

'I think we've missed our chance for a land grant,' he said to Isobel.

'What are yer talkin' about?' Isobel chided. 'Our best chance was gettin' nicked an' bein' sent here. If we'd stayed in England in them conditions we'd no doubt be dead by now. We ain't missed no chance.'

'I know. I didn't mean it like that. It's just that a long time ago I had me heart set on a land grant. Now it seems as far away as ever an' we're not gettin' no younger, Isobel, me dear.'

'No one deserves a grant more than you.'

'Only chance I see's is if the explorers can cross the mountains. There's nothin' left this side an' some folks say there's millions o' acres fer the takin' just over the blue hills t' the west,' Nathaniel said.

'Some folks believe that China is just beyond them hills. That's why the convicts who go bush always head that way an' let's face it there ain't many comes back.'

'Maybe not China but some believe that over the blue hills lies a vast inland sea an' millions of acres of fertile land just waitin' fer the takin'.'

Outside the shack they could hear running feet and an instant later bare-footed eleven-year-old Andrew Asker burst through the door, breathing hard.

'Pa! Pa! I just heard some gentlemen talking. There's goin' to be an expedition to the blue hills again. They said they need people to help an' the helpers will get land grants when they find the inland sea an' plains. Pa, I wanna go with them an' I wanna land grant big enough fer the whole family.'

'Well, son, yer pa wanted a land grant when 'e was your age but they said he couldn't get one until he was one an' twenty. So yer see there ain't much point in yer going yet. But some day yer will 'ave yer own block,' Isobel assured him.

'Some things take time, son,' Nathaniel reminded the lad. 'It's almost five an' twenty years since I first put me feet on these shores an' it ain't been easy but life is better now than ever before. When your time comes to be a man it will be even better. Yer just 'ave t' be patient.'

'Okay, Pa,' Andrew said, his spirit dampened.

'Who was the gents' yer heard talkin'?'

'There were three o' them, Pa. Mr Blaxland, Mr Lawson an' the younger Mr Wentworth. They were near Government House an' they talked about Governor Macquarie.'

'It's well known that Mr Macquarie wants to open up new lands an' if anyone dishes out the land fairly it'll be him.' Nathaniel turned back to Isobel. 'Wadda yer think? Should I call on Mr Blaxland?'

'No gain without venture, as they say,' Isobel quipped. 'I'll support yer all the way, if yer think yer can still do it at your age.'

Nathaniel reflected for a moment. He was one of an ever-diminishing number of surviving First Fleeters. Friends like John Hudson, Tom Barrett and Mary Tomlinson were long gone. New South Wales was a land where young adventurers with means could have good lives, but where the less fortunate, while infinitely better off than in England, could still have short, miserable lives. Nathaniel considered himself in good health and able to keep up with men ten years his junior. The colonial sun and the physical work in the forge had favored him. He also had the benefit of previous experience in the blue hills on one of George Marcroft's attempts to find a way to the inland. He'd learned to handle a musket, shoot a kangaroo, make a campfire and construct a temporary shelter from the provisions of nature.

'I could still do it,' he said confidently.

Landowners Gregory Blaxland and William Lawson, both older than Asker, were encouraged by his earlier experience and, even though they had hoped to take on some younger men, agreed to include the First Fleeter in the expedition. The third partner in the private expedition, Willie Wentworth, was a flamboyant twenty-three-year-old intellectual with an impatient streak, the son of an Irish highway robber turned surgeon and a convict mother both traveling with the Second Fleet at the time when young Willie was conceived.

Chapter 10

The Blue Mountains

The explorers left Blaxland's property with several servants, pack horses, dogs, equipment and rations for five weeks in the bush. They crossed the Nepean River at a ford and pressed on to the west until they were under the first ridge. Close up the ranges looked higher and more rugged than they appeared from Sydney Town prompting Lawson to comment:

'People refer always to the blue hills but I think we should suggest to the Governor that they be named the Blue Mountains.'

'Why do they always seem to be blue?' Nathaniel asked Wentworth who had a ready answer for most things.

'It's the Eucalyptus oil vapor from the trees, otherwise known as koala bear's breath,' Wentworth replied cheerily.

Lawson, a landholder and magistrate, placed his knapsack against the base of a tree and looked about for a moment.

'Here's another name for His Excellency to ponder – Knapsack Gully.'

'I shall make a recommendation to the Governor,' Blaxland promised and he then set about laying down the strategy for their assault on the Blue Mountains and the Great Dividing Range.

'Almost all previous explorations have attempted the crossing by following the rivers and valleys. Always they arrived at an insurmountable sandstone wall hundreds of feet sheer. Caley followed the ridges and, though he failed to cross over, he went further than other expeditions. Caley was correct. He may have erred with regard to which ridge he chose. There may only be one ridge, of hundreds, to take us across.'

At first light they broke camp and started climbing the first ridge. All day they sweated and toiled hacking a path through the bushy undergrowth, retreating again to bring the horses and equipment through. When the sun slipped below the higher ridges to the west they had made only three miles and they had no idea how far they must go to clear the mountains – thirty miles, a hundred miles or a thousand miles.

The older men were exhausted and Blaxland suggested camping again for the night.

'We could have done better today,' Wentworth said with some impatience, 'If we had not spent half the day retreating for the sake of confounded animals.'

'That may be so, Wentworth, but our pack horses could be our savior in the end,' Lawson said.

'And they could be the death of us all. They will never handle the steepest country. They'll fall and break their legs,' Wentworth retorted.

Asker listened quietly. He had an opinion but considering that he was there to serve them all, chose not to side with one party or the other.

'We could save a lot of doubling back on our tracks if we knew which of the myriad of ridges and spurs was the main ridge,' Blaxland said thoughtfully. 'Perhaps you should be an advance party, Wentworth. You could take Asker with you and survey the way ahead each day.'

'It would save the wasted time and effort hacking a path through the bush only to chance upon impassable terrain,' Wentworth agreed.

Five days later, a Sunday, the blistered and sore advance party, rested for a full day. They had covered a little more than ten miles in a straight line from their first overnight camp. Back to the east the Cumberland Plains stretched to the horizon.

'By God, we've got a way to go,' Wentworth said impatiently after first looking at the plains below and then turning to survey the rugged peaks ahead. 'I can understand why so many expeditions failed.'

'We shall not fail,' Blaxland stated firmly. 'By God, we shall not!'

The next morning Wentworth and Asker set out before the dew had left the undergrowth. An hour later their clothes were soaked but they pressed on trying first one ridge and then another and another. They decided sometimes to separate and explore in opposite directions. As the sun dried their clothes they eventually found rising ground that led them higher and westward. Periodically one of them would return with a progress report for the main party as they hacked a path for the horses. Late in the afternoon their course led the advance party onto another dead end spur surrounded on three sides by a steep precipice.

'I'll be damned if I shall let these confounded hills beat me,' Wentworth declared angrily.

Asker sat on a fallen tree and let his head rest in his hands. His limbs ached and he could smell the foul sweat of his unwashed body. He wondered about Isobel and the children and wished that he were at home with them. Slowly he got to his feet again. Wentworth was looking to the west, his face filled with determination. Asker stepped up alongside him.

'These friggin' hills ain't gonna beat me neither!' he said resolutely. 'This is me chance to get a land grant an' make somethin' of me life. I ain't gonna let it go. We'll find the ridge that'll take us t' the other side an' a new life.'

'We shall, Asker. We shall.'

Both parties pressed on doggedly over the next few days. Wentworth and Asker covered many extra miles searching this way and that for the best route forward and upward while the main party continued to clear the path and return for the horses and equipment. As they climbed higher the air became cooler and sometimes it froze at night. Feed and water for the horses became scarcer and several times the men had to descend precipices on ropes to obtain grass and water from a valley below. In spite of that the horses continued to lose condition at an alarming rate.

Chapter 11

The Inland

Three weeks after setting out the explorers found themselves following a narrow path with a steep precipice on both sides. The path took them higher and higher until they emerged onto a plateau from which they could see a broad valley below with good grazing grass and numerous streams. It was a refreshing sight for the exhausted explorers. But beyond the valley a steeper and even higher range posed a new threat to their progress.

Blaxland studied the distant range.

'That must surely be the great divide between the coast and our objective. When we have traversed it we will find a bountiful land.'

'Then let us proceed at once or I am not Old Ironbark as others have called me,' Lawson said firmly.

'Precisely, Lawson,' Blaxland replied. 'First, the devil take us, we shall find a way down the precipice. That shall be a task for Wentworth and Asker.' He turned to address the two younger explorers. 'Hack a track out of the face with the hoes, if you must, but find a way down and a way that will permit the horses to descend without plunging to their deaths.'

There was no way down other than by cutting a narrow track into the side of the precipice as Blaxland had suggested. After several days of sweat and toil the job was done and the explorers carried the horses' loads on their own backs before returning to coax the animals down the steepest parts. Once they were in the valley they found ample food and water for the horses. They found signs of Aboriginal habitation and the dogs frequently barked at night but the expected attack from natives never came.

The explorers were extremely tired and their supplies were running low. Each man quietly hoped that the next range would be the final one. Doggedly, they scaled a high sugarloaf mountain to obtain the best possible view of the landscape ahead.

Wentworth made the summit first with Asker a few steps behind him followed by Blaxland and the rest of the party. After four weeks of searing heat by day, freezing temperatures at night, rain and snow storms, they had crossed the main divide. The few mountains ahead gave way first to rolling hills and then vast plains for as far as they could see.

'I think we've done it, Willie,' Asker said proudly.

'This is an historic day for the colony, Nathaniel,' Wentworth said as he stood gazing at the panorama.

Blaxland caught up to them breathing hard from the climb.

'This will support the pastoral needs of the colony for the next thirty years. Now we must hurry back to inform the Governor of our discovery.'

They completed the return journey in less than a week to be greeted by an indifferent Governor who seemed disappointed that a private expedition had succeeded after numerous official expeditions had failed.

But fellow colonists held the explorers in high regard and the next year Macquarie announced plans for the construction of a road across the Blue Mountains and a new town on the Bathurst Plains.

Chapter 12

The Land Grant

Blaxland, Lawson and Wentworth were eventually granted a thousand acres each on the new plains and Nathaniel Asker was granted two hundred acres across the river from the new town of Bathurst. He built a primitive cart, sold the small house that he had built with his own labor at the Rocks and used the proceeds to purchase cattle, sheep, chickens, a horse and seed for crops. Then they loaded their meager possessions onto the cart and, driving the animals ahead of them, they set out for Bathurst.

Like the first crossing of the Great Dividing Range, it was a slow and perilous journey. Traveling with Nathaniel and Isobel were four children aged from four to thirteen while the two oldest remained in Sydney. For several days they forged their way through the mountains following the explorers' primitive track and resting whenever they found patches of native grass and water. They found gangs of convicts working to improve the track as they sometimes traveled with other fortune seekers and escaped convicts. Almost every day they lost cattle or sheep and wasted valuable time while the children went looking for them. At night they tethered the horse to a tree and the family slept, huddled together, under the cart. Finally they descended from the mountains onto the rolling country west of the main divide. Twelve-year-old Andrew Asker, a lad with an enquiring mind and a sense of adventure, walked at his father's side.

'Are we nearly there, pa?'

'Not far to go, lad.'

'Must've been a lot harder makin' the road as yer went.'

'We did about four times the distance. It's easier now with improvements to the track. It's almost what you'd call a road now.'

They walked on in silence for a few minutes.

'Pa, when the rush to Bathurst really starts, who will show the settlers how to get here with their animals?'

'They'll hire folks with experience on the track, son.'

'I've got experience, ain't I, pa?'

'True, son. When you're older yer could be one o' them folks hired for traveling through the bush.'

'Yer mean like an explorer?'

'Yeah, or like a cattle driver or drover.'

'I think I'll be a drover, pa.'

'Good on yer, mate.'

The nights were warmer and the days became intolerably hot. After three more days they arrived at their land grant near the Macquarie River. Nathaniel parked the cart in the shade of a huge Stringybark tree declaring it the site for their future home.

Chapter 13

Asker's Farm

Assisted by Isobel and the children, Nathaniel set about establishing his farm. They felled trees and used the trunks and branches to build rail fences to stop the animals wandering. A separate area of fertile-looking land was fenced off and tilled so that vegetables could be grown. Meanwhile they continued to live under the cart while they felled more trees to provide the material for a log cabin.

Every day without fail the sky was clear and blue. The nights were cool but not as cold as higher up on the Great Dividing Range. The long hot summer continued and the settlers realized that the region was experiencing a severe drought. The situation became serious. Every day the Askers carried water from the river to sprinkle on the vegetables and they drove their animals down to the river each day to drink, but they had no means of getting water to the grass.

Summer gave way to winter but apart from shorter days and sometimes freezing overnight temperatures little changed. The drought continued. They lived on vegetables and meat from dingoes and kangaroos. As spring came and the grass failed to grow again they started eating their precious but starving farm animals. The plan had been to breed from the animals, fatten them and then drive them back over the mountains to the Sydney market. Unfortunately that was not to be and instead they watched them slowly turn to skin and bone, before dying an agonizing death. The great Macquarie River had become a mere chain of stagnant puddles, and the remaining animals barely had the strength to get themselves down to it to drink. When the sky eventually began to darken in the torrid heat of their second summer, Nathaniel knew that his dream of a better life had turned into a battle for survival.

The struggle took its toll on Nathaniel Asker. Even young Andrew could see that his father, whom he had always thought of as an old man, had started ageing faster since arriving in Bathurst. He hoped that the rain would come soon to make life easier for them all.

The sky continued to darken but still the rain failed to come. Each day large towering cumulus clouds built up during the heat of the day only to dissipate again in the cool of the evening. Finally a huge black cloud gathered above them and they watched in awe as it spread from horizon to horizon, growing heavier and darker by the minute. There was a brilliant flash of lightning followed a split second later by a massive thunderclap right above them. The lightning flashed again and again, as the family looked on, spellbound by the natural drama. The lightning flashes increased in frequency, dancing through the cloud, and sending flashing bolts right to the ground. When the rain came at first it was in isolated large drops.

Nathaniel smiled as he turned his weather-beaten face upward.

'Bloody wonderous,' he shouted happily.

'Gee whiz, pa, I thought it was never gonna happen,' Andrew shouted excitedly as the drops became more frequent.

Within seconds the rain was so heavy that it drowned out the sounds of the family's shouts of joy as they celebrated the end of the drought. Together they stood in the rain looking to the heavens in awe-struck gratitude. They sang but barely heard their own voices above the noise of the downpour and the rolling thunder.

Then, without warning, a great wind came and lifted their cart from the ground, carrying it a hundred feet beyond their pathetic vegetable patch and dashing it into a pile of splinters. The debris from the cart had barely landed when Isobel started to scream only to have her scream instantly stifled by the loudest crack of thunder yet. She had seen the most lethal fork of lightning yet shoot down from the heavens finding its mark in the huge Stringybark tree that shaded their primitive home in the hottest weather and provided a landmark to home in on at the end of each day in the fields. In an instant their beautiful tree exploded into a ball of fire.

'I ain't never seen a storm like this in Sydney Town,' Isobel said with growing alarm. 'Is we gonna be okay?'

'Sure we're gonna be okay, me dear. Just wait an' you'll see we're gonna have fresh grass, good vegetables and healthy animals again. I was beginnin' to wonder me-self but now that the rain has come, there be no doubt about it, comin' 'ere was the best thing we ever done.'

'What about the cart an' our lovely tree?'

'I can easy make another cart an' we got plenty more trees.'

The last light had barely faded when the earth floor became first a sodden morass and then a swirling muddy river. It rained continuously throughout the night and the thunder and lightning went on until the early hours. It was a miserable night for the whole family crammed inside their sodden one room shanty with a foot of water covering the floor.

Chapter 14

The Flood

When Nathaniel put his head outside in the dawn light he was shocked by the extent of the flooding. The Macquarie River had overflowed its banks and spilled onto the surrounding countryside like an enormous sea. Their faithful horse, still tethered to a solid rail, stood knee deep in the swirling water. The other animals were nowhere to be seen and other parts of the wooden fences had been swept away. Nathaniel's optimism was dashed.

'We can't stay here,' he said flatly.

Isobel looked past his shoulder.

'Friggin' 'ell!' she exclaimed. 'What can we do?'

He was silent for a moment.

'Pack up an' leave with what we've got. This is the wrong place. Look there's land showing above the water all around 'cept here our friggin' land.'

Beside him Nathaniel could feel Isobel's anger rising. Behind them the children stood silently, knee deep in the muddy water.

'It ain't right!' she said at last. 'We done our time but we is always ex convicts an' we always get the rough end o' the stick.'

He turned to look at her.

'Yer wanna go back t' England?'

'I don't never wanna see that bleedin' hole again. We ain't got no money fer that anyway. That's the trouble with you, Nathaniel Asker, sometimes yer full o' shit.'

Suddenly she was crying and gently he put an arm around her waist.

'Let's just gather up what's left. We can put it all on the horse an' get the hell outta here.'

The floodwaters were still rising as they abandoned their cabin and moved toward higher ground. Nathaniel carried seven-year-old Thelma on his back and Cornelius, the oldest lad, carried four-year-old Hilda while Isobel and Andrew coaxed the overburdened horse. The girls held on tight and sobbed their hearts out. Several times Nathaniel and Cornelius almost lost their footing and were in danger of being swept away. The youngsters were terrified and everyone was soaking wet, miserable, cold and exhausted.

After what seemed hours, they reached a small island in the midst of the floodwaters and rested there while the rain continued to fall. Isobel produced some scraps of food, saved from the flooded cabin and they tucked in eagerly. By late afternoon they reached the hills and settled down for a night in the open just as the rain stopped.

The next morning the sun shone brightly and dried their clothes. To the south the broad river flowed swiftly as a muddy liquid. There was no sign of their other animals. Nathaniel's heart sank as he compared his completely submerged land with the hills to the north where the pastures, owned by others, had already turned to a lush green. Would the Askers always be second class citizens? Then he was aware of young Andrew standing quietly at his side. The lad had hardly spoken since the storm.

'We be not finished yet, son,' Nathaniel said trying to sound confident. 'There'll be work aplenty with other settlers.'

'Don't worry, pa. I'll help too. I'll get a job.'

'Good on yer, mate.'

They urged the horse forward again and later in the morning they arrived at a collection of wattle and daub shacks owned by John Greene, a free settler from England who had been granted five thousand acres of fertile land, most of it above the floodwaters. Greene lived with his assigned convict laborers and welcomed their company. There was scarcely room for them all, but he invited them to stay and offered work for one member of the family in the short term. Cornelius became a stockman for Greene.

When the river finally receded enough for a crossing the rest of the family moved to Bathurst, the colony's first inland town. It was going ahead in leaps and bounds as free settlers and emancipated convicts moved in to take up land grants.

Nathaniel doubted his ability to be a successful farmer and decided to stay with what he knew best. He headed for the local blacksmith's forge and, with young Andrew at his side, introduced himself to Hector Katterns. Katterns was working eighteen hours a day to keep up with his work and hired Nathaniel immediately.

Meanwhile Isobel, taking the two girls with her, went to the newly erected Royal Hotel on William Street and asked about work. She was offered two nights a week as a cook, or four nights as a waitress. She offered to take both positions if a room for the family could be included. The proprietor agreed.

That night they discussed their future.

'I feel done with moving,' Nathaniel said.

'Yer wanna spend the rest o' yer days in this tiny room?'

'I'd be happy t' spend the rest o' me days in Bathurst.'

'Me too,' Isobel agreed.

'I could build us a grand little house if we could get some land in the town. Yeah, let's stay

Chapter 15

Bathurst, 1815

'Has yer got work fer me too?' Andrew asked Hector Katterns eagerly. 'I'll be as good a worker as any man you ever seen.'

'Could yer lay bricks, lad?' Katterns asked without looking up from his anvil.

The lad knew that blacksmiths did not work with bricks and he wondered what the smithy was getting at. He was keen to do any kind of work.

'You bet, mister.'

'Then get yerself round to George Street, lad. There ye'll find me friend Harry Povey buildin' a Government cottage. He needs a bricklayer.'

'Thanks, Mr Katterns.' Andrew was moving towards the door before he had finished speaking.

He followed George Street towards the river and found Povey working alone on the new building.

'Gidday, Mr Povey. I'm Andrew Asker. Yer friend, Mr Katterns, said yer need a bricklayer.'

Povey paused to look at the skinny lad with the blonde hair and blue eyes.

'Yeah. I sure do. Yer know someone who can lay bricks, lad?'

'I think I could do it.'

Povey eyed him in silence for a moment.

'Well don't just stand there, lad. Pass 'em bricks up to me an' I'll show yer what to do.'

'Yes, sir!'

'Had young Dan Martin helpin' but he's a bit young. Only turns up when it suits 'im. How old is yer, Asker?'

'Thirteen, sir – next year.'

'I'll give yer a chance, lad. If yer learn yer work good and proper I'll pay yer five shillings a week fer twelve hours a day an' five on Saturday. I like to give folks a fair go. Must be the convict in me. Came with the second fleet, yer know. Did me time an' started on me own account. Crossed the hill soon after Blaxland and company and decided to stay.'

'Me pa came with the first fleet,' Andrew said after some hesitation and then added quickly, 'and he crossed the hills with Mr Blaxland.'

Povey stopped work for a moment to study him.

'Did 'e now? Good on 'im. Don't never be ashamed o' yer ma an' pa, lad. Like most folks who was transported, they likely never done nothin' serious 'cept makin' sure o' their survival.'

'I'll remember that, Mr Povey.'

'Day will come when currency lads like yerself will be the backbone o' this country.'

'Currency lad?'

'That be right, native born sons o' convicts – another o' them bricks, lad.'

'Righto, Mr Povey.'

When young Andrew and Harry Povey completed the building in George Street they moved to a new building site in Howick Street and started constructing a grocery store and trading post. A short distance along the street another builder had already started on other Government buildings. Andrew soon got to know the young laborers on that site and they often met on Saturday afternoons for a drink or two and some gambling. Before long he was hooked on both. One of the laborers was Dan Martin, who had previously worked for Harry Povey. They became close friends.

The Askers continued to live in one room at the Royal Hotel until Bathurst received one of its rare visits from Governor Lachlan Macquarie. He sometimes made land grants to the needy and to people who were deserving in some way, or who simply showed loyalty to the Government. Andrew and Harry were busy working on the construction of another government building when the tall, slender, clean-shaven Governor in the British lieutenant-colonels uniform stopped for an inspection of the site.

'Are you the son of Nathaniel Asker?' the Governor asked Andrew.

Andrew was startled that someone as important as the Governor should be talking directly to him. For a moment his mouth failed to open.

'Ah... Yes, sir... I mean Your Excellency. I be a son o' Nathaniel Asker.'

'Is Mr Asker still in possession of his grant?'

'Oh no, sir. We lost everything in the big wet, Your Excellency. Me pa works at the smithy and me ma works at the hotel an' we all lives in a room there.'

Macquarie frowned in silence for a moment.

'Please take a message to Mr Asker for me. Please ask him to come and see me before I leave Bathurst on the morrow.'

'I'll tell him, sir.'

Young Asker watched in silent awe as the famous Governor was driven away in his magnificent carriage. He was an impressive figure with his fancy uniform and military decorations. He had already served longer in the colony than any other Governor and yet his popularity continued to soar. Some folks accused him of being exceptionally vain in wanting so many places, rivers and lakes named after him. Others claimed that he was the first Governor that really cared about the ordinary people including the convicts. He had even invited convicts to wine and dine with him at Government House.

The next day Macquarie granted Nathaniel Asker a quarter-acre of town land on George Street so that he could erect his own cottage.

While the cottage was under construction Cornelius would walk from Greene's land selection to Bathurst each Saturday afternoon to help with the building. He would stay the night in the hotel room, put in a hard day's work on the cottage and go back to Greene's before nightfall on Sunday. Andrew helped with the bricklaying and other jobs and eventually the family moved into the completed building.

Chapter 16

A New Beginning

Andrew Asker's problems with drinking and gambling got progressively worse. Most of the gamblers he played with were smarter than he was. Sometimes he would win money but mostly he lost it. Often his brain was so befuddled by cheap grog that it was no wonder that he lost.

Following a lucky break in a card game, he made a sudden but fortuitous decision. He would stop drinking, stop gambling and leave Bathurst for a fresh start in Sydney Town. Casually he made an excuse to leave the game for a minute.

'Won't be long, me mates. Just the usual call o' nature,' he told them as he gathered up his winnings.

'Ah, c'mon, mate. Another quick round afore yer go,' Dan Martin challenged.

'If I don't go right away, mate, I'm gonna piss me self,' Andrew retorted as he walked quickly away.

A few minutes later he purchased some provisions from the trading center and walked to the Asker cottage on George Street, to tell them of his plans. At Povey's house he collected his pay and started the long walk over the Blue Mountains.

It was early April as he traveled east, walking in the cool of early morning and late afternoon and finding shady trees that he could rest under during the hottest part of the day. At night he wrapped himself snugly inside his swag to keep out the bitter cold.

Descending from the Blue Mountains on the fifth day he met the colonial Surveyor-General, John Oxley, and a party of twelve men heading west.

'From where have you come, lad?' Oxley asked.

'From Bathurst, sir,' Andrew replied.

'Please tell me about the new road.'

'It's much better than when I first crossed over.'

'Excellent, young man. We are under instructions from His Excellency to trace the Lachlan River to the point where he believes it to flow into a vast inland sea somewhere west of Bathurst. He believes that we will discover new fertile lands that could be settled by the masses of land hungry graziers waiting to drive their cattle and sheep into the interior.'

'My pa was an explorer. He crossed over with Mr Blaxland's expedition. Then he came back and led the family across. I'd like to be an explorer.'

'Are you headed for Sydney Town?'

'Lookin' fer work, sir.'

'Look no further, Asker. Just this day one convict member of our expedition has absconded. The man was fresh from London and terrified of the bush. I would be obliged if you would take his place.'

'Yer don't 'ave to ask me twice, sir,' Andrew replied eagerly.

'Excellent, Asker. Welcome to the expedition.'

Chapter 17

The Interior

On a good day in the mountains they traveled five to ten miles a day. Later as they penetrated further inland they were able to cover fifteen to twenty miles a day. The walking day was usually broken into two parts and the men and animals rested in the shade of trees whenever possible during the hottest part of the day. After a midday meal some men read from the two expedition books. Others sang or recited poetry. Andrew Asker soon showed a natural flare for verse but reading came much slower.

Several days later the expedition established a base camp west of Bathurst before setting out in a south westerly direction carrying their supplies and a number of small boats on the pack horses. When they reached the Lachlan River near Gooloogong they split into two groups. One group led the horses along the riverbank while the other floated downstream in the boats crammed with supplies. For the next month they made slow progress until Oxley climbed a low mountain range to survey the countryside. Later he discussed his plans.

'It is impossible to fancy a worse country,' he said. 'It is intersected by swamps and small lagoons in every direction. The soil is poor, hard clay covered with stunted useless timber. We shall press on until we find the land the Governor dreams of.'

'It surely is a harsh and desolate land in the extreme around here,' another man said.

'Hard to imagine a worse hole,' Sergeant Lawton Handley said.

'But the Lachlan and its many branches and tributaries are most bountiful in providing excellent meals of cod and it is beautiful country near the waterways,' Oxley countered.

The expedition deputy leader, George Evans spoke next.

'The predicament is that if we choose to leave the river system we may run short of food. But if we follow the waterways the horses may become bogged in the marshes. We must decide which is best.'

Finally they decided to turn to the Southwest and onto a barren, featureless plain with only occasional muddy water holes. On the driest stretch they traveled for two days without seeing a drop of water until they came to a mountain range where they found fresh spring water. Oxley surveyed the countryside from a hilltop and then changed direction again to the Northwest. Several days later they unexpectedly came back to the Lachlan River with its attendant lakes, marshes and complicated branches. On both sides barren land stretched away to the far horizons.

'This land is quite unsuitable for agriculture,' Oxley remarked with growing disappointment.

Away from the treachery of the waterways there were no signs of life; no animals, birds, insects, or aboriginals. Apart from the cod in the river the explorers seemed to be the only living creatures on the face of a hostile planet. During the day the sun beat down relentlessly and at night they were tormented by severe cold.

'I am somewhat baffled by the flow of water away from the Pacific Ocean,' Evans said. 'I want to believe that all the rivers this side of the Great Dividing Range are flowing into the promised inland sea, the way the Nile flows into the Mediterranean, but where is the confounded sea?'

Andrew Asker listened quietly to the conversation as he slapped at the huge flies that plagued the expedition every minute of the day. Suddenly he became aware of a hateful glare from Lawton Handley.

'If Asker knows this country like he claims, he should be able to lead us all to the great inland sea.'

Simultaneously Asker and several others shot quick glances at Handley. The remark seemed uncalled for. From the faded past Asker recalled that a Handley and his father had been enemies for some reason. He let the remark go unchallenged.

After another week of traveling downstream they were puzzled by the decreased flow of water in the river.

'Is the river drying up before our very eyes?' Oxley asked in a frustrated tone. 'Or have we left the main river again? There are so many waterways one simply does not know sometimes.'

'If Macquarie's inland sea is a reality, then it must surely be a grand oasis on a scale man has never before contemplated,' Evans said as though still holding some hope of finding the fabled area.

With the river all but dried up and their rations running low, Oxley turned his party towards the base camp at Gooloogong by following the Lachlan upstream again. They were bitterly disappointed that they had failed to find the elusive inland sea and its attendant fertile pastures. Nevertheless he was confident that if he turned to the Northwest with fresh supplies and continued exploring along the Macquarie River he would be successful.

Chapter 18

A Fruitless Search

When the next stage of the expedition got under way Oxley again split the party into two groups. One group, including Asker, walked the horses along the riverbank while the others floated downstream with the rations. They managed to follow the Macquarie for only a month before it was reduced to a mere trickle just as the Lachlan had done earlier. After resting for a few days in a dried marsh, at a place that they called Sandy Camp, Oxley brought the team together for another conference.

It was agreed that, while they continued on their present course, the quality of the land for agriculture deteriorated and they were traveling in the wrong direction.

'The best land may be between here and the coast,' Evans suggested.

There were nods of approval from most of the men.

'Then we shall proceed to the east,' Oxley declared. 'The inland sea is a myth. These rivers all dry up as they flow towards the interior and may only reach the ocean in times of flood. We have been searching for grazing land too far inland.'

To Andrew Asker, Oxley's interpretation of the landscape seemed logical, but in Handley's constant and overbearing presence he was reluctant to express an opinion. Also as the youngest member of the expedition he thought it right that he should concentrate on doing his allotted work and leave opinions to others.

As the party moved eastward in the blistering heat the quality of the land improved. Oxley and Evans had been right but both occasionally still spoke romantically of a wonderful inland sea surrounded by a land of plenty. Then they discovered and named the Castlereagh River, a craggy range that became the Arbuthnots, and the fertile Liverpool Plains, which they named for the British Prime Minister.

Other rivers were discovered flowing in north or Northwest directions and progressively the country became more difficult as the explorers ascended the western slopes of the Great Dividing Range.

Asker, like his father before him, became part of the advance party under Evans. Often deep canyons and precipices halted them in their tracks. They struggled on, gamely detouring and backtracking as necessary until they found a way through. The sight of the Apsley Falls plunging into a misty, bottomless chasm lifted their spirits. For another two weeks they struggled through the mountains to a peak they named Mount Seaview and Oxley wrote in his diary, 'Bilboa's ecstasy at the first sight of the South Sea could not have been greater than ours.'

The next day the party descended into a wide valley where they met some Aborigines. Unlike some of the natives they had encountered on the western plains these people were friendly and helpful. A young Aboriginal woman, about the same age as Asker, attracted his attention so much that he could barely take his eyes off her slender body, shining black skin and naked early womanhood. The explorers and the tribe exchanged gifts and traded some tomahawks for a canoe to replace the boats that had been abandoned on the other side of the mountains. Communication was through body language and signs and when Oxley indicated towards the sea the natives offered to escort them.

Chapter 19

Ginalong

Two days later they came to a fine harbor which Oxley named Port Macquarie after the Governor. Near the confluence of two major rivers they camped overnight at a place Evans called Long Flat. Here the Aboriginal elder offered Asker a gift, his daughter, the young woman that he had been besotted with since their first meeting.

'Ginalong.' The old man croaked as he pushed the girl forward and gestured towards Asker with an open hand.

The unmistakable offer left Andrew embarrassed and speechless.

Lawton Handley quickly stepped forward and reached a hand out towards the girl.

'The lad is still wet behind the ears. Leave it to me, lad,' he grinned.

In a flash a deadly spear appeared an inch in front of the sergeant's surprised face and he recoiled like a wound up spring.

'Oh, shit! A man can't trust these black bastards. Was only gonna show the lad how it's done.'

Handley glared angrily at young Asker as Oxley intervened.

'The lad will learn in his own good time, Mr Handley. Remember the natives have befriended us. If we venture to mistreat them they will surely kill us all as we sleep.'

As the last light faded over the western hills the camp settled down for the night. Asker rolled himself into his swag and closed his eyes but his thoughts immediately returned to the events of the day and the beautiful body of Ginalong. Slowly, he drifted off to sleep. Later he was awoken by the sound of someone moving nearby and in the moonlight he could see the silhouette of Ginalong bending over him. He froze. Gently she opened the swag and slid quietly in alongside him. As the softness of her naked body pressed against him he pretended to be asleep but his rising erection and heavy breathing quickly ruined the pretense.

She whispered softly in her native tongue but there was no need for words. Their bodies spoke an international language that was new to both of them yet without a shadow of the slightest misunderstanding. Their bodies and mouths locked together and the previously taciturn Asker found his hand searching eagerly for the soft growth between her tender thighs. She helped him find the place where she was warm and wet and pulled him on top of her. As their passions rose he thrust deeper and deeper.

So this was lovemaking, he thought. It was beautiful and he wanted this woman to be with him for evermore, locked in a never-ending coital embrace that must be superior to anything ever experienced before by any other man and woman who had ever lived. They could have dozens of lovely little black-white children. Suddenly they made the last frantic thrusts as they reached a united climax. It was over all too soon. She stroked him gently until he was able to do it again. Later, still holding her close, his body relaxed and with his mind at peace, he drifted into a deep sleep.

Chapter 20

A Double Shooting

As the first rays of sunshine filtered through the trees Andrew Asker stirred to the smell of kangaroo meat cooking on the campfire. He reached out for the warm body of Ginalong, but she was already gone and he wondered if it had all been a dream.

The Aborigines guided them with considerable skill and the backing of local knowledge. When they camped each night Ginalong crawled into Asker's swag and each morning she was gone again before sunrise. They followed the coast south towards Coal River fording creeks and rivers and sometimes building rafts to cross the larger ones. When the Aborigines returned to their home territory Ginalong stayed with the explorers. Handley saw that as an open opportunity for him to force himself onto the girl.

When Asker heard her screams he snatched up a firearm on a wild impulse and aimed at Handley's chest. But the spreading gunshot also struck Ginalong and within minutes both were dead. Asker's own life was then in mortal danger. Other members of the party were angry that a white man had been murdered for forcing himself on a black woman.

'Let's hang the gin lover,' one of them shouted angrily.

'Yeah. Cut 'is balls off first!' another shouted.

'Hang 'is guts up fer the dingoes an' termites.'

Several men started to move cautiously towards him but Asker still had the gun and, shaking like a leaf, he raised it to his shoulder and took aim at the nearest man.

'The first bastard to come within five foot will 'ave 'is balls blown from 'ere to Sydney Town. Get back if yer know what be good fer yer.'

Oxley and Evans moved quickly to quell the trouble and ordered several men to dig graves for the dead. There was protest about having to bury a nigger until Oxley warned that if the rest of the tribe found her remains then they would all be lucky to get away with their lives. Reluctantly the men dug two graves, a considerable distance apart, and lowered the bodies into them as Oxley uttered prayers for them. Asker was grief-stricken and shocked at the behavior of his colleagues. The expedition would never be the same again. His life would never be the same again. In a most dramatic way he had made the transition from boyhood to manhood.

When the expedition returned to Sydney Town they were greeted like heroes everywhere they went. Asker, still grieving the death of Ginalong, went back to house building and also to drinking and gambling from which he was eventually saved by an invitation to join another party of explorers.

Chapter 21

Return to Bathurst

James Meehan was an ex-convict who had been transported for his part in the Irish uprising of 1798. In New South Wales he became skilled at measuring land grants, was given his ticket of freedom, and appointed Deputy Surveyor-General. He was to be accompanied on his expedition by two leading graziers, Charles Throsby and Hamilton Hume, who were seeking a southern route to Jervis Bay for their produce. Andrew Asker readily accepted their invitation to join the expedition.

Later Asker returned to the building industry again, this time on his own account. There was an abundance of work as the ships continued to unload thousands of convicts and free settlers. His old friend, Dan Martin, joined him and together they worked hard for two years until yet another invitation arrived to join a team of explorers.

This time Hamilton Hume had teamed up with William Hovell and they planned to find an overland route from Sydney to Spencer's Gulf in South Australia where it was believed they would find the elusive mouths of the Lachlan and Macquarie rivers and abundant fertile grazing lands.

Asker accepted again on the condition that he could leave the expedition on the return journey. After being absent from Bathurst for many years he felt an urge to visit his family again.

Traveling alone for almost a month, he carried his swag and rations in a northerly direction. Each day a strong urge to get home drove him forward with renewed energy. He set out each morning at first light and walked until he was forced to take shelter from the heat of the day. Then he walked again until dark, and even later if the way could be seen in moonlight. Several times he saw Aborigines in the distance but he didn't see any white men until nearer to his goal, when he stopped at a grazier's shack for directions. He had another three days walk ahead of him and setting out with urgency in his stride he covered the remaining miles in two days. It was a wonderful feeling to climb to the summit of a small hill and look down on the village of Bathurst nestled in the broad valley beside the familiar Macquarie River.

Except for the happy tune that he whistled all was quiet as he approached the little house on George Street. The door opened and his mother came to meet him. She looked so old and frail that at first she did not look like the mother that he had known so long ago. He'd been away seven years.

Chapter 22

The Widow

'Andrew, me baby!' she cried as she threw her arms around him and let the tears roll down her weather-beaten face. 'You've come home at last.'

'It's grand to be home, ma,' he said softly, as he looked passed her expecting to see his father too. Something was amiss. Her tears of joy were really tears of grief.

'Oh, Andrew. If only yer could've come sooner.'

She sobbed uncontrollably.

'Tell me, ma.'

''E took 'is last breath not an hour since.'

'Oh, Ma. I'd no idea. I'm sorry.'

''E was a good man, yer pa.'

She led him into the little cottage where Nathaniel's gaunt, lifeless body lay on a bed in the only room. He was barely recognizable as the man that Andrew had known as a child.

'I know, ma. He was me hero,' Andrew could feel his own tears wanting to break out. Stubbornly, he choked them back. 'I can't believe 'e's gone, ma, an' I've come an hour too late.'

'I prayed you'd come, lad, and, as ye well know, I's not given to prayin'. I kind o' knew you was the only one what could've come.'

'Where's the others, ma?'

'Far an' wide, lad. Albert and Cornelius have gone north someplace to take up a run. Ain't seen hide nor hair o' them in three years.'

'Thelma and Hilda?'

'Thelma went to Parramatta two years since. Went to a family o' means fer housekeepin'. I prays every day she be safe.'

'An' little Hilda?'

A fresh burst of tears flowed down the old woman's wrinkled cheeks.

'Oh, me baby! She gave up the fight not six months since. Typhus, like so many from these parts.'

Andrew held his mother close as he choked back his own tears again and searched for the right words of comfort. Isobel spoke first.

'It's hard in this big country, lad. Families split to survive and ne'er come t'gether again. It be a harsh land an' climate and there be as much sickness an' disease as any place on earth. I wish I could've gone back t' ol' England. Yer pa liked it 'ere but as I got older I was always fer home.'

'This be yer home now, ma, an' I'll stay to be with you. I'll make Bathurst me home now.'

'No, lad. Yer life is elsewhere now, but I'll see out me days in Bathurst.'

'Then I'll stay here too.'

'No, Andrew. There's nothin' here for yer now. Bathurst be dying, son. Too many droughts, too many bushrangers, sickness an' hardship. Folks is movin' away.'

'How will yer live, Ma?'

'Rent from the other cottage what yer pa built last year. The teacher, Mr Barker, rents it. He wanted to teach us t' read an' write but we was too old t' start learnin' all that. Besides we've managed for long enough without it.' She stopped suddenly and looked studiously at him for a moment. 'Have you learned to read an' write, lad?'

'A bit, ma. Ne'er stayed in one place long enough to learn proper. Been travellin' with explorers fer years. They're mostly educated gentlemen an' I've learned a bit from them, but not proper, mind yer.'

'Come wi' me, lad.'

She took his hand and led him outside the shack to a small wooden cross under an English oak tree. Andrew read the inscription for her one word at a time.

'In loving memory of Hilda Ethel Asker 1810-1824, loved daughter of Nathaniel and Isobel Asker.'

'Mr Barker erected that for dear Hilda. Said she was 'is best ever student. Can yer believe that, our Hilda?'

'Think I can, ma. Hilda was a lovely girl. Ain't it a terrible shame she be gone?'

Isobel stared at the cross in silence for a moment in silence. The tears had finally dried up.

'All our children was lovely, Andrew, including you.'

Andrew put a comforting arm around his mother.

'It were always our dream, lad, that our children would 'ave the best. We ne'er lost sight o' the dream. We wanted our descendants t' 'ave what we could ne'er 'ave fer ourselves.'

'Ma, I promise that one day yer dream will come true. The Askers in the future will be folks t' be proud of. But meanwhile we must put pa into the ground without delay. I'll ask Mr Barker t' make one of 'is crosses for 'im.'

The sun had almost reached its zenith in the deep blue sky when Andrew started digging his father's grave alongside that of young Hilda. There was only the faintest of breezes drifting through the village and it was hot sweaty work even for Andrew who was fit and strong and in the prime of life. Finally the work was done and old Nathaniel was laid to rest under the oak tree in a silent private ceremony witnessed only by Isobel, Andrew and Isobel's faithful cat, Lucy. The next day Barker arrived with a large white cross bearing an epitaph that read, IN LOVING MEMORY OF NATHANIEL ASKER 1775-1824, DEVOTED HUSBAND OF ISOBEL AND FATHER OF ALBERT, ANNIE, CORNELIUS, ANDREW, THELMA AND HILDA. A NOBLE FIRST FLEETER AT REST.

Chapter 23

Bathurst, 1824

Isobel Asker insisted that Andrew should make his life away from dying outback towns like Bathurst. He should go to where there were opportunities for young men. Three days after they buried Nathaniel, Andrew set out for Sydney Town promising to return as often as possible to visit his ageing mother.

The road over the Blue Mountains had been improved considerably since his last crossing and he made the journey to Parramatta in three days and he enquired about Thelma hoping to pass on the news of their father's death. But Thelma had married and gone to live in Singapore where her husband had work with the East India Company.

He walked to Sydney Town and found the town was growing more rapidly than ever. Ship loads of convicts and free settlers were flooding into the colony. He had no difficulty finding work in the booming house building industry. His immediate aim was to save some money and then go in search of his two older brothers who were believed to have traveled overland from Bathurst to the Hunter Valley to somewhere close to the penal settlement at Coal River. An inland route from Sydney Town to Coal River had recently opened but it was rumored to be a rather hazardous journey. More as an adventure than as a means of transport, he decided to enquire about going by ship. He had never been on a ship.

At Sydney Cove an acquaintance, Tommy Begley, told him that an American whaler, the Lady Heriot, was due to sail into the Pacific but would be calling at Coal River on the way. For just seven shillings, much cheaper than the normal fare, Tommy said he could persuade the captain to take him as far as Coal River. Unfortunately Begley was a double-dealing crook who, in addition to other criminal activities, used various scams to provide labor for ruthless sea captains.

Chapter 24

The Lady Heriot

When the Lady Heriot sailed through the heads and into the blue Pacific, instead of turning north and following the coast to Coal River, it held the easterly heading and the position of the sunrise on the second day the confirmed for Asker that the ship was eastbound. He looked astern to find that the coast of New South Wales had slipped below the horizon during the night. Something was not right. No land was visible in any direction and other than the waves and a few fluffy wisps of cloud in a sunny sky the world was empty. He went in search of the first mate, a grubby weather-beaten little man with steely eyes and foul breath.

'Where's we goin'?' he demanded of the first mate.

'I'll tell yer where's yer goin, lad,' the old sailor barked. 'Up there to learn the whale watch.' He pointed to a small figure high in the rigging. 'Now jump to it, me hearty, an' none o' yer lip.'

'There be a mistake 'ere, sir. I paid seven shillin's fer me passage to Coal River,' Asker replied indignantly. 'I demand to know where this ship be headed.'

'Well it ain't goin' t' no Coal River. This be a whaler an' every man aboard is crew an' will work or be flogged.'

For a moment Asker was lost for words.

'Up the riggin' now!' the old salt bellowed.

'I ain't gonna be no friggin' slave fer no-one,' Asker retorted defiantly.

'No more o' yer lip, do yer hear? Up, or in front o' Cap'n Stanton an' he'll order yer be flogged to be sure.'

'Then take me t' the Captain,' Asker challenged, still thinking it was all a mistake.

Captain Stanton was another grubby individual but unlike the first mate he was grossly obese and in the middle of a hearty meal of cold beef and potatoes when Asker was shoved roughly in front of him.

'Mr Asker is refusin' t' work, Cap'n.'

The captain swallowed a mouthful of food and belched.

'Five an' twenty lashes, Mr O'Brien,' he said casually without taking his eyes off the plate. 'If he still refuses give 'im another fifty.'

Asker was stunned.

'But, sir... I didn't join as crew. I paid seven shillings for a passage t' Coal River, sir.'

'We 'as no room for no passengers, Asker, an' we ain't goin' to no Coal River. We be a whalin' ship what's headin' fer the South Seas t' fill the holds with whale oil. Three months, maybe a year, an' we'll be back in Port Jackson where every man aboard will get 'is share o' the prize.' Stanton paused to wipe his mouth on his sleeve. 'Meanwhile every man will follow orders or feel the lick o' the cat o' nine tails. Yer say yer paid seven shillin's, eh? I'll wager yer ne'er got no ticket. Our agent arranges our crews, but he don't sell no tickets that we be aware of. So carry out Mr O'Brien's orders or get a floggin'. If yer still refuses yer'll get another floggin.' After that yer'll be no good fer no work an' Mr O'Brien has authority t' feed yer t' the sharks.' Stanton turned to face Asker. 'Remember I be in command o' this 'ere ship an' on the high seas my word be law. Take 'im away Mr O'Brien.'

Asker was speechless and he instinctively stepped back a pace as the foul-breathed bully thrust himself into his face. He was aghast, not so much at the realization that he was stuck with the ship, because he was an adventurer at heart, but at the flagrant disregard for his freedom and the brutality that he would be subjected to if he failed to co-operate. Slavery was something new to him, but he decided to make it another adventure.

'I'll do it. I'll do it,' he quickly told O'Brien.

'Good on yer, lad,' the first mate replied with a smile and a wink. 'I knew yer would.'

The smile broadened as the old timer held out his hand to the newcomer. Asker, taking the callused hand, decided that he was beginning to like the crusty old devil after all.

'Welcome aboard, Mr Asker. Come an' see me anytime yer have any problems. Meanwhile, enjoy the experience an' I hope yer get t' Coal River eventually.'

Climbing up into the rigging was a scary business with the ship constantly rolling with the motions of the sea. The great sails going slack and refilling with a resounding bang, making the ship lurch precariously. He dared not look down until he reached the whale watchers perch. There he introduced himself to the scrawny lad who would teach him his new skill.

'I'm Ben Rogers,' the lad responded warmly. 'Where did they sell you a ticket to?'

'Bloody 'ell! Does they recruit everyone the same friggin' way?'

'Yep. That's the way them bastards gets us suckers t' sit up 'ere with the bloody wind an' rain howlin' up our arses. If yer don't freeze half t' death then there's a big chance of yer losin' yer grip an' goin' down on the deck like a blob o' gannet shit. It don't matter none if yer hit the deck or go in the sea. Result be the same 'cept it be quicker if yer hit the deck. Yep, some thievin' arsehole sold me a passage t' London so I could see where me folks was from. But then I agreed to sail again.'

Chapter 25

The Whalers

Ben Rogers suddenly stopped talking. Something had caught his eye on the distant horizon. A great gush of water had risen from the sea and Ben knew that that indicated the presence of a large whale. They both watched as a mighty sperm whale broke the surface in slow motion before plunging toward the seabed. Then another great spout appeared near the first and was soon followed by several others. Rogers knew from experience that they had stumbled on a bull and several cows. He called to the crew far below.

The deck below was soon abuzz with excitement at the prospect of a chase. The crew concentrated their attention on bringing the ship around onto a heading that would take them into the midst of the pod. As they drew nearer the sheer size of the leading bull became apparent. Asker had never imagined a living creature so large before. According to Ben it was at least seventy feet long. From their perch high in the rigging they counted five cows and several smaller calves, all of which seemed at least fifteen feet long.

The Lady Heriot quickly overtook the stragglers and bore down on the massive bull moving at three knots against the ship's five knots. The gap steadily closed until the whale was thirty feet abeam of the ship. It seemed oblivious to the presence of the ship.

Andrew watched as O'Brien steadied himself and took careful aim with the harpoon. He had no doubt that the old sailor had experienced this moment of triumph many times in a long career. He seemed to hesitate as though waiting for precisely the right instant. Then the harpoon rocketed forward and buried itself deep into the flesh of the bull. It shuddered and accelerated to a heady twelve knots. It raised its great flukes high above the bloodied, turbulent water, hovered briefly, and plunged toward the ocean floor. At the same moment that the bull disappeared , the Lady Heriot lurched through a powerful wave. O'Brien suddenly lost his balance, side-stepped in a vain attempt to regain it and the harpoon line snapped him leg-first into the sea. Captain Stanton ordered a boat to be lowered over the side so that a search could be mounted for the first mate but he was never seen again.

The remaining crew fought a long hard battle with the largest sperm whale any of them had ever seen before. It plunged to a great depth and dragged the ship forward at a speed well beyond the capability of its sails. Ten minutes later the bull announced its return to the surface with a blast from its great spout and seconds later its massive hulk broke the surface, pushing aside a great swell of bloodied seawater and for two hours they battled to bring the dying bull under control.

Finally, they had it alongside and hacked into its blubber. The crew then turned to the job of processing the blubber by boiling it down. The work was hot, dirty and dangerous as the men struggled to maintain their footing through tons of the greasy blubber. Andrew Asker wondered if he would ever get his body clean again.

That night Rogers introduced Asker to John 'Joker' Hammond and Billy Cox and together they played cards. Asker soon learnt that Joker Hammond was aptly named and was a most skilful cardsharp. Although he quickly withdrew from the game he struck up a firm friendship with the gamblers. There was something about Hammond that intrigued him.

The next day Rogers was ordered to report to the captain.

'I'm the new harpoonist!' Rogers shouted excitedly when he returned to the perch.

'Jesus, mate, it sounds bloody dangerous,' Asker warned.

'I'll be right, mate. Don't worry about me. Old O'Brien was a bit over the hill yer know. He shouldn't have got caught like that.'

'Just take it easy, mate.'

For ten days Asker clung alone to his perch high in the rigging. He experienced every kind of weather and discomfort imaginable as the Lady Heriot sailed deep into the Southern Ocean; driving rain, wind, sleet and ice followed by periods of sunshine and calm. He was soaked to the skin and dried again several times a day as well as alternately freezing and sweltering. His hands, feet and lips were cracked from the cold and the skin on his back, shoulders and face was red and blistered from the repeated exposure to the elements. In spite of that, and the fact that he had no say in the matter, Asker loved the challenge. He knew then that, whatever lay in store for him in the future, his life would never be dull.

Chapter 26

Port Jackson

Finally Captain Stanton ordered the ship around onto a northeasterly course and progressively the sea and air got warmer. The sky cleared and from the top of the rigging the long distance visibility was excellent. Andrew Asker scanned the horizon for telltale spouts of water. He saw nothing and began to wonder if he lacked the necessary skills to be a whale spotter.

The next morning Asker scaled the rigging at first light and searched the horizon through the crisp clear air. A strange sight caught his eye. Many miles ahead of the ship he saw what appeared to be a line of brilliantly white clouds sitting almost on the horizon with dark blue-black shadows beneath them. He had never seen anything quite like it before. Thinking that clouds possibly looked different sometimes when viewed from the sea, he said nothing to the crew below. Throughout the morning the ship continued on its northeasterly course, running ahead of a five-knot breeze, occasionally gusting to fifteen or twenty. Instead of drifting with the breeze the clouds seem to get closer.

'Strange lookin' clouds over there,' Asker commented when Billy Cox came up to relieve him. 'Seem t' be goin' against the wind.'

'Ain't clouds, mate. Them is mountains an' snow, mate. Them is the New Zealand Alps.'

'Yer mean South America?'

'No, mate, New Zealand is New Zealand in the Pacific Ocean. Better yell out to the crew.'

Andrew Asker looked down at the small figures working far below them.

'Land ahoy!' he called at the top of his voice.

The next day as they sailed close to the steeply forested slopes of New Zealand's South Island, Andrew sighted another school of sperm whales and the Lady Heriot moved in for the kill. The bull heading the pod was about fifty feet long and once again they took the ship right through the pod to the biggest prize. When they were almost within striking distance the breeze suddenly died and the bull slowly pulled away from them before plunging to the depths. A small cow and calf surfaced right alongside the ship and Ben Rogers waited for the order to fire the harpoon. But Stanton wanted the bull or nothing. Ten minutes later the bull broke the surface again with a thundering blast from its blowhole. This time he was much further away from the ship, but Stanton could be patient when the need arose. It was still early in the day and he expected the breeze to spring up again enabling them to track the beast and then close in for a fight to the death.

Without warning a strange thing happened, taking most of the crew by surprise. The bull, unaware that he was being pursued, surfaced right alongside the ship to have a romantic interlude with a young cow that had surfaced several times. The sailors braced themselves as the ship was lofted sideways in the swell that preceded the rising bull. To add to their discomfort the bull showered the ship and it's rigging with a blast of foul water and vapor from his blowhole.

Ben Rogers fired his first harpoon from point blank range and found his mark. The entire ship's company cheered as the bulls' blood spread quickly across the surface of the sea. The bull soon gave up the fight and the crew eagerly hacked into its blubber and pulled it aboard for processing.

After only three months at sea the holding tanks were full of whale oil and the crew set the sails for the long haul back to Port Jackson. The tanks had been filled in record time and the crew was anxious to celebrate their success by spending a good portion of their prize money in the bars, brothels and gambling houses of Sydney Town.

As the Lady Heriot beat to windward rising on the crests and crashing into the troughs Andrew Asker, with the salt spray in his face and his clothes drenched, smiled with contentment. His misfortune and kidnapping had turned into an exciting adventure and now a financial windfall. The luck of the Askers was changing at last. It wasn't fair that his ma and pa had had to suffer one way or another all their lives. Growing up on the streets and alleyways without their families, stealing to survive and having the shame of being transported for their petty crimes... He marveled at how they never lost their determination and resolve in spite of being taken down by rogues or simply being beaten down by lady luck. It was time for an Asker to get a fair go and he felt good about his future. With a purse full of gold sovereigns, Andrew would have the capital to set himself up in business.

Chapter 27

Asker's Plan

Before they reached Port Jackson, Stanton offered Asker and Rogers's crew positions on the next voyage, but both men wanted to keep their options open. For several years Asker had been nurturing an idea that would help new graziers settle on the remote lands of the New South Wales interior, a region that people were starting to call the 'Outback.' Asker believed that he could turn his experience of exploring and helping move his father's cattle and sheep over the Blue Mountains to his advantage. He wanted to set himself up as a successful mover of livestock across the Outback. New graziers would pay somebody like him to guide them with their herds and flocks over the mountains and plains.

Many of the graziers and squatters had never crossed the mountains before and had little concept of what lay ahead of them. Some graziers simply vanished along with their herds and hired hands in the harsh endless interior. Occasionally new arrivals would stumble on the bones of some earlier unfortunate traveler miles from civilization or the nearest water. When Asker put the idea to Ben Rogers he showed immediate interest.

'How about we do it as partners, mate.' Rogers answered quickly. 'You could show me the ways o' the bush an' outback an' I'd put me cash up with yours. What would we need?'

'Horses for ridin' and carryin' supplies, dogs fer roundin' up the cattle an' keepin' them from strayin', guns for keepin' Abos an' bushrangers at bay.'

'Sounds like yer know what yer doin'. Count me in, mate,' Rogers answered enthusiastically.

'Okay, mate, you're in. Shake on it. We'll call ourselves the Overlanders.'

After the captain had paid them off they walked to Parramatta, still the leading farming community in the colony at the time. They wanted to meet prospective clients, arrange a bank loan and purchase their droving equipment.

At the saleyards they met James King who had recently arrived from England with money to spend on establishing a grazing run in the interior. He knew little about local farming conditions and had neither purchased nor been granted land. Like many others he had decided to locate some good land, settle as a squatter and then register a claim with the Government. Officially land settlement was restricted to twenty coastal counties and the Bathurst region where graziers could lease, buy or be granted land. Successive governors had wanted to confine settlement to an area they could easily control but King, like many of his contemporaries wanted to go beyond the official settlement areas where he would be free to take up land as a squatter. He could be free of government controls and taxes but still have the protection of a registered claim. King had already decided that his vast run, when he found it, would be called Kingsland and to all intents and purposes he would be his own governor and master of all he surveyed.

At first Asker failed to convince him of the perils of going into the outback without expert guidance. Then he hit on an idea. The Overlanders would guide him to the summit of the Blue Mountains free of charge whereupon King could elect to continue alone or accept a contract with Asker. King accepted.

They approached William Browne at the newly established Bank of New South Wales for a loan. Browne listened for about a minute and a half before telling them to take their hair-brained idea somewhere else. Undeterred, they hatched a plan to raise more capital as well as hire the extra men they would need for their first droving expedition.

Chapter 28

A Horse and Wagon

Back in Sydney Town the fledgling drovers headed straight to where the Lady Heriot would soon put to sea again. In the nearby pubs and gambling houses they soon found their former colleagues in varying states of drunkenness and destitution. But at least two of them had stayed reasonably sober and had actually increased their worth at the expense of others. In fact Joker Hammond and Billy Cox had done so well out of their card scams and sleight of hand trickery that they really needed to put some distance between themselves and their hapless victims without delay. In another grog shop on George Street, Asker found two of his old friends from Bathurst. Dan Martin and big Charlie Stenson were both as drunk as lords but Asker knew that both were good tradesmen as well as skilled horsemen so he decided to hire them.

As Andrew Asker led his recruits out of the grog shop he almost collided with Tommy Begley going in.

'Gidday, Begley. Still selling tickets t' nowhere, is yer?' Asker challenged him.

Begley looked as startled as a rat in a chalice of holy water. He tried to push passed Asker but ran straight into the arms of Ben Rogers.

'Where's me money, Begley?' Rogers asked as he shoved Begley against the wall.

'I was tricked by ol' Stanton, too. Yer shoulda asked 'im fer yer money back. Honest. I 'ad no idea what the ol' bugger was up to.'

'Gimme me money!' Rogers repeated loudly as he threw a solid punch into Begley's desperate face.

To his surprise, Begley fought back gamely. He had obviously been in the same situation many times before. Asker waited patiently for his turn as Rogers slogged it out with the rogue.

'Let me take a crack at 'im,' Billy Cox said as he shouldered Rogers aside. 'This is 'ow yer deal with the likes o' 'im.'

Cox landed a series of rapid punches right on the point of his jaw and Begley sank to the ground with his eyes rolled back. A moment later he stirred again and looked at the cluster of angry faces peering down at him.

'Alright! Alright! Yer can 'ave yer money.'

Within minutes all signs of a fight had gone and the men climbed aboard a wagon driven by a wizened old ex-convict who was instructed to proceed to Parramatta without delay.

'Longest fare I's had in a month,' The old man croaked as he went into a coughing fit.

Asker noticed that his beard and breath were liberally laden with tobacco, booze and stale food. His clothes were in tatters and hung loosely from his bony frame. As he coughed and spat Hammond whispered to Cox.

'Jesus! I 'ope 'e don't peg out afore we gets there.'

'Bet 'e could tell a tale or two.'

The old man overheard the last remark.

'Aye, me lad. Came with the First Fleet, I did. Got blown t' 'ell an' back, we did.'

He started coughing again.

'My ma an' pa was First Fleeters and folks ne'er let 'em forget,' Asker said.

'Mine too,' Billy Cox chimed in.

'An' mine,' said Dan Martin. 'Jesus. I'd love a drink, mate.'

'There be plenty o' drink in Parramatta. Might 'ave one me self when we get there,' the old man replied.

'Forget it, mate,' Asker replied in a stern voice. 'There ain't no grog where we're goin' an' we ain't gonna take none with us. So get that right out o' yer heads.'

'Okay, boss.'

Asker turned to the old man again.

'Parramatta be just the start. We're takin' cattle across the Blue Mountains an' into the big beyond. That an' grog be a bad mixture.'

The old man was silent for a moment as the wheels jolted over the ruts.

'If I were a youngun again I'd be right with yer. Me days o' travelin' be well an' truly over. I ain't long fer this world, as yer can no doubt see. Shoulda retired years ago. Trouble was t' get free o' this lot. Know anyone who wants a cart an' some 'orses?'

Asker casually cast his eyes over the horses and wagon. The wagon was in top condition and the horses were young and fit. Everything looked in much better shape and better cared for than the owner. Ben Rogers also quietly eyeballed the team and equipment before their eyes met in silent agreement.

'We'd buy it from yer, Mister, 'cept we ain't got much money.' Asker hoped that he sounded like the poorest man between there and the black stump. 'How much yer be askin'?'

'It's not gonna take much money,' the old man said with a touch of sadness in his voice. 'Just promise t' take good care o' them.'

'Yer can count on us fer that, Mister. How much?'

He thought about it for a long time.

'Well seein' as I likes you fellas an' yer got ambitions an' guts an' all that, I'll let yer 'ave the lot fer five quid.'

'Where does yer live, Mister?' Asker tried not to sound too eager.

'Argyle Street. I's got a nice lil 'ouse there on Argyle Street.'

'Okay, Mister. I might just be able t' scrape together five quid so take us t' Argyle Street an' we'll call it a deal.'

The old driver started another of his coughing fits and spat over the side several times as he turned into Argyle Street. Asker paid him with five shiny gold sovereigns and the old man stepped down from the wagon with great difficulty. Slowly he made his way to the front of the team and spoke fondly to each horse. Then he came back to the side of the wagon again.

'Yer be sure t' take good care o' them, won't yer? They been me pride an' joy.'

'Yer can count on us, Mister.' Asker answered as he quietly wondered if £10 would be a fairer price for the wagon alone. He would only need the horses.

As they turned out of the street they all looked back and waved to the pathetic figure standing alone in the street. Asker then realized that he did not even know the man's name. Suddenly he felt sorry for him. He was certain that the old man was going home to die.

Chapter 29

Arrested

When they got to Parramatta Road the sun was getting low. Charlie Stenson and Dan Martin had fallen into another drunken slumber. Joker Hammond and Billy Cox were wide-awake and keeping a sharp lookout for their likely pursuers who had been cheated at cards, or Begley and company. Asker and Rogers discussed their plans for the cattle droving expedition. Suddenly there was alarm from Hammond and Cox. A horse and rider was galloping towards them from the direction of Sydney Town.

'Quick, mate. Let us off just round the corner an' tell 'em yer ain't ne'er seen us,' Cox pleaded urgently.

Asker reigned in the horses and the two gambling cheats quickly dropped to the ground and faded into the gathering shadows. The wagon was barely under way again when a constable drew alongside them with his pistol drawn.

'Halt or I'll blow yer brains out!' he bellowed at Asker.

'What be the matter?' Asker responded as he brought the horses to a stop again.

'This wagon an' horses be stolen from one John Garside. Ye all be under arrest.'

'Couldn't be. We just bought it from the owner,' Rogers spoke up.

'Oh, yeah. Who'd yer buy it from?'

'Don't know 'is name. An ol' man with a bad cough an' a grubby appearance. Said 'e wanted t' retire,' Asker pleaded.

'Well that ain't John Garside. He don't match that description.'

'Honest as we be here. We paid the man five quid fer the horses and wagon. He said it was 'is an' 'e wanted t' retire.'

'What be yer name?'

'Andrew Sydney Asker.'

'Oh, yeah. I's heard o' Andrew Asker. Yer mean the explorer?'

'That's right, constable.'

'Well, mate, I don't believe anything yer say. Now 'ere's what yer do. Yer turn this wagon round an' head back t' Sydney Town an' don't try t' make no run fer it cos I'll 'ave this pointed at yer brain box all the way. Understand?'

'Yes, sir.'

'You be makin' a big mistake, constable,' Rogers intervened. 'This be Andrew Asker, the explorer, an' 'e did buy the horses and wagon from the man 'e described. He ain't never stole it.'

The constable swiveled slowly in his saddle to face Rogers and suddenly he swung the pistol until Rogers was looking straight down the barrel.

'Now yer listen 'ere, sonny boy. If yer interrupt one more time I's gonna blow your brains out first.'

Rogers stared back in shocked silence.

'So just turn this wagon round, Asker, if that's who yer are, and let's go back t' Sydney Town.'

Just then Charlie Stenson stirred from his drunken sleep and raised his head over the sideboard.

'What we be stopped fer Andy? Who's the fella on the horse?'

The constable swung quickly in his saddle again and pointed his weapon at Stenson.

'Yer be under arrest fer stealin' the 'orses and wagon. What's yer name?'

Stenson looked around lethargically but Asker knew that his old friend was a hard man to take by surprise. He was also a solid individual when it came to loyalty to his mates.

'Only thing I knows, mate, is I needs a piss,' said Stenson casually.

Ignoring the pistol, Stenson lowered himself from the wagon and staggered off into the shadows. Joker Hammond lowered himself from the other side and Asker knew it was a set-up.

'Yeah. A piss be what I need too,' Joker declared as he swayed away from the wagon in the opposite direction to Stenson.

'I's tellin' yer constable we ain't stole nothin'.' Asker focused on keeping the constable's attention. 'We bought the rig an' 'orses from an' ol' man like I described. We paid 'im five quid an' as far as we be concerned we own it now an' we're not goin' nowhere what we don't wanna go.'

For the first time the constable showed conciliatory signs.

'Well the man yer describe certainly ain't John Garside. Sounds more like Jimmy Elder up t' 'is old tricks. By now 'e's probably spendin' yer five quid in a grog shop. Been in an' out o' trouble fer years, that ol' critter. Even so I's still gotta take yer all back to Sydney Town cos I'll 'ave t' take statements from yer all an' then you'll 'ave to appear in court as witnesses, or as accused.'

'Come t' think of it. That ol' man was just too good t' be true. A pair o' fine 'orses and a good wagon fer just five quid. I think we've been duped,' Asker replied as he watched his would-be drovers in his peripheral vision.

Asker kept on talking while Hammond and Stenson moved into position behind the constable. When Hammond could see that Stenson's big hands were in position about two inches below the constable's stirrup he gave the horse a hard slap on the rump. Hammond's timing was perfect. As the horse bolted its rider shot up in the air, his pistol discharging wildly into space as he went. An instant later he hit the back of his head on the dusty road and lost consciousness. When he recovered a few minutes later his pistol had been emptied into the bushes at the side of the road and six muscular young men surrounded him. Charlie Stenson, unable to resist a bit of clowning, bent over the recumbent copper.

'Hey, ain't you the fella I was talkin' to before I went for a piss?'

'You're the one who jumped me. I could arrest you for that,' the constable said trying to establish his authority again. When he saw the circle of faces looking down at him he realized that he was powerless.

Stenson placed his large boot firmly on the trooper's chest.

'Now before yer get any ideas beyond yer means maybe yer should listen to what me mate has to say to yer.'

'Like we told yer, constable,' Andrew said. 'We ain't stolen nothin' an' we ain't goin' nowhere with you. If yer 'ave a problem between yer John Garside an' Jimmy Elder, or whatever their names be, that be up t' you. But when yer see Mr Jimmy Elder yer could tell the ol' fart 'e owes me five quid. Meanwhile why doesn't yer just take Garside's property an' clear orf with it?'

The constable stared at them in disbelief for a moment and then slowly tried to stand up when Charlie Stenson removed his foot. Billy Cox confidently reached down and roughly grabbed a handful of his clothing to help him onto the wagon. As the constable drove away the six men continued on foot for another hour and then slept the night under some trees before continuing to Parramatta. They purchased a horse and dog for each man, pack horses, axes, knives, guns, rope, blankets and food. Charlie and Dan were fully recovered and dried out and already shaping up as worthwhile team members. By sundown the Overlanders were ready for their first expedition. As they settled down for another night Asker turned to Charlie Stenson.

'Thanks for yer initiative last night, mate.'

Big Charlie grinned for a moment before answering.

'That's what mates is for, mate.'

Chapter 30

The Drovers, 1827

The next morning they moved out of their temporary camp with James King's party and two hundred head of cattle. The going was slow as they skirted around other herds and isolated settlements. Asker always rode ahead to survey the route and look for grazing pastures, water, places to cross rivers and places to camp at night. The first day they covered just five or six miles and it took several days to reach the Blue Mountains.

Two weeks after leaving Parramatta they started descending the treacherous western escarpment near the fledgling village of Lithgow. They lost three beasts when they lost their footing and fell to their deaths. Each time that happened, if the carcasses were within easy reach, the drovers cut enough meat from them to last several days. But those episodes did not please King in the slightest.

'I dunno what 'e's moaning about. He's still got a hundred an' ninety-seven left,' Hammond said.

'Shit, lads, we've got a mathotist or somethin' in our midst,' Ben Rogers said.

'No good playin' cards fer money if yer can't count an' do a sum or two in yer head. Even if yer can't read much more than what be printed on the cards,' Hammond retorted.

Finally they reached the easier slopes and turned their charges to the north to continue through mostly uninhabited country on the western side of the Great Divide. Asker raised the matter of the droving contract again with King and agreement was reached to continue with revised terms. Payment was to be from Lithgow only. Well at least they were earning money, Asker told himself. He felt that his generation of Askers would be more fortunate than the first. His father would have been proud of him now if only he was still alive. He thought of his mother too, now that he was so close to Bathurst where she was seeing out the twilight years of her life alone. The forty miles to Bathurst and back again could have been easily covered in two days of riding but he dared not while his team lacked droving and bush experience. It was so near and yet so far.

As they continued they found little evidence of Aboriginal occupation and concluded that the white man's diseases and aggression had pushed them further into the interior. They constantly wondered what kind of reception they might expect when they eventually encountered the natives as they drove two hundred cattle through their territory.

The drovers moved the mob steadily forward in a Northwest direction and gradually the rolling hills and valleys gave way to the vast plains of the interior. The men and the horses and dogs soon got into a routine and on most days they covered six to eight miles at a leisurely pace, allowing ample time for grazing and detouring for water.

At night Asker took particular care to select campsites away from likely flood areas yet close to watering and grazing places. He remembered all too clearly the Bathurst flood that had put his father off the land for the rest of his life. He knew that a storm in one region could cause sudden and severe flooding hundreds of miles away where the sun had been shining continuously. He was also careful to avoid anything that could frighten the cattle into a stampede or rush during the night. Each afternoon when a suitable site was found the men would erect a rope brake around the herd to contain them and they would take two hour shifts riding around the outside of the brake throughout the night. Asker referred to these riders as 'ringers' and a good ringer always spoke to the cattle in gentle soothing tones as he did his rounds. Asker often sang or recited verse to the cattle so that they would know he was near. Whenever his memory failed to provide a popular song or verse he would simply create one of his own to keep the reassuring monologue flowing.

The ringers ride through the cold an' starry night,

Ridin' round the darkened Outback cattle brake,

Gently soothin' the cattle lest they all take flight,

Till the kookaburras laugh and the camp be awake.

Chapter 31

The Outback

A week after the last hilltops had fallen below the distant horizon in the east they came to a large billabong, which Asker believed would provide a permanent supply of good water. As far as they could see in every direction there was excellent grazing grass and a liberal distribution of eucalyptus trees for shade and the construction of buildings and fences. While the cattle and the men rested Asker, an increasingly taciturn King and his son Bertie, explored the surrounding countryside. They found additional creeks and billabongs and grazing land that extended for many days in every direction. James King seemed well satisfied with his discovery, but said little.

Later back at the camp Asker signaled the end of the cattle drive to his men.

'This be Kingsland and the King has arrived.'

'Now we gotta hold 'im to the deal,' Billy Cox said. 'And I's got a suspicion it ain't gonna be easy.'

'We'll see,' Asker said and he approached King with a firm set to his jaw.

'Nothing doing!' King responded flatly. 'Your men lost too many animals and you butchered others for meat.'

'That was part of the deal and you helped us eat the meat. Some animals died from sickness and accidents. Another died in a stampede for water. Yer can't blame us fer that, Mr King.'

'Well you're not getting paid and that's that.'

'If you'd set out without us you'd 'ave lost the bloody lot. With us the cost was ten outta two hundred. My men wanna be paid.'

King glared at him and took a step forward.

'Get off my land!'

Asker stood his ground.

'Yer never intended to pay us from the start. Well, yer can keep yer land, King, but we're gonna keep the cattle. They've arrived in good condition an' we'll get a good price for 'em.' Asker told him as he started to saddle up his horse again. 'Then we'll see how long you an' yer lads can last in the bush.'

King took a step towards his wagon but froze as the crack of a gunshot echoed through the trees.

'The next shot will go between yer poxy eyeballs,' Charlie Stenson warned him in a tone as cold as steel.

From another direction, Ben Rogers spoke in an equally chilling tone.

'Your shot and mine will no doubt collide right behind 'is friggin' eyeballs.'

Bertie King made a dash for the wagon and a weapon but stopped just as suddenly when Dan Martin stepped around the end of the wagon with a firearm pointed straight at Bertie's head. The squatters were clearly outnumbered and outgunned by the drovers.

'All right! I'll pay.'

King senior held his hands up to indicate total surrender.

Asker ignored the squatter.

'I want all their weapons,' he ordered.

Two men searched for weapons while two others kept the Kings covered. Ben Rogers prepared the horses for a quick departure.

'Take yer time, Ben,' Asker said as he tried to sound very casual even though his knees seemed to be knocking together. 'I ain't too worried about bein' chased by dead men.'

'Wait!' King pleaded desperately. 'I'll pay. I always intended to pay.'

'Yeah. I know, mate. You'll pay us with gunshot in the arse as we ride away,' Asker countered.

'That would be murder, Mr Asker.' Bertie said. 'We're not going to murder anybody.'

Asker rounded on him, eyes blazing fiercely.

'Yer right, mate. Yer ain't gonna murder anybody. But we will. Like yer pa says, out 'ere there ain't no law except the law o' the gun. An' when we've gunned yer down like billabong rats we's gonna 'ave ourselves a fine herd o' cattle an' a big station beyond the back o' beyond where there's no government, no taxes, an' no hangin' fer murder.'

'How are yer goin' to explain our disappearance?' King demanded.

Dan Martin put an arm over his forehead as though shielding his eyes from the sun. Quickly, with his gun still trained on the Kings he searched the horizon all around.

'What folks is gonna know you've disappeared?' he asked with a victorious grin.

'I'll pay! I'll pay!' King pleaded meekly. 'You'll find my sovereign purse at the front o' the wagon under the buckboard. Take everything I owe yer.'

'And a few extra fer danger money,' Hammond interjected.

'All right! All right! Take an extra quid each.'

Billy Cox laughed.

'An extra two quid each.'

'All right. An extra two quid each.' James King's voice was turning to a feeble croak.

'Yer done a jackass thing, Mr King,' Charlie Stenson said. 'When me mate Andrew Asker be double crossed 'e gets as mad as a gum tree full o' galahs.'

Asker eyed the Kings coldly as he nervously mounted his horse. His legs felt like jelly.

'Just stay right 'ere after we're gone. If yer try to follow yer gonna be dead meat fer dingoes. Wait an hour an' you'll find yer horses an' guns at the last billabong.'

Chapter 32

The Bank Manager

Asker made sure that the Kings would have to search for the guns thereby wasting valuable time in the event that they planned to pursue the Overlanders. As an additional precaution Asker and his men rode south until sundown and then turned to the east and continued riding in moonlight. Sometime after midnight they rested for several hours when the moon was hidden by cloud cover.

'I wanna thank you fellas for a job well done,' Asker told his men. 'It's been a hard slog but we done it. As fer King, well, you fellas certainly sorted him out.'

'No trouble, boss,' Stenson said. 'Been a pleasure.'

As they settled down for a few hours sleep Asker thought about his big mate, Charlie Stenson. In spite of his often gruff exterior he was a good bloke and a bit of a gentle giant.

At first light they rode on again until during the heat of the day they found a cluster of shady trees to rest under. Believing that they had lost the Kings, they decided to stay until the next morning.

'What's the plan, boss?' Dan Martin asked as he settled down in the shade.

'Nearer to the coast we might find a grazier or two who has some fattened cattle to drive to market. I think we should head that way.'

The other men gathered around as Asker used a stick to scratch a map out of the dust. They listened intently while he told them of the country he had seen with the explorers inland from Port Macquarie.

The next morning they came to a major river flowing southwest towards the interior. They followed the river upstream for several days and in the foothills of the Great Divide they found fertile lands but no sign of graziers, cattle or sheep. Two weeks later they crossed the Great Divide and started down the eastern slopes experiencing scorching days and sultry nights. Then, in a wide and open valley, they saw cattle grazing. The cattle were in prime condition and almost ready for slaughter. For two days they searched the valley for a homestead until they came upon the primitive shack of the grazier and his Aboriginal wife hidden from view by a cluster of trees.

The grazier was impressed with their experience and enterprise and agreed to accompany them to Parramatta with the best three hundred cattle out of a herd of six hundred. A droving fee was agreed to and within a week the animals were mustered and drafted and the convoy set out for Parramatta with additional ringers recruited from the local Aboriginal population.

Once again they experienced some cattle losses crossing the mountains and traveling through the dry interior, but Asker preferred to go that way rather than attempt the numerous crossings of the major rivers that flowed into the sea from the eastern slopes. The horses, dogs and cattle were all capable of swimming most rivers but the danger often lay in the difficult banks on each side. When they reached Parramatta four months later, they delivered the herd to a cattle buyer who paid cash to the grazier and the next day Asker received his droving fee.

It was late in the day when Asker was finally able to pay his men from an account that he had opened at the Bank of New South Wales. He was keen to secure another droving contract before his men had a chance to get to Sydney where he expected they would go on a drunken, gambling, whoring binge around the town. After that anything could happen. They could all finish up in the lock-up, or at sea on a whaler. He could sense some uneasiness as they settled down for the night with their horses and dogs on the edge of town.

The next morning a messenger arrived with word that William Browne, the manager at the Bank of New South Wales, wanted them to call. Asker and Rogers rode into town and went to the bank.

Browne, although not apologizing for earlier declining to lend them money, explained that all applicants for loans needed to have experience in their chosen field as well as collateral security to guarantee repayment of the loan. The two drovers looked at each other for an explanation.

'The way things is now, we don't need a loan no more,' Asker replied in a confident tone. 'Besides we've got horses, dogs and ringers for cow-lateral security.'

'Of course. Of course,' Browne said quickly without giving even the slightest sign of a smile. 'But there is another matter that may be of interest, gentlemen.'

The two exchanged another quick glance and settled onto their chairs again. So now they were gentlemen. They waited for Browne to continue.

'So tell me, gentlemen, about your next client. What's his name?'

'You mean our next grazier?'

'Yes. Who is he?'

'Ah, well... We ain't actually got one yet... We only got into town a couple o' days ago, Mr Browne. We thought we'd rest for a bit first,' Rogers replied with some hesitation.

'Well you may be interested in the bank's possible change of policy with regard to graziers and squatters. It's an extremely risky business lending them money. There are just so many things that can go wrong. The animals can starve and die. A grazier can simply vanish into the outback with the bank's money. Without fences and hedgerows, like in the old country, the animals can just wander away and get lost. Many are not branded. There's bushrangers and cattle duffers...'

'But that's where we're the experts, Mr Browne. As I said, we knows all about cow-literal security,' Asker interjected.

Browne continued quite unfazed.

'The bank is going to demand that settlers moving cattle over vast distances must use the services of experienced drovers, such as yourselves, and that's what I want to talk to you about.'

Browne looked through the window to where his assistant was working and then he leaned forward and lowered his voice.

'I can refer the graziers to you in return for a small fee, or commission, say ten per cent, which you could deliver to me at a nominated meeting place when you return for your next contract.'

He looked at the two young men in silence for a moment while he let the proposal sink in.

'So you're saying for each ten quid we earn we should give one to you?' Asker asked with a raised eyebrow.

'That's right, gentlemen.'

'What for?'

'So that you will always have a regular supply of clients and so that I can supplement my miserable income. The bank is never over generous with the salaries that it pays.'

'We couldn't afford that, Mr Browne. We already have costs we 'ave to take care of. We'd go broke,' Rogers replied and Asker nodded in agreement.

'I understand, gentlemen. Add the extra cost onto your fee. Who's going to know the difference?' Browne continued undeterred.

'We'd know, Mr Browne,' Asker replied with a trace of alarm in his voice, 'and the graziers would soon know that we was charging too much. They'd stop dealing with us.'

'It was just a suggestion, gentlemen.' Browne stood up to indicate that the meeting was finished. 'Good luck and remember the bank's door is always open to men of enterprise.'

From the bank they made straight for the saleyards, confident that a multitude of would-be graziers would be lined up waiting to take advantage of their expert services. Unfortunately another team, calling themselves the Begley Drovers, had entered the business in competition with the Overlanders. Their old antagonist and trickster, Tommy Begley, was the man behind the new venture and Begley had already agreed to pay commission to Browne and the cattle agents.

Chapter 33

A New Client

A whole month went by before the Overlanders agreed that they would have to make commission payments if they were to get work. Meanwhile Begley was becoming well established with several teams of drovers driving herds across the mountains and into various parts of the interior. Begley never crossed the mountains himself but directed his operations from Sydney and Parramatta.

'Had a change of heart, gentlemen?' Browne asked poignantly when they called to see him again.

'Yer could say that, Mr Browne,' Asker replied in a conciliatory tone.

'I'm pleased you gentlemen see it that way, after all you are the most experienced team.' Browne smiled warmly. 'I'm expecting a visit from a client this morning who has purchased two thousand Hereford cattle subject to the bank granting him a loan. Could you gentlemen handle two thousand cattle?'

'We sure could, Mr Browne,' Asker and Rogers answered in unison.

'Good. Come back in an hour.'

'Thank you, Mr Browne.'

When they returned to the bank Browne introduced them to Pat Henderson, a successful property owner, businessman and son of a free settler. The Hendersons were well known around town. He wanted to move out with his cattle as soon as possible and Asker and Rogers went with him to examine the herd and talk over the details. Later when the Overlanders were alone they talked again about the ethics of paying commission.

'I ain't never gonna be completely in favor of it,' Asker said thoughtfully.

'I know what yer mean, Andrew. But we don't 'ave no choice, do we?' Rogers replied with a touch of realism.

'Browne must be the only man in the whole colony that can genuinely smile all the way to the bank,' Joker Hammond added dryly.

Asker smiled as he thought about that and shifted his eyes from Hammond to Cox and back again.

'Yeah. Bit like a couple o' slick gamblers that we know.'

'At least we'll be back in work again an' that bloody crook, Begley, ain't gonna get it all 'is own way no more.'

'Me convict heart bleeds fer the bastard,' Billy Cox said with a chuckle.

Dan Martin summed up the situation neatly.

'Henderson gets 'is cattle moved, the bank gets its interest, Browne gets 'is bit on the side and we gets our drovin' fee and who could complain about that, 'cept Begley?'

There was a brief pause while the men quietly thought about it. Then someone started to chuckle and the chuckle quickly spread to become an infectious, side-splitting, bout of rollicking laughter. It was a relief to have work as well as being one up on Begley. After a few minutes Asker brought them back to reality again.

'Righto, you lazy buggers. We can't sit around 'ere all day like our arses be studded with diamonds. We got work to do.'

Chapter 34

A Python

In the days following their meetings with Browne and Henderson, they hired additional ringers and purchased extra horses, dogs and provisions and for the first time they had a dedicated cook. The outlook was bright.

Pat Henderson had his mind set on becoming a squatter on the banks of a major inland river where the water supply would be permanent even though the land in that area might be harsh. He reasoned that his cattle could eat almost anything but without a permanent water supply they would be doomed. Henderson's route to the interior would take them right passed Bathurst and Asker was determined to make time to visit his mother.

The road over the Blue Mountains still followed the original track pioneered by Wentworth, Blaxland, Lawson and Nathaniel Asker years earlier. As work on the road continued it was becoming one of the colony's busier roads. The Overlanders sometimes had to wait while other mobs of cattle and sheep were being herded into the Outback or driven to Parramatta or Sydney for slaughter.

At night they had to take particular care because an unruly mob could easily start a disastrous rush in the dark. It was an important time for the ringers. There was also a constant danger from cattle duffers who would steal unbranded cattle to run with their own, or to kill for meat. However the greatest threat came from bushrangers, usually escaped convicts, who frequently held up drovers and coaches, stealing what they wanted and murdering their victims in cold blood. The Overlanders had already had several encounters with bushrangers in which shots were fired but nobody injured.

Deadly snakes and spiders were another constant worry for the men when they rolled themselves up in their swags at night and slept under the stars. As the nights became colder at the end of summer these venomous critters would sometimes find their way into a man's swag where they would sleep quite contentedly until the legitimate occupant stirred.

Asker opened his eyes one morning and gazed sleepily at the first light in the eastern sky. He was on his back. His hands were clasped in front of his belly. He moved his eyes first with a slow sweep from horizon to horizon. It was going to be another beautiful day. When he was about to move his limbs into life, he suddenly froze. There was something between his clasped hands and his belly that was too long to be his penis. In an instant Asker recoiled in mortal terror, hurling a dreamy python clear of the swag in a split second. His terrorized scream brought the whole camp awake in time to see the reptile slither away in the long grass.

Chapter 35

Lightning

Two days after the incident with the snake Asker and Charlie Stenson were riding a mile or two ahead of the mob in the early afternoon. He often chose Charlie to accompany him on the advance guard because he was such a loyal friend. They had just skirted around Meadow Flat where another mob was grazing when the sky started to darken. A giant cumulo-nimbus cloud progressively spread itself from horizon to horizon.

'I reckon when we're done with this business I'd like to find a nice woman an' settle down,' Asker said.

'It's about the best thing a man can do,' Charlie replied.

'Why ain't you settled down with a woman, Charlie? There ain't many to pick an' chose from in the colony, but I reckon you'd get one easy.'

Stenson rode on in silence for a moment.

'I had a grand little woman from Bathurst. I really believed we was gonna spend the rest of our days together...'

'What happened?'

'Childbirth, mate. First little babe... Lost 'em both.'

'I'm sorry, mate. I should've minded me own business.'

'I can talk about it now, but at the time I just wanted to die.'

He turned his face up to look at the cloud. It continued to grow and the sky continued to darken. Much-needed rain would soon be falling. The first large drops landed on their perspiring bodies as a brilliant fork of lightning shot earthwards less than a mile away.

'What was her name?'

'Eliza. She was beautiful.'

Almost at the same instant the first crack of thunder sounded right over their heads. Asker and Stenson each patted their horse's neck and spoke to them in comforting tones. The dogs cowered close to the horses. In seconds both riders were soaked to their skins and Asker remembered the storm that struck Bathurst when the family first moved there. Since then he had been caught in many storms as an explorer and drover and he still had an abiding fear of them.

As they rode onward, avoiding the scattered trees as much as possible, the storm intensified. Lightning forked down to the earth, thunder rolled through the heavens and the wind-driven rain peppered the hands and faces of the drovers. A few yards away another blinding flash and simultaneous, ear-splitting crack of thunder shattered a large Stringybark tree. An instant later it erupted in flames. Asker turned and shouted at Stenson.

'Jesus! Look at...'

Before he could finish, the next flash turned Stenson and his mount into an inferno, fixing both momentarily in an eerie light. It seemed an eternity before horse and rider slowly collapsed to the ground. Asker watched in horror as the flames, dowsed by the heavy rain, slowly subsided. The horse, dog and his mate Charlie Stenson, were dead.

Asker was stunned. For a long time, while the rain tumbled down and the thunder and lightning played out its drama, he sat open mouthed on his horse and stared blankly at the bodies. It brought back the horrible memories of the sudden death of Ginalong in the bush of the North Coast so long ago. It was another tragic waste. If there really was a God in Heaven, he asked himself, and if He was the creator of all things, why did He also have to create such horrible tragedies for decent folks? Sometime later, without dismounting, he turned his horse and rode back to find the other drovers.

Ben Rogers ordered the ringers to put the cattle brake in place for the night and one man volunteered to stay with the cattle while the rest of the team followed Asker to the scene of the tragedy. They discovered to their horror that in the two hours since Stenson had died natures scavengers had already been at work on his remains. Working as quickly as they could in the oppressive heat the men dug a grave and lowered Charlie into it, with each man paying his own personal tribute.

'So long, ol' mate. We's sure gonna miss yer,' Asker said sadly.

'Yer was a good pal,' Dan Martin said with moist eyes. 'I know yer once asked for yer remains to be anointed with rum. But we ain't got none out 'ere. Sorry, ol' mate.'

Martin paused for a moment and then quietly rubbed his eyes as he stepped back from the shallow hole and Billy Cox stepped reverently forward.

'Probably just as well we ain't got no rum, ol' mate. It be so scarce round 'ere, if we 'ad some to sprinkle on yer, we'd 'ave 'ad to strain it through our kidneys first. Guess yer wouldn't want that.'

'Farewell, Charlie, me ol' mate,' Joker Hammond announced solemnly. 'I'd bet any man ten quid you're goin' to a better place.'

After each man had said his farewell Asker placed Stenson's dog alongside him and they covered the two of them over. The horse was left where it had fallen.

Chapter 36

George Street

On the outskirts of Bathurst the Overlanders made camp near a small creek in a scattering of shady trees. The cook prepared an early dinner of salt beef and damper while the ringers erected the cattle brake. Asker announced a two-night stay at the site and left Rogers in charge while he walked to the frontier town. It was dusk when he arrived at the small house on George Street. He whistled a happy tune as he approached.

'Cooee! I be home, ma,' he shouted as he stepped into the half-light of the small parlor.

Isobel stirred from a light sleep in an old wicker chair in a corner.

'Andrew!' she exclaimed jubilantly. 'You've come home at last, me boy. Can't see yer real good in this light but yer voice ne'er changes. Has yer still got yer lovely fair hair an' blue eyes?'

'Don't know, ma. Can't see 'em me self. How's yer keepin', ma?'

'Apart from me age, got nothin' t' complain about,' she said as she struggled to get out of the chair. He gave her his hand and helped her up. She went to the old wooden table and lit the candle.

'Now let me take a look at yer,' she said as she turned his face towards the light. 'Aye! You've grown into a handsome young man, Andrew, me lad. Yer pa would've been right proud o' yer.'

They sat talking for many hours about his travels and the family as the candle slowly melted to a small stub. Long ago she had accepted that her children had to go their own ways in order to survive in the harsh world of colonial Australia and she had never expected any of them to ever return except Andrew, the adventurer. They talked about Nathaniel and about London. Then he told her about Charlie Stenson and Ginalong and the loneliness and sorrow that he had experienced after she died.

'Yer won't ne'er forget her but in time the pain will be easier to bear.' For a moment she squinted at him in the flickering light. 'There ain't no reason why a strong an' handsome young man like you shouldn't be sharin' 'is life with a lass an' raisin' a family.'

'There ain't no lasses where cattle drovers go, ma. The lasses be all in Sydney Town an' even then its one lass fer every four men. But I promise yer one day I'll be lookin'.'

They talked for another hour until Isobel drifted off to sleep in her wicker chair while Andrew sat cross-legged on the floor the way he always did in the drover's camp. The candle burned down to the end and slowly the flame was extinguished. Outside the moon had risen and shone brightly through the small high window. It shone right onto Isobel. She looked much older than he remembered her but she looked peaceful so he decided to leave her sleeping in the chair. He found a blanket and gently placed it round her before spreading out his drover's swag on the floor.

The raucous sound crows, kookaburras and rosellas in the trees and the first rays of sunshine woke Andrew early as usual. But there was another sound that caused him concern. Outside in the neglected garden, his mother was having a coughing fit. He found her using the veranda rail for support as she coughed uncontrollably. In the daylight she looked frail and tired. Her bones were almost breaking through her wrinkled old skin and her eyes had sunk back into her head. Finally she stopped coughing.

'There ain't much t' eat, Andrew. I don't need much these days,' she explained.

'I'll get something from the trading post,' he offered, and then asked about the second house.

'It's empty now. Mr Barker had t' close the school an' move elsewhere fer work. I ain't been able t' rent it or sell it. The town's slowly but surely dyin' an' folks is movin' away.'

She started coughing again and Andrew quietly went inside the little cottage to see what she needed from the trading post. The house was almost empty. Later in the day a horse and dray delivered a supply of food, cooking pots, dishes, clothes, blankets and a new bed. Then he started work on restoring the vegetable garden to its former productive state. Just before sundown he left her some gold sovereigns and made his way back to the drover's camp, promising to visit again after delivering Henderson's cattle.

Chapter 37

The Inland Sea

The weeks turned to months and the drovers moved Henderson's cattle steadily westward covering the usual five to eight miles a day. But as the land progressively became flatter and more featureless, good grazing and water became harder to find and many of the creeks and smaller rivers had dried up. At times they had to drive the animals up to thirty miles a day just to reach drinking water. The animals started losing condition and Asker became worried. Henderson was determined to press on in the expectation that eventually they would discover the fabled inland sea, which he was sure, would be surrounded by vast areas of fertile land.

Disaster was averted by a chance meeting with the explorers, Charles Sturt and Hamilton Hume who were returning after discovering the Darling River. Further west they said was only poor grazing land and only a small amount of salty water. Henderson decided to turn northeast and found a suitable site for his homestead and run near the Castlereagh River. The area had good water, grazing and an abundance of wildlife.

The Overlanders rested for three days before setting out on the long trek back to Bathurst. Isobel's health had deteriorated in the months that Andrew Asker had been away and it was obvious that she was nearing the end of her life. But with his close friends, Ben Rogers Dan Martin and Joker Hammond, he set about replanting the garden again and doing repairs on the house. They talked until late each night about her, Nathaniel and their children and Bathurst. Isobel told them about the people who had left the town including her close friends and neighbors, Jack and Mary Smythe and their young daughter, Ruby. They had gone back to Sydney where Jack expected to get work on the ships. When it was time for Andrew and his friends to leave it was a sad moment. He was certain that he would never see his mother again.

Browne had another grazier waiting for their services when they returned to Parramatta and there was a fattened mob almost ready to be brought back to Parramatta on their return journey. Browne also told them that Tommy Begley, who had married a daughter of Ernest Handley, had been murdered by some of his drovers when he failed to pay their wages. Asker hired Begley's stockmen and his business grew and prospered even though many other teams of drovers operated in competition with the Overlanders.

The work was hard and required a special kind of rugged individual who could survive in the harshest outdoor conditions for months on end without the conveniences of town life or the closeness of family and wives. For some of the men it was a wonderful life, while the operation went smoothly, but for all there was the constant worry of droughts, floods, storms, accidents, sickness, a variety of lethal critters, or death from thirst or starvation. In spite of the dangers, Asker felt distinctly different from town people after so long in the outback. It was always difficult for him to communicate and make friends, especially with the opposite sex. He felt uncomfortable in their presence. Never-the-less, whenever he returned to Sydney, he would make all the hardships seem worthwhile by treating himself to the luxury of a hotel room, a real bath, a luxurious bed and meals at a real table complete with silver cutlery, tablecloth, napkins and a menu of the finest foods. Naturally during these extravagant indulgences he would consume a quantity of the best liquor.

Chapter 38

The Drovers Return

Ten years after the Overlanders pioneered professional cattle droving in New South Wales and a year after their last visit the drovers were back in Sydney again. As always, Asker was with his closest friends Ben Rogers and Dan Martin. It was time to relax and renew their acquaintanceship with civilization.

They dumped their swags in their single rooms at Watson's Hotel and, after each man had taken time to soak in the bath, they went to drink some beer with the other stockmen. With the arrival of Browne the four of them went to the dining room for dinner and an attractive young waitress took them to a table. Asker was smitten from the moment he first saw her but his taciturn nature stopped him from doing anything other than look.

Browne, with a mischievous smile on his face, leaned over the table and lowered his voice.

'Do you like her, Andy?'

Asker's face reddened with embarrassment as he wondered what he could say. Out in the bush with his men he could always join in the conversation on any subject, even conversations about women. But here in this grand dining room with gentlemen, their ladies and a lovely waitress present, it was all too intimidating for him.

'She's nice,' he managed in a discreet whisper.

Browne leaned a few inches further forward with a sparkle in his eyes.

'For the usual commission I could arrange an introduction.'

Asker immediately looked hurt.

'You don't mean she's a...?' He was too embarrassed to finish the question.

'Oh, no. At least I don't think she's one of them... No. I'm certain she's not. But I could still arrange an introduction for a small fee.'

'Jesus, Browne! Yer get enough out o' us as it is,' Asker chuckled discreetly and then added, 'She'd be far too nice fer a bloke like me.'

Ben Rogers studied the girl for a moment.

'She's nice but she's probably got a man who could eat yer fer breakfast.'

Asker opened his mouth to speak again and quickly changed his mind as the waitress approached the table to take their orders. While they waited for their dinner the talk turned inevitably to droving, the places they had been and the affairs of men and the colony, with Asker holding back from most of the talk. His mind and eyes were elsewhere.

'Do yer really know the waitress?' Asker whispered to Browne.

'No. But you know me, Andy. If I want something I just ask for it.'

Just then the waitress approached their table with plates of food and Browne cleared his throat.

'Thank you, miss. What's your name?'

'Ruby, sir,' she said as she looked quickly over her shoulder in case Watson was listening.

'Nice to meet you, Ruby. I'm William and this is Andrew, Ben and Dan.'

Ruby's face flushed and her eyes darted towards the door to the kitchen again. This was obviously Asker's big opportunity and he knew he had to say something that was friendly, intelligent, humorous and complimentary. It had to be all of those things. He tried to think quickly. Close up she was stunningly beautiful.

'Nice weather ain't it?' he blurted awkwardly.

'Same as yesterday, sir,' she said quickly and hurried away to the kitchen as her face reddened a little more. Asker cursed himself silently. What a stupid thing to say!

Chapter 39

Ruby

When the meal was finished Asker handed over Browne's payment for the last three droving operations and when Browne walked to his house the other three went in search of more drink. Later they found Hammond and Cox surrounded by losing gamblers in a den at the back of another hotel. They were on a winning streak and about to overstay their welcome. At any time the session could turn nasty. Asker winked at Rogers and Martin and they quietly slipped out onto the street again. In another bar they had several more drinks and left in high spirits. They were ready to take on the world. Then they saw Ruby walking along the street towards them.

'Gidday, Ruby. Where's yer goin'?' Andrew asked.

'Home, sir,' she replied in a formal tone as though she was still in the dining room. He noticed that she seemed to give him a quick appraisal.

'There ain't no sirs round 'ere, Ruby,' Asker said with increasing confidence. 'Like our mate said, I'm Andrew and this is Ben and Dan.'

'Mr Watson says I must always speak proper to 'is guests.'

'We'll just 'ave t' tell the ol' fart t' loosen up, or we'll take our custom elsewhere,' Dan Martin countered with a laugh.

'No, please don't. I'd lose me job.'

'Where do yer live, Ruby?' Asker was trying hard to think of things to say. Jesus, she's gorgeous, he thought.

'Windmill Street, sir... I mean Andrew.' She smiled meekly at her own change of heart.

Asker gained confidence quickly, fortified by alcohol and early success.

'Tell yer what, Ruby. We won't breathe a word t' ol' Watson if yer let me walk to yer house with yer.'

'Really?' She sounded surprised.

'Sure. With all the beggars an' villains these days it ain't safe fer a lass on 'er own.'

She looked up at him with a cheeky smile.

'An' what about folks what's been drinkin'?'

Quickly Asker threw his head back and looked up and down the empty street.

'Who? Where?' he asked as he turned back to Ruby.
'Anyway me ma says drinkin' be a slow death.'

'I agree, Ruby. Who wants t' die fast anyway?'

As Ruby and Andrew talked on the corner neither of them noticed that Ben and Dan had quietly retreated to another bar and when Asker turned towards Windmill Street Ruby happily trotted alongside him with two quick steps to each of his lanky Outback strides.

'Do yer always drink lots?'

'Only when we're in town with nothin' better t' do. Often its months, even a year between town visits. We 'ave a rule – no grog when we're workin'. Yer see, when the beer be in, the brain be out.'

She chuckled at his strange humor. He was a lovely man. His blond hair, blue eyes and lovely smile made him very handsome. He was very tall and he had a strong muscular body, a perfectly shaped face and lovely sun-tanned skin. She could not remember meeting anyone quite like him before. As they turned into Windmill Street the sound of children crying came from a small, dilapidated house. They paused to listen for a moment. A woman's voice could be heard trying to comfort them.

'Ne'er mind lil ones. Yer pa will be 'ome from the sea soon an' then there be food an' medicine again. Hush now an' go t' sleep.'

'That's Mrs. Milligan,' Ruby said sadly. 'She ain't got the heart t' tell 'em 'e ain't gonna be comin' 'ome ever again. Shipwrecked 'e was. I think she be just hopin' that something will turn up. Poor woman.'

Asker stood quietly for a time just looking at the house. For a change he was serious and Ruby studied his face in the moonlight. She thought he was quite a lot older than she was and that was good. She admired the wisdom of older people and Andrew made her feel comfortable and safe.

'Something will turn up for Mrs. Milligan and those poor children,' he said quietly as he took several silver coins from his purse and slid them under the door. Ruby turned to him in surprise.

'Why 'ave yer done that?'

'Because they need it an' I ain't got anyone t' give it to,' he said simply.

'Are yer rich?' she asked directly.

'No. But I live cheaply under the stars. I ain't in a hotel all the time and I just ain't got nobody else t' share it with,' he replied in a matter of fact tone.

'How come yer live under the stars. Is yer homeless? If yer be homeless how come yer got money t' give away like that?' She sounded confused.

'That's just me work,' he said, as they started off down the street again. 'We're cattle drovers. We cover hundreds o' miles movin' a few mile a day an' restin' when it be too hot, or too dark, just me an' me mates an' some dogs an' horses. When I comes t' town I gets a new suit o' clothes, an 'air cut an' shave, an' stay in a flash 'otel, an' eat an' drink like ordinary folks for a few days till the next mob be ready t' move.'

'You 'ave a really interesting life...'

She stopped suddenly and Andrew knew, from the way she waved a hand towards a dimly lit building, that they were at her house.

'Thanks fer walkin' with me an' sorry fer what I said about the drinkin'.'

'Yer ain't gotta apologize, Ruby. Everything yer said was true.' He paused to prepare himself mentally for a big gamble. 'Ruby.... Can we do this again tomorrow night?'

'Mr Watson don't like 'is staff mixin' with the guests. Says it's not proper.'

'We could meet round the corner by the stables,' he suggested.

'Well... all right. I finish at ten.'

Asker was so delighted with her response that he momentarily lost control of his better judgment. With his legs trembling like sticks of jelly, he bent down and kissed her on the cheek so quickly that he caught her completely off guard. An instant later she drew away and a voice from inside the house called to her in a matronly tone.

'Ruby? Is that you? It's late, dear. Come in at once!'

She ran towards the door, turned briefly to wave and disappeared inside.

Chapter 40

Windmill Street

As Ruby's door closed Andrew Asker retreated down Windmill Street in the darkness and paused briefly outside the Milligan house. All was quiet inside and he moved on again towards Watson's Hotel. He wondered how many children there were in the house and how they would survive without their father. It was a cruel world for many folk. His own family had had it tough when they were little but at least there had always been two wonderful parents. He thought about how lucky they had been to be born where and when they were. He tried to imagine what it must have been like for his parents growing up on the streets of London. He was lucky, he told himself, and then his thoughts turned to Ruby again. What a lovely young lady she was. She was beautiful and she had a rare combination of sparkle and grit. He couldn't wait to be with her again. A few minutes later he arrived at the hotel and went inside.

It was late when the drovers got back to Watson's the next night after preparing for the next cattle drove and they went straight to the dining room without taking time for a beer.

'Gidday, Ruby. Nice t' see you again.'

Asker was surprised at how relaxed he had become with Ruby. He had never been like that in the presence of females, except his mother and sisters of course, but they were different.

'Good evening, sir,' she welcomed him formally, trying hard not to show too much pleasure at seeing him again. Quickly, she looked around to see if Watson was watching.

'Can I walk yer home tonight, Ruby?' Dan Martin asked cheekily. 'I'm better lookin' than Andrew.'

Ruby giggled and hurried from the dining room as Asker shot Martin a furious look.

'Piss off, mate. She's got 'er work cut out with me. Ain't she beautiful?'

They chuckled and Martin leaned across the table towards his long-time friend.

'Just tryin' t' break the ice for yer, mate. You're onto a fair dinkum one there.'

When they had finished their meals they went to the bar but Asker stayed only to keep them company until he knew that Ruby would be finishing work and going to meet him. She was outside the stables a few minutes after ten o'clock.

'Nice t' see you again, Ruby.'

'Oh, thank you,' she said politely and smiled warmly.

'Guess what, Ruby?'

She turned to look straight into his face.

'You're drunk again?' Her question was almost a statement.

'Nope,' he said flatly.

'What then?'

'This's what. Ain't 'ad a beer all day. Been too busy getting ready fer the next job. Any case been savin' me self fer you.'

'Why? You're only walkin' me home, ain't yer?'

'Yeah, sure, but you're nice, Ruby, an' I should stay sober when I'm with yer. Know what I mean?'

They walked in silence through the deserted narrow streets while she thought about his compliments. A small amount of light reached them from the houses. Behind one of the houses a dog growled at the approach of their footsteps and the neighborhood had all the usual odors of garbage and human waste behind the houses and horse dung in the streets.

'I ne'er did drink none,' Ruby said at last. 'Me ma would hit the roof. She's always preachin' against it.' She lowered her voice. 'But one day I might try it.'

They came to a crowded bar and Asker stopped outside the door and turned to face her.

'One day?'

'Yeah, one day. Not now!' she said with rising alarm.

'Well yer shouldn't just go in one day on yer own an' order a tankard. Half a tankard would knock yer off yer feet an' you'd 'ave sailors an' other villains tryin' to pick yer up like yer was a...' He stopped suddenly when he almost used a word that should never be used in the presence of a lady.

'Really? Yer mean like a...? That'd be terrible!'

'However, if we go together I could let yer 'ave a mouthful o' mine an' no harm be done. Wadda yer say, Ruby?'

She thought about it for a moment while she listened to the crowd inside. They seemed to be enjoying themselves.

'As yer say, no harm be done, so why not? That's what I like about you, Andrew. You're so wise an' mature. Just a mouthful.'

'Okay, just one.'

Chapter 41

The Milligans

The bar crowd was boisterous with lots of shouting and singing under a blue haze of tobacco smoke. In spite of the din at least two patrons that Ruby could see were sleeping soundly with other patrons stepping around them. In a corner several women, that she thought might be prostitutes, seemed to be waiting for men. She pressed close to Asker's side as he ordered his tankard. She took a small sip of the amber liquid and grimaced as she swallowed it. She considered the taste for a moment. It was nothing like she had expected. She looked at it and took a larger sip. She grimaced again and almost closed her eyes as the liquid gravitated passed her taste buds.

'Oh! It's different, ain't it?'

She held the tankard out for Asker. He took it, had a long swig, smacked his lips in satisfaction and handed it back to Ruby again. She had another small sip and quickly passed it back. She watched in awe as he up-ended the tankard, letting the entire contents slide down his throat.

'That's how it's done, Ruby.' He said proudly and let go a loud belch of satisfaction as they left the bar arm in arm. She giggled at his vulgarity and wondered what her mother would have thought about someone displaying such dreadful manners in public.

When they got to Windmill Street they stopped two houses short of Ruby's house. Gently, Asker pulled her towards him and kissed her on the cheek again.

'You're lovely, Ruby,' he whispered in her ear.

'You too, Andrew,' she breathed before pulling back slightly and looking up at him with a magical twinkle in her eyes. 'I mean, Mr Asker, sir.'

They laughed and she made a half-hearted attempt to break free from his embrace but he held her firmly and kissed her passionately on the mouth. She put her arms around his muscular frame and pulled him towards her, returning his kisses with fervor. Suddenly she broke free and ran towards the house.

'See yer tomorrow, Ruby.'

'Yeah. See yer, Andrew.' She looked back briefly and then she was gone.

As he walked back along the street with a spring in his step Asker realized that he had become totally besotted with Ruby. She represented everything that had been missing from his life for years and she was beautiful and fun loving. Suddenly he was in a celebratory mood and he went into a bar and had another drink. He was sure that the luck of the Askers was moving into a positive win stage and, as any gambler knows, you can't win if you're not in, he told himself. As he was about to leave the bar in search of a card game he was approached by a flamboyant lady of the night.

'Not interested in that, miss,' he told the woman firmly. 'Where's the nearest gamblin' 'ouse to here?'

'Feelin' lucky, is yer, lovey?'

'Yeah. Got a feelin' it's me lucky night, miss. Where's the nearest game to here?'

'If you're feelin' game, lovey, I can take yer through the red door an' up the stairs an' yer can get lucky with me.'

'I be spoken for, miss,' he said without taking time to think about it.

She pointed through the smoke haze to a green door.

'That's the place. Oh, I be so disappointed with yer bein' such a good looker an' all. Come back if yer change yer mind, lovey.'

'Thanks, miss.'

Inside the den he found Joker Hammond and Billy Cox seated at a crowded table and as usual the largest pile of money was on their side of the table. He watched the play from another table for a few minutes before being invited to join them. His first hand had nothing useful and he passed up the opportunity to bet. The next deal gave him three Kings and he made a token bet and lost. Then he had two more losses before being dealt three Aces and two Jacks. Casually he eased up the stakes until several players had most of their bankroll invested. When the hands were shown he casually scooped up his winnings and thanked them all for the opportunity to play. Across the table one of the loosing players jumped to his feet and flashed a knife in Asker's face. Asker froze as the loser's eyes locked onto his.

'Now yer look 'ere, Johnny-come-lately. Just keep playin'.'

'Keep playin' by all means, if yer be able. But count me out, sonny,' Asker said coldly. From the corner of his eye he had already seen Billy Cox move like greased lightning, pistol in hand.

'Now yer look 'ere, mate.' Billy held the gun to the gambler's head. 'When Andy says 'e ain't playin', then 'e ain't playin'. Andy means what 'e says, kid. So drop the knife or yer brains ain't gonna touch the ground till they're beyond the Black Stump.'

'All right, mate. Was only jokin'.'

The man with the knife slowly lowered himself into his seat while the dealer, a cigarette hanging from a corner of his mouth and one eye shut to keep the smoke out, shelled out the cards as though nothing had happened.

Andrew slipped quietly out of the den keeping his eyes straight in front as he stepped around the prostitutes. He hurried to another bar where he celebrated his good fortune and lucky escape with another drink. Apart from Ruby something else had been on his mind for the last two days. When he got back to his room he found a sheet of paper and struggled to write a note in his barely literate hand.

'Dear Missus Milligann I had sum Goode Luck toonight and I want to share sum of it with you and yer Babies. Be brave Missus Milligann.

Yours, son of A First Fleeter.'

Thirty minutes after he started writing the note he slowly reread it. Then satisfied that Mrs. Milligan would understand it, and proud of his achievement, he left the hotel and went back to the Milligan house where he slid the note and three gold coins under the door. It was after three in the morning when he got back to Watson's Hotel and slid between the sheets.

When Asker opened his eyes it was late. The sun was streaming in the window and someone was in the room.

'Oh! I be sorry, sir. Thought the room be empty.'

Ruby was embarrassed and went to make a rapid exit.

During the night Asker had experienced a vivid dream about Ruby and himself droving cattle together and stopping often to engage in wild erotic sessions of sex. When he woke up he thought he was still dreaming.

'Ruby. It's me, Andrew. Don't leave,' he called sleepily.

'I'm really sorry, sir... Andrew.'

She stopped awkwardly in the doorway.

'Oh. I get it. You're housemaid too. How long does yer work each day?'

'Some days it's sixteen hours, others only twelve. Depends how busy we is.' Ruby's shocked expression was replaced by her more natural warm smile.

'Come an' sit 'ere fer a minute, Ruby.' Asker patted the bed where he wanted her to sit.

'No. No. I shouldn't be 'ere while yer in the room. Honestly, I thought the room was empty an' ready t' be made up,' she pleaded.

'Just fer a moment,' he whispered softly.

'Okay, just fer a moment.'

She sat down timidly, right on the edge of the bed, and he took her hands in his and looked into her face.

'You're beautiful, Ruby.'

As he spoke he gently pulled her closer and kissed her cheek. Then he pulled her down on top of him and caressed her hair and shoulders. As his hand strayed to her buttocks she quickly tried to draw away.

'I must go,' she pleaded with a trace of urgency in her voice.

'Will yer meet me 'ere tonight when yer finish yer work?'

'All right,' she said quickly and hurried out the door.

Ruby continued with her work servicing the guestrooms and waiting on the tables. She left Asker's room until last and was careful to knock before entering. He was gone. As she worked in the room she felt his presence as though he was still there looking at her and watching her every movement. He really was a very nice man, quite a bit older than she was, but handsome and gentle. He wasn't like the usual run of businessmen, graziers, and travellers who stayed at the hotel. Nor was he even remotely like the sailors and laborers who pestered her when she walked along the street, or the convict labor gangs that whistled and made obscene gestures. He wasn't like any of them, she told herself. As she thought about him she became convinced that for the first time in her life she was in love. That shocked her because she had planned to live as a spinster for a long time, perhaps even her entire life.

The colony had a desperate shortage of eligible females and many were married or living with men from the age of thirteen or fourteen onward. Few women were still single by eighteen or nineteen. By the time most females reached twenty they had given birth to several babies and some had more than ten babies by the time they reached thirty. Mostly they lived in shocking poverty, many dying in childbirth. Ruby knew women who were trapped in violent relationships or were left in poverty with large families when their men died or were no longer interested in them... This man was different.

She would be ready to give herself to him, if she were lucky enough to be asked the magic question. She had a wicked thought that she tried to put out of her mind but it kept coming back. She wanted him to take her into his bed and make her a complete woman. He would have to guide her expertly and gently, as she believed only he could. Whatever the consequences she wanted him, desperately. She hoped and prayed that her shyness and the embarrassment of letting him see her naked body would not let her down at the crucial moment. Otherwise she was ready for him and him alone.

Chapter 42

Rendezvous

When the dining room opened for dinner Ruby waited eagerly for Andrew to appear. She just loved having him near even though she was obliged to treat him exactly the same as the other guests, always calling him sir. Other guests came and went but there was no sign of Andrew and his drovers. Where could they be? Surely he wouldn't have left town without saying goodbye. In a few minutes the dining room would close for the night. Then, when she had almost given up hope, he was standing in the doorway asking if he could still get a meal.

'Yes, sir,' she replied formally and then added in a hushed tone, 'I thought you weren't coming.'

'Sorry, Ruby. Been working late getting everything ready for an early start in two days. Haven't even had a beer.'

'Would you like a drink, sir?'

'No thanks, Ruby.' Then he leaned closer and smiled. 'Just wanna be with you.'

'You're a villain. But I love yer,' she whispered, then flushed with embarrassment and hurried to the kitchen.

At ten-thirty she crept furtively along the passageway leading to the guestrooms, knocked softly on his door and waited nervously for it to open. She heard his footsteps inside the room and the door opened. He stood beaming with pleasure while she struggled with her inner self between acting formally in the house of her master and relaxing and enjoying the moment with the man of her dreams.

'Quick. Come in before Watson sees us,' Asker said as he pulled her quickly but gently into the room, and into his arms.

'Haven't been able to stop thinkin' about yer all day, Ruby.'

'Me too,' she said softly into his ear.

'I want for us to know each other better,' he said, struggling to express his feelings. 'I mean we've known each other fer three days an' already it feels like a lifetime.'

He hesitated as he thought about the consequences of having a young lady in the privacy of his hotel room. If word got out people would say the most ghastly things about them and she didn't deserve any of that. 'Can we just talk fer a while before I walk with yer t' yer house?'

'I'd love t' hear yer life story, Andrew. Even yer life confessions but yer won't find much o' interest in mine.'

She laughed happily.

They talked for almost an hour. She talked about her friends in Windmill Street and he talked about his friends, Ben Rogers, Dan Martin and the other drovers. They talked of places they had been.

'I walked to Parramatta once with me pa. It seemed such a long way we 'ad t' stay the night an' come back the next day,' she said.

'Ruby, Parramatta's only a little way from Sydney.'

He chuckled at her idea of a long distance.

'Till you've been t' Moreton Bay or Port Philip Bay yer ain't been far.'

'Oh, I've been t' Bathurst. We lived there but I don't remember anything o' that.'

'Bathurst! We lived in Bathurst too. George Street. Me folks has been dead for some years an' there ain't no Askers livin' there no more.'

'Oh, I heard me ma mention the Askers. She often talks about them. Is yer one o' them?'

'Yes, Ruby, I'm an Asker. What be your name?'

'Smythe. Me folks was Jack and Mary Smythe. Me pa died from some sort o' sickness. He wasn't very old.'

'Sorry t' here about yer pa, Ruby. It sure is a small world. Fancy yer bein' from Bathurst.'

They sat in silence for a few minutes each with an arm around the other's waist.

'Tell me, Andrew. Is there any women drovers?'

'Never heard o' none, Ruby. Pretty hard life for a woman. What with the dust an' heat an' flies an' some pretty hard case men wouldn't be much of a life fer a woman. Ain't many women on the stations, neither. Yer don't never want t' 'ave a life like that, Ruby.'

'I could be the first,' she declared confidently.

'Not with the Overlanders yer couldn't,' he replied flatly.

Suddenly she leapt to her feet in a panic.

'Andrew! I gotta go. Me ma will be waitin' up for me. Sometimes she knows I'll be late when I be workin' but not this late.'

He stood and took her in his arms again and started kissing her.

'Really, Andrew, I must go,' she protested.

'Soon soon. I'll walk with you again,' he promised as his hands started exploring her tender buttocks. 'I love yer, Ruby,' he said softly.

'I love yer too, but...'

His mouth stopped her from finishing.

Their hands explored their bodies and their passions rose to an unstoppable fever. As he pressed himself against her slender shapely body Ruby was surprised at the urgency with which she pressed back against his muscular frame. She could feel the rising hardness in his breeches and she knew that unless she stopped what was about to happen their lives could be changed forever. She wanted to stop but she wanted to keep going too. Then he gently lowered her onto the bed groping at her skirt and layers of petticoats as they rolled to face each other again. Quickly his hand found the vital spot between her delicate thighs. She moaned and half-heartedly tried to push his hand away, but her passions rose higher.

'I love yer, Ruby. I ain't never met nobody like you before,' he breathed in her ear, as he tugged and fumbled with the mass of clothing. 'Help me take 'em off.'

'I'm scared,' she whispered back. 'I love yer an' I want to, but I'm scared.'

'Don't be scared, me love,' he whispered as he guided her hand inside his breeches.

'Oh! It's so big!' she gasped and quickly withdrew her hand.

'Hold it for me, Ruby. Please?' he pleaded. 'It feels so good when yer touch me like that. Yer hands be so soft and gentle. I want yer more than anything in the world.'

She helped him remove her drawers and the beauty of what he saw left him spellbound, his eyes feasting on her most private place. A moment later, his hand moved impulsively to touch the wetness of her opening.

'Oh! Oh! Andrew.' She pulled him desperately towards her as his fingers massaged the magic spot and slipped inside.

'Oh! Andrew. Please be gentle. Yes. Yes. I want you, now!'

Chapter 43

The Lovers

Later they lay together hugging and kissing while their breathing returned to normal.

'That was wonderful, Ruby,' he said eventually.

There was another long silence before she answered.

'How many others has there been?'

'Only one. It was a long time ago.'

She turned over to look into his face.

'Tell me about it.'

'Like I said, it was a long time ago. I'll tell you about it sometime, but not now.'

She looked up at the ceiling again.

'Why not now?'

'Because now is special, Ruby, very special.'

She was silent again for a long time. Suddenly he realized she was crying and he turned towards her. He had not expected anything like that. He knew that he had a lot to learn about women. As she stared glassy eyed at the ceiling the tears ran silently down her beautiful face.

'Whatever is the matter, me lovely?'

'I ain't ne'er done that before,' she sobbed.

Gently he drew her to him again and stroked her hair. It was a long time before he could think of something suitable to say.

'I'm sorry, Ruby. I 'ad no idea you'd be upset.'

'Yer don't 'ave to say sorry. It's not like that. I wanted it too. But it's special for girls. I can't really explain. I think I've sinned.'

'No, Ruby. You ain't sinned. How could anything so wonderful be a sin?' He helped dry her tears. 'Come on let's get dressed an' I'll take yer home.'

When they got to her house they stopped outside and held each other for a moment.

'Can we be together again tomorrow night?' he asked hopefully.

'Please,' she answered enthusiastically. 'Shall I come t' the room again?'

'If yer ain't there by ten thirty I'll 'ave the whole drovin' gang out lookin' fer yer,' he replied with a laugh.

She looked at him seriously.

'Yer won't tell 'em what we've been doing, will yer?'

'No, Ruby. That'll be our special secret. I love yer.'

'I love yer too, Andrew.'

She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and ran to the house. At the door she turned and waved before slipping inside.

Chapter 44

An Age Apart

All day thoughts of Ruby flooded into Asker's mind. He could barely wait to be with her again. He expected that the painful memory of Ginalong would fade into the past where it belonged. It was many years since that brief, wonderful but tragic encounter had taken place and he knew that life had to go on.

The weather was warm and sunny in Sydney and the town was bustling with the activity of traders going about their business. Gangs of convicts worked on roads and building sites while mothers and their children came and went. The life of the colonists was much better than in the old days when Asker was growing up in Sydney Town, as it had been called then. He could also remember when the island continent was called New Holland. Later it became Australia Felix and then just Australia. Life indeed was much better. But around some corners street urchins and homeless people still lurked and drunks slumbered in the shade of trees and buildings. Down at Sydney Cove sailing ships loaded and unloaded their cargoes while others lay at anchor on the picturesque harbor. Along George Street there was a constant procession of drays and wagons interspersed with the carriages of the rich and elite, and everywhere the streets and alleys were littered with stinking piles of horse manure and urine baking in the sun. Many older buildings, some abandoned, were infested with rats, cockroaches, spiders and snakes but by and large conditions were starting to improve for many people.

Asker enjoyed being in Sydney. In a way it was still home. He also loved the Outback where he could feel close to nature. There were hardships in the Outback that townsfolk generally could never understand, but it was great to wake up in the morning and hear a chorus of birds, or watch all manner of creatures large and small. Then there were the trees, flowers, hills, rivers and plains. For Andrew Asker it was great to be alive – and even greater to be in love. He wondered if he might have to give up droving and the Outback life if there was to be a life with Ruby. Yes, he would do that for Ruby if that were what she wanted. A woman like Ruby could even change his long-term goal to have his own outback cattle station some day. He decided that when he returned to Sydney from the next contract that he would ask Ruby to be his wife.

At ten-thirty Ruby tapped on his door and he quickly let her in.

'Gidday, Ruby. Nice t' see you again.'

'Gidday, Andrew. Can't stay long. Me ma was waiting up for me last night frantic with worry.'

He pulled her to him and she responded eagerly to his caressing. They crashed onto the bed and again their passions soon reached the point of no return. Hastily they discarded their clothes completely and locked together in a hell-bent fury of passion and ecstasy. When they had finished they lay together breathing heavily and stroking and kissing each other. Gradually they rekindled their ardent lust until they could hold back no longer. This time they thrust harder, deeper and longer than before, before it was all over again and they lay together exhausted but utterly satisfied.

'I won't be able t' walk fer a week after that,' she joked.

He laughed as he gasped for breath.

'An' I won't be able to work for a week.'

'I must go home, when I can find the energy.'

'Don't worry about that. I'll carry yer on me shoulders.'

'Bet yer couldn't even lift me.'

'Wanna bet?'

'Go on,' she challenged.

In one rapid movement he sprang to his feet and lifted her slender body above his head.

'Andrew! Please be careful,' she pleaded urgently and then added another humorous touch. 'Me ma would be really mad if yer took me 'ome like this, naked as the day I was born.'

'Let's find out.'

He moved gingerly towards the door still holding her above his head.

'Andrew, stop!' she cried.

He lowered her effortlessly to the floor. They dressed quickly.

'What did yer tell yer ma about why yer was so late last night?'

'Just told 'er I was workin' late. I think she believed me.'

As they walked along the street she asked more questions about his work.

'What does yer do at night fer entertainment?'

'There ain't a lot o' time for entertainment, Ruby. There's gear to fix and animals to look after, clothes to be washed – when we got water – an' when there's nothin' else we just yarn, or sing, or recite a bit o' verse.'

'Does yer ever read books?'

'There's a couple o' books in the gang that's been read over and over. But most of us can't read properly and anyway books is too heavy to carry round. Mostly we use what's in our heads.'

As they walked she looked up at him with her curious smile.

'Can I listen to' some o' yer verse?'

'Yeah, sure, Ruby.'

He cleared his throat.

'The big dry's come t' the cattle an' 'orses t' knock,

An' each an' every billabong's gone bone bloody dry.

So we'll drove 'em some more, them wretched stock,

Before the miserable blighters all up an' bloody die.

An, we'll round 'em up when the first sparrow farts,

An' take 'em way out yonder t' faraway parts,

Along dusty trails or parched outback tracks,

Asker's drovers, 'orses, dogs, a cook an' some blacks.

So we'll press on towards the flood plain grass,

An' out across the arid mulga bush plain,

Onward through a high an' windy mountain pass,

An' over stony ridges an' brown vale terrain,

Searchin' ever fer cool an' clear life givin' water,

But it's all been drunk by the devil's own daughter.

So we'll keep on a ridin' our chestnut hacks,

Asker's drovers, 'orses, dogs, a cook an' some blacks.

Onward, onward, fer ever an' ever we're doomed t' ride,

Under the scorchin' blaze of the high noon sun,

Out where the heat haze an' mirages collide,

Till we finally arrive at the squatter man's run.

Then we'll pick up our payment an' kick up our heels,

An let the grog blur the memory of them recent ordeals,

We'll start again with another mob, an' laden rucksacks,

Asker's drovers, 'orses, dogs, a cook an' some blacks.

'Andrew, that's really wonderful,' Ruby said enthusiastically. 'Did you put that together?'

'Partly, but we all had some say in it.'

'The blacks too?'

'They would've been disappointed if we'd left 'em out.'

They walked on in silence for a moment. Suddenly Ruby stopped and looked up him.

'How old are yer?' she asked.

'Guess,' he invited.

She studied his face again in the moonlight.

'Twenty-seven,' she said flatly, and then added, 'I think an' older man is good for a young woman like me.'

'You sure as hell got an older man, Ruby. I'm thirty-six,' he replied with a smile.

'Gee whiz! Thirty-six!' she repeated in a tone that spelled amazement. 'Can yer guess my age?'

He considered the question and studied her face for a long time. Guessing the age of females was something that he was not very good at simply because, where he spent most of his life females were outnumbered by about thirty to one. Even in Sydney they were outnumbered four to one. Besides he would never dream of asking a lady her age. At first he had thought she might be about seventeen but she seemed more mature than that. Perhaps he was wrong. On the other hand if she were older then why was she still single in a town where women married, or lived with a man, at a much younger age?

'Guess,' she repeated insistently.

'Okay. Eighteen,' he ventured cautiously.

'Fourteen,' she replied in a matter-of-fact voice while shrewdly adding an extra year to her real age.

The bombshell stopped him in his tracks.

'I don't believe you,' he said flatly.

When he could see that she meant it, he added, 'Ruby, you should 'ave told me sooner. I mean... It's wrong fer you an' me... We shouldn't of done what we done. You're too young.'

'No I'm not!' she argued defiantly. 'I'm grown up enough. Most o' me friends 'ave been doin' it fer ages. Some's already married an' got babies.'

'It ain't right, Ruby,' he said firmly as though that was the end of the matter.

'Trouble is you're ol' fashioned, Andrew Asker.'

Chapter 45

No Place for a Woman

Asker was speechless. How could he have been so stupid? He should have known how old she was. She was only a third his age and not much more than half his height but she could certainly stand up for herself. She had more guts than many men that he knew.

'It still ain't right, Ruby.'

'Does that mean yer ain't gonna see me no more?'

Her question was more a challenge. He wanted to be less direct.

'I love yer, Ruby, but I'm almost three times yer age.'

'I don't care. Like I told yer, I think an older man be good fer a woman like me. Older men have more sense and are better fer lookin' after a family. But if yer look fer a woman yer own age then she could die havin' yer babies.'

It was hard to argue with her logic and wisdom. When they turned into Windmill Street she stopped to face him.

'Well?' she demanded.

'Well what?' he asked.

'Does it mean yer ain't gonna see me again?'

'I dunno, Ruby. We belong in different worlds, you an' me.' If only she was a few years older, he thought. 'Tell yer what, Ruby. Why don't we wait until I get back to Sydney again? It'll only be a few months and if we still feel strongly about each other we can talk about it then. What do yer say?'

'I'll wait for yer, Andrew. You'll see.'

Then she turned on her cheeky grin again.

'I'd come with yer if yer just gave the word. I could be a stockman, ringer or cook.'

'No, Ruby, no! I won't hear of it,' he said seriously. 'The bush be no place for a woman of any age.'

'Does yer still love me?'

'Yes. I still love yer,' he said sincerely. 'But in a different way now. I'm sorry, Ruby. I thought you were much older.'

As they approached the house both were surprised to see Ruby's mother waiting at the door. Mary Smythe was a stunning woman who appeared to be not much older than her daughter. She invited them into the small terrace house.

'Ma, this is Andrew Asker.'

Mary turned her head quickly when she heard the name.

'Is you one o' the Askers from Bathurst?'

'Sure am, missus. Me folks was Nathaniel and Isobel Asker. We lived in George Street.'

'I knew them well. We were neighbors. I'm Mary Smythe. Would yer like some tea?'

'No thanks, Mrs. Smythe. It's very late an' I'm leavin' fer the Outback in the morning. I'm a cattle drover.'

'Yer ma an' pa was fine folks, Andrew.'

He hoped that she had no idea what they had just been doing. She would be furious.

'Please call me Mary, after all we're about the same age and any of Ruby's friends is always welcome here. She always has nice friends an' you seem t' be a nice man. Bit older though.' Then, as though it would explain everything, she added, 'My Jack was twenty years older than me and we had Ruby when I was only fourteen.'

Asker began calculating as quickly as he knew how. He struggled to read and write but he had mastered simple arithmetic and he soon worked out that if Mary was fourteen years older than Ruby, then Mary was only twenty-eight, which made her eight years younger than he was. He also quickly worked out that while Jack may have been twenty years older than Mary, Asker was twenty-two years older than Ruby. The age difference was too great.

'Ruby is a lovely lass, Mary, and I can see why.'

Mother and daughter were so much alike. One was as beautiful as the other. It was strange how both had an uncanny affect on him. It was so easy to relax in their company.

A few minutes later he said goodbye to Mary and walked to the door with Ruby. Outside they embraced for the last time and Ruby's tears began to flow again.

'Please take me with you?' she pleaded. 'I'll do whatever be expected. I'll work as good as any man. I promise.'

'No, Ruby me lovely, I can't,' he said trying to show finality as well as sympathy.

'Please.'

'Please wait till I get back, Ruby. I promise I'll see yer then.'

'I'll be waitin', Andrew, me love.'

'I love yer dearly.'

'I love yer too – more than anything else in the world.'

'Goodbye, me love.'

Chapter 46

To Goondiwindi

The first light was appearing in the eastern sky when Dan Martin awakened Asker from a deep sleep. They had planned to leave before breakfast.

'Come on, mate,' Dan called. 'Hands off cocks, feet in socks.'

Asker rolled over and rubbed his sleepy eyes.

'Piss off, Dan. I've barely been asleep.'

'It's that bloody Ruby, mate. She'll be wantin' t' marry yer next.'

'Piss off!'

'Yer look absolutely knackered, mate. She must've been screwin' yer six or more times a night. You're too bloody old t' keep that up.'

'Mate, next time I need yer advice about women I'll ask yer, when yer comin' out o' one o' them whorehouses. Besides Ruby ain't like that. She's just a nice young girl.'

Three weeks later they met the rest of the gang near Mudgee, along with the pack horses, dogs and a thousand cattle, and they assembled into a long cavalcade for the six hundred-mile journey north to Goondiwindi on the Queensland border. They were just three days out with the mob when the rain started. It rained continuously for over a week and during the day all were wet and miserable and at night when they tried to sleep they were wet, cold and miserable. It was a depressing time. Crossing rivers became difficult then treacherous and eventually they became marooned between two major rivers.

After the rain stopped they suffered oppressive humidity and swarms of huge flies that crawled relentlessly over their limbs and faces. It was difficult to eat or drink without swallowing mouthfuls of them. Their supplies became contaminated and most of the gang got sick with fever but they pressed on as soon as the swollen rivers allowed their passage. They crossed the Talbraga River, skirted around the isolated settlement at Coolah, crossed over Pandora's Pass and reached Black Bulga Mountain where they rested for several days. Six weeks out from Mudgee the Overlanders had two-thirds of the journey still to cover. It was one of the toughest treks they had made.

Ben Rogers and Dan Martin had noticed that their partner, Andrew Asker whom they all referred to as the Boss, had not been his usual self for some time and it seemed to be more than the sickness that had affected them all. He seemed to lack interest or motivation for the work, leaving the day to day running of the operation to his partners. He would often go off on his own for hours at a time, or sit apart from the other men at meal times, and just stare vacantly into the wilderness. The two men decided it was time to talk with Asker when the three of them were alone.

'We'd like t' talk, mate,' Martin said earnestly.

'Yeah? What about?' Asker said with apparent unconcern.

'Yer heart ain't with the gang no longer an' we wanna know what's goin' on?' Rogers said hesitantly.

Asker walked a few yards away from them, sat on a fallen tree trunk holding his head in his hands and stared quietly at the nearby mountains.

'I think I'm sick,' he said eventually.

'We've all been sick, mate.'

'I know. But this be somethin' else.'

'Like what, mate?'

'Every mornin' regular as sun-up I spews me guts up. Yer ain't seen it happen 'cos I leaves camp t' do it. Some times I has t' sit down before I falls down. Think I've even passed out a couple o' times. Wish I knew what it was.'

'Yer really is sick, mate,' Martin said.

'That's part of it,' Asker replied after a long pause.

'Tell us the rest then.'

There was another long pause while Asker swiveled round on the log, as though looking for a comfortable position. He stared out across the barren plains away from the mountains.

'I've got this overpowering urge to go back t' Sydney. It's me old hometown, yer know. If me illness be serious then I wanna get back there before it be too late but I don't wanna let the gang down either. So don't worry. I'll stay with yer till we get t' Goondiwindi.'

'Then what?'

'Then I'll be lookin' fer a fast track t' Sydney.'

The three men fell silent while each rolled a cigarette, lit it from the campfire and inhaled the smoke.

'Anything else, cobber?' Rogers asked eventually when they moved away again from the fire and the other men.

'Yeah, there is. I've been a drover fer too long an' it's time I did somethin' else. I don't belong out 'ere no more.'

Rogers and Martin were stunned.

'Where does yer belong, Andrew?' Rogers asked for the want of something more appropriate to say.

Asker thought about that for a time. He'd made it plain that he wanted to be in Sydney. The Outback was no longer his chosen lifestyle. What else could he say to his old friends?

'I belongs with Ruby!' he blurted impulsively.

Chapter 47

The Return

He did not care that they might think that he was loosing his marbles. His place was with Ruby.

His partners exchanged understanding glances at each other and then Martin put an arm around his shoulder.

'I agree, mate. You should be with Ruby. Meanwhile we'll manage all right. You can take one of the men with you and turn back now. We can hire a couple more stockmen along the way somewhere and we'll see yer when we get back to Sydney. Maybe after a good rest you'll be ready to join up again, just like yer ol' self.'

'Thanks, Dan. But I'll manage okay on me own. You'll need all the men with you.'

'No, take someone with yer, Andrew,' Rogers said.

'Honestly, I don't need to. I've ridden, or walked, fer months on me own before. I'll be okay.'

'Suit yerself, mate.'

Asker left the drover's camp early the next morning with two horses and rations for four weeks. He made faster progress without the hindrance of a mob of cattle and his spirit was lifted by the prospect of being with Ruby again.

Two weeks later he was in Sydney and went straight to Watson's Hotel, arriving just after sundown. He fastened his horses to the hitching rail and strode into the dining room. As he opened the door he caught a rear view of Ruby disappearing into the kitchen. He helped himself to a seat at a table facing away from the kitchen door and waited, his wide-brimmed riding hat hiding his face from view. He heard her footsteps approaching from behind. She would ask him politely to remove his hat in the dining room.

'Are you ready to order, sir?' she asked instead in her formal dining room voice.

'Yes, mam. I want you.'

Slowly, he tilted his head so that she could see his beaming face.

'Andrew!' she exclaimed in sheer delight. 'You villain!'

The normal dining room protocol was forgotten as she threw her arms around him knocking his hat to the floor. They kissed and embraced and then she burst into tears. Asker looked around at the shocked diners.

'Don't be alarmed folks. We is gonna get married soon,' he announced with all thoughts of Ruby being too young completely forgotten.

Almost in unison the stunned diners turned their attention back to their dinner plates and resumed eating as though nothing unusual had happened.

'So we're getting married is we? It's nice t' be the first to know these things,' she said with mock indignation as she dried her eyes.

'Well, that's what I'm here for. How about it, Ruby?'

'Oh, it's nice t' be asked before it be announced. Yer always was a strange one, Andrew Asker.' She laughed. 'How come yer back so soon?'

'Seriously?' He spoke in a lower tone so that only she could hear what he was saying. 'I've come back early t' ask yer t' marry me. Whadda yer say, Ruby?'

Suddenly her eyes filled with tears again and her face flushed bright red.

'Can't say, Andrew.' She sounded confused. 'We needs t' talk first but not 'ere. Can yer meet me after me work is finished?'

'Sure thing, me love. Is everything okay?'

'Yeah, an' I'm overjoyed t' see yer, but we still needs t' talk.'

'That's me girl. Keep up the smile now.'

'Okay,' she said gaily and then switched to her formal voice again. 'Are you ready to order, sir?'

After he had eaten he booked a room and took his horses to the stables. Then he shaved, took a long soak in the bath and put on some clean clothes. At ten-thirty Ruby came to his room and they embraced and kissed just like old times. Then suddenly she broke free and sat on the edge of the bed. He sat alongside and they held hands.

'Was yer serious about wantin' t' get married?' she asked.

'Yes, Ruby, very serious. I've come back specially t' ask.'

'If we marry, where would we live?'

'I can afford t' get a little house, maybe in Windmill Street or somewhere nearby. I'd give up the drovin' and get a proper town job so I could be with yer.'

'I don't want yer t' give that up, Andrew. It's yer life.'

'No. I've done enough o' that. I'm ready fer a change,' he said genuinely.

'If we get married would yer want me t' 'ave babies?'

'Of course, Ruby. I think I'd love bein' a father.'

She hesitated.

'How soon?'

'Soon as possible, me lovely.' He looked at her with a slightly puzzled expression. Then he laughed. 'We could make one tonight, if that's what you'd like.'

She smiled as she pressed his hand against her stomach.

'Too late,' she said softly. 'We've already made one.'

'Already made... Yer mean... Ruby! Are yer really?'

Her smile broadened as she tried to switch to her formal voice again.

'Congratulations, Mr Asker, sir. The bun is in the oven, sir, and if yer don't mind waiting a little while it will be delivered soon, sir.'

'Are yer sure, Ruby?'

Chapter 48

A Real Mix-up

As though stopping himself from falling he gripped the side of the bed, as shocked as a turtle on a trapeze. A kind of sixth sense had warned him weeks ago that Ruby needed him but he had not expected anything like this. Now he understood.

'Yeah. I be sure, Andrew.' Ruby said as she confidently patted her stomach. 'Our little baby's right in here. I's been to a doctor and 'e confirmed it.'

'Doctors are expensive, Ruby. How could you afford that on what you earn?'

'Yeah, it was expensive but I want the best for me baby.'

'It'll certainly 'ave the best mother in the world, Ruby.' He paused for a moment and looked into her beautiful face. 'Is yer baby also gonna have a father?'

'That be fer you t' decide, Andrew.'

'Yes, Ruby me lovely, I wanna be the father o' yer baby. Will yer marry me?'

'Yes, Andrew. Oh, yes. I'm so pleased yer came back.'

He drew her towards him and they kissed and embraced for a long time. They were both overjoyed to be together again and starting to plan their future together and their baby's future.

'Are yer really sure yer wanna spend the rest o' yer life with me?' he asked just to make sure that he had heard her correctly.

'Yeah. I'm certain. Never doubted it from the start. How about you?

'No doubt about it, me lovely.' He paused and looked into her eyes again. 'Now we must talk with yer ma. I hope she's gonna accept what's happened.'

'Can we leave it for a few days?'

'Why?'

'She's sure t' be disappointed, Andrew. I'm afraid o' what she might say.'

'All the more reason t' get it over with quickly. Let's do it now.'

As they approached the house in Windmill Street Ruby asked him what he would say to her mother.

'Still thinkin'.'

'Let's do it tomorrow,' she pleaded.

'No. It be now or never, Ruby,' he insisted.

'All right... Oh, Jesus, Mary an' friggin' Joseph, what's she gonna say?'

Once again Mary Smythe invited Andrew into her little house. She was surprised to see him again so soon. He explained that he had left the droving gang early because he had been sick and he went on to describe the symptoms.

Mary listened patiently with her eyes moving from one to the other and back again as he spoke. She noticed that both were avoiding eye contact with her and when Andrew became lost for words she decided to help him.

'Is there another reason yer came back early?'

He looked awkwardly at the floor as he tried to think about what he should say. It was a strange feeling. Here he was, the oldest person in the room by eight years and the tallest by over a foot, and yet he felt like a naughty teenage boy in the presence of this gracious lady who was Ruby's mother. To add to his embarrassment she seemed to be one step ahead of him with each bumbling utterance that he made. He would have to get a grip on himself.

'Ah, no... I mean yes... There was another reason...' he ran out of words again. He was annoyed with himself.

'I may be mistaken, Andrew...' Mary Smythe tried to help him. 'But I wonder if perhaps history is repeating itself.'

He wondered what she was driving at.

'Let me tell you about what happened to me an' my Jack. I was only thirteen, like Ruby, and he was much older. We thought we was in love right from the start. Then he joined another ship and sailed away. It was two years before 'e came back an' saw Ruby for the first time. Jack always said he wasn't surprised he had a daughter because he'd had all the symptoms of mornin' sickness that a woman usually gets when she's with child. Few folks know this, but just occasionally it's the father that gets the mornin' sickness, instead o' the mother. Also Ruby an' me is as alike as two peas in a pod an' often we know what the other is thinkin' or doin' – a kind o' sixth sense. Yer know what I mean?'

'I think so,' he said thoughtfully.

Did Mary say thirteen? Ruby only thirteen! It was unbelievable. Ruby had said she was fourteen. She looked eighteen. She was mature and level-headed too and now he had a responsibility.

'It was the same with Jack an' me,' Mary went on.

She looked at them both for a long time and they waited for her to continue.

'Now I may be jumpin' the gun 'ere, but is there somethin' else yer wanna tell me?'

They were both speechless and Ruby red-faced at being caught out regarding her real age.

'Has history repeated itself?' Mary urged.

'Ah... I guess yer could put it that way,' Andrew said at last, and he watched in amazement as a delighted smile came to Mary's face. 'We was wantin' t' marry as soon as possible, with your approval I mean. But now...'

'Oh, yer don't 'ave t' worry about that. Yer got me blessing.'

Mary quickly crossed the room and put her arms around them and kissed them both.

'I think you'll both be very happy.'

She made some tea and they talked for another hour.

'This be a real mix-up,' Mary said in a facetious tone. I'll be a granny at twenty-eight an' nine years younger than me son-in-law. You'll 'ave t' make sure, Ruby, that I don't run off with 'im.'

'Over me dead body, ma,' Ruby cut in quickly.

They all laughed and Andrew felt more at ease with his future in-law.

Chapter 49

Family Man

Andrew and Ruby became husband and wife in 1839 and at first they lived with Mary Smythe in Windmill Street. He started building houses on his own account while using what little spare time he had to build a house for himself and Ruby.

Frederick Smythe Asker was born two weeks before the Overlanders returned from another long trek to the Darling Downs and right from the start young Freddie got lots of attention. Ruby, Mary and Andrew were all devoted to him and each of the drovers also wanted to fuss over him and hold him at every opportunity.

When the drovers returned yet again Ruby and Andrew had moved into their own house near Mary. Two years after Freddie was born Maggie arrived and the next year saw the arrival of Wilfred Nathaniel Asker.

When the flow of convicts and free settlers all but dried up the colony slipped into a major economic recession taking with it the demand for new housing. For the first time Andrew Asker, devoted husband and father, was out of work. His old friends, Ben Rogers and Dan Martin, came to the rescue with an invitation to rejoin the Overlanders. He put the idea to Ruby and she readily agreed saying that it was what he really liked doing anyway.

The next cattle drive was three weeks away when Andrew agreed to rejoin. He decided to use the time finishing the inside of their new house. The walls needed lining and partitions were needed between the living and sleeping areas. There was also a need for additional windows and extra furniture. But they would have to wait until his next home time.

Each time he needed materials he saddled up his Overlander horse and rode to town with four-year-old Freddie Asker seated on the saddle in front of him. He would return leading the horse and materials with Freddie sitting in the saddle. Freddie loved every minute of the ride and always arrived home with new words added to his expanding vocabulary, words like horse, drover, saddle, cattle and outback which he repeated over and over.

As the first born, Freddie had initially been given a lot of attention. That changed with arrival of Maggie and Wilf. But it didn't stop Freddie from demanding center stage, especially where his father was concerned. Two days before Andrew's departure young Freddie demanded that he should be allowed to go too.

'One o' these days I'll take yer along but yer be just a bit young yet, mate,' Andrew said trying to placate him.

'I wanna go now!' he shouted. 'It's dumb here.'

'He'll soon get over it,' Andrew said, turning to Ruby.

'Take care, me love,' Ruby said.

He gave her and the two youngest children a farewell hug and kiss. Then he turned to Freddie and held out his hand expecting the boy to take it as he had been taught to do as if he were a man. Instead Freddie kicked him in the shin and ran into the house crying.

'I hate yer!' he shouted before slamming the door.

'Now I wish I didn't 'ave t' go,' Andrew said sadly.

'It'll be no time an' you'll be back.'

'I love yer, Ruby,' he said as he mounted his horse.

'I love yer too,' she called from the door.

'She stood at the door with the youngest children, watching until horse and rider turned the corner and disappeared from view.

Chapter 50

Patrick's Plains

Once again the old gang was back on the trail with Asker as the leader. This time they took the new route along the Putty Road where new bridges had been built over the major rivers. The route avoided the difficult crossings of the main divide and was much more direct to the place where they were to meet their new charges at Patrick's Plains. From there they would take the mob north to the Darling Downs and then return south with another mob for the slaughterhouse.

After the first day of droving the new herd, they camped beside a small lake and the stockmen erected the usual brake to secure the animals for the night. A short distance away another herd was settling down for the night too. A light breeze from the west drifted through the two camps and overhead thousands of tiny stars twinkled in the moonless sky. Asker took his turn as a ringer and for two hours he slowly circled the mob on his mount, quietly talking to them or whistling a soft tune to let them know that he was near. In the early hours of the morning he handed over to ex-convict Edmund Hazlitt.

All was quiet as Asker eased himself into his swag and closed his eyes for what was left of the night. His thoughts immediately turned to Ruby and the children. His initial uneasiness about marrying someone so young had turned out to be unfounded. She was a wonderful wife and mother. The children were all healthy and soon they would be probably the first Askers to attend school. He thought about Freddie. Little Freddie was going to be a fiery customer who would always be capable of standing up for himself in any situation. Perhaps he was too fiery. Perhaps they had made mistakes in the way they were raising him. Slowly he drifted off to sleep.

Some time later near the other camp a ringer's horse stepped on a small branch that had fallen from a tree. It snapped under the weight of the hoof and suddenly the mob was wide-awake and charging headlong into the darkness.

As the mob gathered speed the ringer tried to head them off and shouted frantically to his companions who were sleeping right in their path. Then Hazlitt's mob, hearing the commotion, sprang to life and stampeded away from the thunderous sound of flying hooves. They went straight for Hazlitt's own camp. Desperately, he tried to head them off. Within seconds the panic-stricken beasts charged headlong into his mount. He was thrown heavily to the ground and the mob ran right over him.

The sun rose to reveal a scene of tragic devastation. Hazlitt crawled painfully back to what remained of the Overlander's camp. He had witnessed some horrifying sights in his time but never anything on that scale. It was like a bad dream. Most of the drovers were dead or dying in their swags. Dead animals littered the lake and countryside around and hundreds more had simply vanished into the bush. Ben Rogers, Dan Martin and Joker Hammond were still alive but bruised and bleeding. Andrew Sidney Asker lay dead a short distance from his swag.

At the other camp the scene was much the same with many of the men dead or dying and the cattle gone. Between the two camps only seven of the nineteen drovers seemed likely to survive. Dan Martin and another man from the second camp set off for Maitland to get help while the others dug two large graves for the dead.

Chapter 51

The Premonition

In the small hours of the morning Ruby was awakened by a loud bang on the roof. She got up and checked the children and found that they were all sleeping soundly so she went back to bed and lay awake for several hours wondering what had caused the bang. When daylight came she checked outside the house and found no explanation. She wondered if something had happened to Andrew.

Two weeks later Ruby heard the sound of horses' hooves in the street outside. It was a normal and frequent sound in the streets of Sydney but something urged her to rush to the window to look out. She tried to convince herself that she was behaving irrationally, but then she saw Ben Rogers riding with a man she did not recognize. His face was solemn as he hitched his horse to the rail and her heart sank.

'What's happened?' she asked frantically. 'Where's Andrew?'

'Can we go inside, Ruby?'

Ben Rogers put an arm around her shoulder and guided her into the small parlor. When they were seated he broke the news.

'We had a rush at Patrick's Plains,' he started explaining.

'Is 'e all right?' she demanded impatiently.

Rogers wrung his hands awkwardly for a moment.

'No, Ruby, 'e won't be comin' home no more... We buried 'im at Patrick's Plains... I 'm very sorry, Ruby...'

Gently he put his arm around her again. She was too young and innocent to be a widow. He did not know what else to say.

'I knew it. I knew it,' she repeated in a hushed tone. 'I knew the very night it happened, the very moment it happened.'

Suddenly the tears came to her eyes and streamed down her beautiful young face.

'How did yer know?'

'Just knew,' she uttered through the tears. She tried to compose herself. 'Me ma an' me both kind o' get messages when things ain't right. Don't know how. It just happens. It was a message from Andrew an' it was about two weeks ago early in the mornin'.'

Rogers was flabbergasted.

'It was two weeks ago,' he said astonished.

She started sobbing again.

'An' all the time I was hopin' the message was wrong. I want me ma...'

There was a sound of footsteps outside.

'Cooey! Ruby, is yer there?' Mary shouted from the doorway.

Chapter 52

Freddie

Freddie Asker was a rebel from an early age. Unlike his younger siblings, Maggie and Wilf, he was always looking for trouble and usually found it. He was four years old when his father died and he frequently ran away from home and went looking for him.

On one occasion the police brought him home from a Surrey Hills farm where he had gone to ask the farmer if he had seen Andrew Asker, the drover. At seven he disappeared for three weeks. The police brought him back again dirty, hungry and with his clothes in tatters. They warned Ruby that if it happened again they would place her children in an orphanage.

Ruby had gone back to her old job at Watson's Hotel shortly after Andrew died but it was a struggle to earn enough money to feed and clothe herself and the three children. Mary helped by minding them while Ruby worked long hours six days a week but the problem with Freddie was that he wanted his father. Other kids had their fathers but he didn't and it wasn't fair. He was uncontrollable and went through a stage where he hung around the markets and docks.

Ruby could visualize the Asker family wheel turning a full circle. She had heard so much about old Nathaniel from Andrew and Mary. Young Freddie was Nathaniel reincarnated. He seemed destined to go through the cycle of street life, poverty, crime and brutal punishment followed by a life-long search for a fair go. She was in no doubt that old Nathaniel, then Andrew and now Freddie, had deserved better than they got. Andrew had started out well but in the end fate had sold him short too. Ruby spent most of her non-working time searching for her errant son around the back streets, alleys, vacant lots and the farms that lay beyond the growing suburbs. Her nights were spent in tears and despair.

Freddie Asker's street life days came to an abrupt end on a warm sunny autumn day when he and an older lad stole a horse which just happened to be harnessed to a wagon load of prime meat destined for a butcher's shop. They figured that they could deliver the meat, get paid for it and sell the horse and cart. With the cash they would be able to travel the world forever.

Unfortunately the George Street butcher recognized the horse and wagon but not the juvenile driver so he sent his assistant to bring the police. The pair aged eight and ten were placed in the new Darlinghurst jail overnight and then taken before a judge next morning. The judge went to great lengths to point out to them the folly of their ways and the seriousness of their crime. Stealing a horse and wagon and a load of produce, then attempting to sell them, would normally warrant imposing the death penalty but due to their age they would be given another chance – after five years jail with hard labor.

Chapter 53

Darlinghurst

Both lads were marched back to Darlinghurst to begin their sentences, starting with a flogging from the guards. The next day, bleeding and miserable, they were assigned to a roading gang and put to work. As they trudged along the dusty road to the work site an old convict walking at Freddie's side spoke to him in a confidential tone.

'So yer be an Asker, eh?'

Freddie turned his head quickly to look at the old man. He was tall and very lean with a weather-beaten, sharp-featured, expressionless face and grey thinning hair.

'Don't look at me, Asker. Just look right in front an' keep yer voice down.'

'Why?'

'Cos the screws will hammer the shit outta yer.'

'Screws?'

'Yeah, screws, guards, wardens, call 'em what yer like but don't trust the bastards, sonny.'

'Thanks, mister. They already flogged us last night. Can 'ardly walk now.'

'What was yer pa's name, Asker?'

'Andrew Asker. You know 'im, mister?'

'I did know 'im when 'e was alive. Is you Freddie Asker?'

Asker was tempted to take another quick look at the old timer but thought better of it.

'Yeah. I be Freddie Asker. How'd yer know?'

'Yer pa told me all about yer, Freddie. We was old mates when we was drovers.'

'How come yer ain't still a drover, mister?'

'Cos I be in 'ere, that's why. Now you listen here, Freddie. Yer pa was the best boss any man could ever want an' a bloody good mate too. So while yer be in 'ere yer can consider me t' be yer pa. I'll be watchin' out for yer an' showin' yer the ropes. Yer know what I mean?'

The old man and the boy walked on in silence for a while as a guard walked the line in the opposite direction. They both looked straight ahead.

'What be yer name, mister?' Freddie asked when the guard had gone.

'Joker Hammond,' he said quietly.

'Why's yer in jail, Mr Hammond?'

'Cos I got a bit drunk an', well... Never mind about that, lad. I'll tell yer some other time.'

They stopped talking as another guard went by.

'Don't trust any o' them bastards. They're as mean as shit, Freddie.'

The guards marched the convicts to Surrey Hills where the new Crown Street road construction site awaited them. After the long walk some of the older convicts were exhausted but the merciless guards ordered them to work and it was too much for one old timer. When he slumped to the ground and broke down like a baby, the overseer ordered fifty lashes. The old man took his flogging with a grunt and a reflex jerk as each lash bit into his flesh. At the end they untied him and let him collapse to the ground. They ordered him onto his feet and back to work. He struggled with one knee still on the ground, heaved to get the rest of the way up, and crumpled to the ground again clutching his chest. Within minutes he was dead and the overseer ordered the convicts to dig a grave for him and warned the gang that a similar fate would be awaiting any man who refused to work. Young Freddie decided that there was no future in being a weakling. He would have to get smart.

Chapter 54

The Cardsharp

Back at the jail that night he was placed in a cell with Joker Hammond. When the guards were not looking Hammond produced a pack of cards from a concealed pocket in his dungarees.

'When yer gets out o' here, Freddie, folks is gonna point at yer an' say there goes an ex-convict. It'll always be hard t' make a living. It's just a fact o' life,' Hammond said as he shuffled the pack. 'You'll always be paid less than other men, just because you're an ex-con. But there's a sure way to earn a little extra, or a bit o' quick money, when yer be down on yer luck. Yer do it with these.' He held the pack up for Freddie to see. 'Yer 'ave five years t' learn, lad, an' the best teacher in the colony t' learn from. Yer see, Joker Hammond learned from the great Ace Martinez, the most skilled cardsharp the world has ever seen. Yer pa knew a trick or two, too. He was a sharp player but I was better an' 'e knew not t' play against me.'

'Tell me about Ace, what's 'is name?' Freddie asked.

'Ace Martinez. I met 'im in Hoboken, New York, when me ship called there in the twenties. Got into a game with several others an' we thought we was pretty good until Ace took us all down for some dollars. We was all pretty fired up by this Martinez an' ready to launch 'im into the Hudson River. But he knew how to calm us down by teachin' us how t' do it. There was no doubt about it 'e was a real expert with a pack. Then 'e told me 'e was sailin' fer London on a ship called the Claymont so I decided t' jump me ship an' join the Claymont too, so I could learn some more from Mr Ace Martinez. He taught me lots more as we crossed the Atlantic an' in London we played together as a team. Then 'e headed for the European ports an' I set out for Australia. I never seen 'im again from that day t' this but I've met lots o' card players that believes they was beaten by Ace in ports round the world an' a few that reckons they actually beat him, which I takes with a grain o' salt. He was a legend.'

'Really?'

'Yeah, really,' Hammond replied as he shuffled the cards.

'I could shuffle 'em like that.' Freddie reached for the pack.

'Okay, mate. Let's see how yer go.'

A minute later Hammond took them back, picked up the dropped cards and turned the ones that were facing the wrong way. He gave them a quick shuffle and started dealing from the bottom of the pack.

'Here they come, lad. Ace, King, Queen, Jack, Ten, all in Hearts.'

Freddie was spellbound.

'How did yer do that, mister?'

'I'll show yer tomorrow,' he whispered as the guard approached their cell.

In an instant the pack disappeared into the secret pocket in the dungarees. They waited until the guard had passed.

'Remember whatever happens round 'ere just stay close t' ol' Joker Hammond an' I'll see yer right.'

'So why is yer called Joker?'

'Cos me mates knew that I wanted t' be better than Ace Martinez an' a Joker be higher than an Ace. A Joker can be anything yer want. Nothin' beats a Joker, lad. I'll teach yer somethin' else too. In 'ere yer 'ave t' learn how t' use yer fists an' ol' Joker be just the fella t' teach yer that too.'

Chapter 55

Freedom

For the next three years Hammond kept his promise to be Freddie's protector and tutor. Then Hammond got his freedom and Freddie Asker had to fend for himself in a jail that was overcrowded and overrun by violent bullies, murderers, rapists and fraudsters. For Freddie there was no respite from the older thugs and the self-righteous guards, who were also vicious bullies. However there was one highlight at the end of each week when, without fail, Ruby came to visit him on Sundays with Maggie, Wilf and Granny Mary.

As the time approached for his release from jail Freddie Asker became sick. Consumption was rife in the jail and highly contagious. He lost weight and developed a fever and severe cough. He was flogged by the guards for failing to do his share of the road construction work.

Finally the guards paraded him before the superintendent.

'You've done your time, Asker, and if you come back in here again the first thing you'll get will be a severe flogging,' the superintendent said sternly.

'I'd rather be dead first, sir,' he promptly replied.

The superintendent glared at him.

'Did I ask you to speak, Asker?'

'No, sir.'

'Then keep your insolent convict mouth shut until ordered otherwise.'

Asker stared back at him, silently noting every detail of his brutish face. He wished that he could meet him again outside the jail one day in a situation where he could deploy some of the skills he had learned from Joker Hammond.

'Now be off with you,' the superintendent bellowed.

As the giant gates slammed shut behind him Freddie Asker started running towards Windmill Street. It was great to be alive and free. He would never go back to that rotten lock-up ever again, if he had anything to do with it. Even though he had been sick for a year or more he still thought of himself as bigger and stronger than other lads his age. He was confident that he could do any kind of work that was available. With the special skills that his father's old mate, Joker Hammond, had taught him the world would be his oyster. He ran only a short distance before he was exhausted and slowed to a walk, his free spirit driving him onward in spite of his ever-tiring body. Eventually he staggered to the shade of a leafy tree and sat down for a rest. Within minutes he was asleep.

When the young ex-convict awoke the sun had shifted and the tree no longer provided cool shade. At first, when Freddie Asker opened his eyes, he thought that he had been flogged again and fallen unconscious. For a moment he imagined that he could feel the savage cuts of the lash across his back. His throat was parched dry and his legs and belly ached, but that was nothing new. Then he remembered he was free again. Slowly, he got to his feet and trudged off towards Windmill Street. When he reached the street he struggled to find the house. After such a long time everything seemed different. At last he saw it and, summoning the last of his energy, started running again.

Chapter 56

The Blacksmith

'I be home, ma,' he shouted as he burst through the doorway and into the small parlor.

Ruby stood for a moment looking as though she had seen a ghost and then she threw her arms around him and they wept tears of joy.

'Freddie, me lovely lad, it's so nice t' see yer. Home at last.'

'Home t' stay, ma.'

'No more runnin' away?'

'No more runnin' away, ma, ever again. I has t' be the man o' the house now. I'm gonna get a job an' earn enough money t' keep us all.'

Ruby held him at arms length for a moment and looked into his pallid face.

'First I's gonna nurse yer back t' health, Freddie. Meanwhile, we ain't got much but we'll make do.'

'There ain't nothin' wrong with me, ma,' he lied.

For the first time in five years Freddie slept in a bed. Ruby convinced him that he needed rest and for several days he stayed indoors and allowed Ruby to feed him lots of delicious food. By Saturday he was starting to feel some energy returning to his emaciated body and he was keen to get out looking for employment but with most businesses closed on Sunday he was forced to wait another day.

On Monday he walked passed several establishments without pausing to go in. But when he came to a blacksmith's forge, where an old man was busily working on some wagon wheels, he suddenly knew that he wanted to be a smithy. He had heard that his grandfather had worked for a smithy in Bathurst but he gave little thought to the occupation until that moment. He watched the man working for a few minutes. It was hot heavy dirty work.

'Me grandpa was a blacksmith,' he told the man.

'What was his name?' the man asked casually without looking up from his anvil.

'Nathaniel Asker, sir.'

The man dropped his maul and stared at Freddie in disbelief.

'Nathaniel Asker! He your grandpa? What's your name?'

'Freddie Asker.'

'Well blow me down. Who was your pa, lad?'

'Andrew Asker. He was a famous cattle drover,' Freddie answered proudly.

'Well I'll go t' hell.'

'Did yer know 'im, mister?'

'Know 'im? We were mates! Your grandpa an' my pa worked in the forge together and your pa an' me knocked around together when we was kids. Ain't seen hide nor hair of 'im in years. Yer can tell yer folks you've run into Horace Katterns, son o' Hector Katterns, first blacksmith in Bathurst.'

'I'll tell me ma. Me pa died in a cattle rush when I was four.'

'Sorry t' hear that, lad.'

He studied Freddie in silence for a moment.

'You lookin' for work, Freddie?'

'Yes, sir.'

'I'll pay yer five bob a week. That enough?'

'Yes, sir. When can I start?'

'You live with yer ma?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Where does she live?'

'Windmill Street.'

'Righto, lad. You've got an hour t' tell yer ma where you are an' yer can start soon as yer get back 'ere.'

'Thanks, mister. I'll be back afore the hour. You'll see.'

Chapter 57

The Goldfields, 1851

Freddie Asker was lucky to have a job that paid five shillings a week at the mid point of the nineteenth century. Many places in the western world were experiencing a severe depression. Millions of people lived and died in desperate poverty. In Canada, where the depression was most severe, the people sought union with the United States of America and were flatly rejected. But California, the scene of the world's first major gold stampede, the campaign was successful and California became the thirty-first state of the USA. In China a major rebellion lasted fourteen years and cost thirty million lives. London, still poverty stricken, became the world's largest city with two and a half million people.

Then in Australia came the most exciting news. At Lewis Ponds Creek, near Bathurst, Edward Hargraves discovered gold and three weeks later John Lister and William Tom found the prized yellow metal at Ophir near Bathurst. That was just what the severely depressed economy needed. Men raced to Bathurst in their thousands to make a fortune. Bathurst, where the Askers had tried to succeed and failed, was revitalized overnight. If the Asker's had known what lay in the creeks of the district, their dream could have been realized.

Men came from all over Australia and from all over the world. Most came totally unprepared. A few, like Hargraves, had been to California and set out well stocked with rations and equipment. They walked, rode horses, drove bullocks, traveled on wagons and drays and even pushed wheelbarrows. They included bolting convicts, their jailers, the unemployed, drovers deserting their herds, and sailors deserting their ships. Even teachers, lawyers and bankers rushed to the end of the rainbow. The lure of easy gold almost emptied the towns of Sydney, Newcastle and Parramatta. As the tide of humanity streamed across the Great Dividing Range news reached them of new gold strikes at Turon River, Araluen and Hill End.

In the second wave of stampeders young Freddie Asker walked the road that his grandfather had first traveled forty years earlier. For Freddie the gold rush promised riches beyond the wildest dreams of his father and grandfather. He also believed that the skills learned from old Joker Hammond would stand him in good stead whenever he encountered miners who had struck it lucky at the diggings.

As he neared the Bathurst Plains he met the first diggers returning to the east. A few carried a small fortune in gold but most had quit in bitter disappointment. An old lag he had known in Darlinghurst told him that he had seen Joker Hammond on the goldfields. That news urged him to quicken his pace. In the early evening he saw a group of men gathered round a campfire playing cards in the fading light. Timidly, he asked if he could join them and when they heard the jingle of his coins they readily agreed.

Freddie squatted opposite two massive men who were boasting loudly about the enormous nugget they had found and exchanged for cash with a gold buyer from Sydney. They believed they were set for life and were hurrying back to Sydney to invest their fortunes. Eagerly they encouraged young Freddie to contribute to their sudden wealth. Each man placed some cash in the pot and a man called Roy McDougal dealt the first hand. Freddie drew only a pair of Eights but decided to stay in the game when it was his turn to bet. McDougal and his mate Blue Gilbert upped the betting and Freddie stayed in for another round before dropping out. The two big diggers went another round, betting against each other before showing their hands. Freddie, in mock innocence, had already revealed his pair of Eights when McDougal put down a full house with Queens and Tens. Then, with a broad smile, Gilbert spread out his cards showing three Kings and a pair of Sevens.

'Jeez, Mister. So who wins?' Freddie asked, acting dumb.

'I do, lad!' Gilbert said triumphantly as he scooped up his winnings.

'You still in, lad?' another digger asked, as he shuffled the pack ready for the next hand.

'Yeah sure, mister. I've got enough for another go.'

'Good on yer, lad. Yer can't win, if yer ain't in.'

'What's yer name, lad?'

'Freddie Reksa,' he lied casually, as he reversed his surname in an old trick learned from a Darlinghurst inmate.

As the light faded Freddie was dealt an Ace, two Kings a Seven and a Six. He discarded the Seven and Six, and picked up another Ace and a Nine. Then, unnoticed by the other players, using smooth skill he palmed the Nine and one of the Kings and substituted them for the two Aces he had palmed from the previous hand. It was his turn to bet first and he hesitated for a long time as though unsure. Finally, he ventured a small bet and waited for his turn to come round again. Each man was confident that he could settle the young wet-behind-the-ears Johnny-come-lately. At the end of the first round he hesitated again before finally raising the betting a little. All the players stayed in for the next round as the betting escalated. In the following rounds the players threw their hands in one by one until only Freddie and Roy McDougal were still in the game.

'Where's yer from, Freddie?' McDougal asked from behind his chubby poker face.

'Melbourne,' Freddie lied again and hoped that McDougal didn't question him further in case he trapped him with things about Melbourne that he couldn't explain.

McDougal allowed his eyes to dwell on the younger player's face.

Freddie moved uncomfortably in his squatting position and pretended not to notice that McDougal was staring at him.

'Jeez, mister, I hope you're gonna finish this hand pretty soon. I'm busting for a piss.'

'Hold yer piss, lad, until the game be finished. Then yer can piss yer guts out. Meanwhile your bet, Freddie, me lad.'

'I'll be seein' yer then, mister,' Freddie called, as he put the last of his cash into the pot.

McDougal raised himself up a few inches and raised his arm even higher. There was a greedy grin all over his chubby face as he brought his arm down and slammed his cards down with such gusto that Freddie almost fell over backwards getting out of the way.

'Full on Queens!' McDougal roared and sat back to watch Freddie's reaction.

Freddie appeared confused as he laid down his own hand.

'Well I'll go to Hell, mister. I've won a hand, ain't I?' Quickly, he scooped up his winnings, leaving enough for his own dealer's bet. 'Can yer wait while I take me piss? I'll be right back. I'm startin' to like this game.'

He raced into the gathering shadows, tugging at his dungarees as he ran. He was confident that the players would wait a reasonable time for him to return and he ran for an hour before resting up for the night.

Chapter 58

A Straight Flush

Late the next day, when Freddie Asker arrived at the next diggings, he knew that the majority of diggers left empty-handed and disappointed. Only a very few ever found enough gold to earn a living and even fewer made it rich. Nevertheless he purchased some equipment cheap from a digger, who had given up, and went to work where the other man had left off. All the while he kept a lookout for Joker Hammond.

One by one, as evening approached, the diggers stopped work and started cooking their tucker on campfires and boiling their billies for tea. Large numbers of men simply crawled into their swags and slept cold, hungry and exhausted. Nearby some noisy diggers celebrated a windfall with a game of poker. The grog flowed freely and there were loud boasts about the size of the nuggets they had found and how any fool could make it rich if he really wanted to. Freddie Asker watched them, having learned from Hammond that rapidly changing fortunes, for better or worse, will bring out the gambling instincts that may otherwise lie dormant in many men. Nearby, on the crude wall of a grog shanty, Freddie saw a notice offering a reward for the capture of some outlaws. Frank Gardiner and Will Bethune were wanted dead or alive and an artist had drawn sketches of the two. Fifty pounds was the reward and Freddie wondered how a man would feel having a bounty on his head. A frustrated growl from one of the diggers in the card game brought Freddie's attention back to the men in front of him. He watched several players for a few minutes then asked in his boyish voice if they would teach him to play.

'Na,' said a rough looking old digger. 'This is serious stuff, kid. Come back when yer fifteen an' got some gold to play with.'

'I've got some cash, mister,' Freddie replied timidly as he jingled his coins.

'Wadda yer reckon, fellas?' a digger asked the other players.

There was an exchange of winks and sly smiles.

'I reckon if the kid's got the right dosh let 'im in,' a rat-faced little man said in a high pitched voice and the others nodded in agreement. Unnoticed, Freddie studied the rat-faced man's expressions and body language. He would have to be wary. Ratface had a nasty streak.

Once again Freddie let the others do the early winning and pretended to be a complete novice. Then he substituted some palmed cards and eased the betting up higher and higher until only one other player remained in the game. When it was over the digger laid down two pairs and Freddie laid down a Straight Flush in Diamonds.

'You cheated, lad!' the big man opposite bellowed.

'Honest, mister. I don't even know how to play let alone cheat. I never played before,' Freddie protested innocently.

Suddenly Ratface pulled a pistol and held it against Freddie's temple.

'Yer shouldn't a tried to cheat me mate, kid,' he screeched in Freddie's ear.

A solid man with a gruff voice and an air of authority intervened.

'Leave 'im alone, yer pansy twit, an' stop makin' as if yer gonna shoot that thing. Put it away afore yer get hurt.'

'Let 'im be, Harry,' another player urged. 'We'll soon win it back from the whippersnapper.'

Ratface backed the pistol off several inches but continued to glare at Freddie with his blazing eyes as he slowly sat down.

'Where yer from, kid?'

'Melbourne, mister.'

'Melbourne, eh. Well you deal, kid, an' deal straight or I'll blow yer brains out,' he said as he slowly withdrew the pistol from Freddie's face.

With genuinely shaking hands Freddie gathered up his winnings, leaving enough for the new pot, and started shuffling the pack. Several times through genuine nervousness he dropped cards and had to start again. Finally he managed to deal them out and pick up his own hand. Suddenly he looked across at Ratface and placed his cards face down.

'Shit, mister, yer really scared me with that gun. I'm almost pissin' me self. I gotta go for a piss right now.'

Once more Freddie was running for the shadows and tugging urgently at his dungarees. He wanted to return to his claim and his gear but his winnings were worth a lot more, so he kept on running. Somewhere behind him he heard the shrill voice again.

'You hurry back 'ere, kid, or I'll be comin' after yer.'

As he ran he realized that if he was to continue his double life of digger and gambler he would have to arm himself as protection against bullies and screwballs like Ratface Harry.

Chapter 59

Joker Hammond

Two days later Freddie Asker arrived at another goldfield. After sizing up the situation he took over from another digger who was abandoning his claim to return to Sydney a broken man. The next day Freddie struck gold for the first time. It was only a small amount but it was a start and it was like a red rag to a bull for the digger on the adjoining claim. He had been at it for weeks without any success and was angered that young Freddie could be so lucky so soon. The digger started hacking into the thin earth wall that separated the two claims. Both holes were about seven feet deep and Freddie called over the top when the wall started to shake. The digger ignored him and kept on digging into the partition. Freddie climbed out of his hole and spoke to the man.

'You're breakin' into me claim, mister,' he accused.

'Ain't your claim, sonny.'

''Tis now, mister.'

'Wadda yer gonna do about it?'

'Ask yer to stop.'

The man laughed and continued hacking into the wall. Freddie watched him in silence for a moment before he spoke again.

'If your pick comes through on my side, mister,' he said with cool determination, 'I'm going to kill yer.'

The miner laughed.

'You? Kill me? Yer couldn't kill shit, sonny. An' if yer did I got mates 'ere who would soon take care o' you.'

'Don't do it, mister, 'cos I mean business,' Freddie retorted and went down into his hole again.

The shaking and thudding continued. Freddie felt the reassuring bulge of the revolver in his dungarees. Seconds later, the wall collapsed and the digger scrambled through the gap shouting gleefully at Freddie.

'See, sonny. I'm through and yer ain't killed me.'

Freddie aimed the revolver at the man's chest.

'Get back on yer own side, mister. This claim is mine.'

'I'm gonna get yer, boy. I'm gonna have yer gold an' I'm gonna have yer tight little arse too. So put that thing away afore it goes off.'

'Stop right there!'

The man laughed again as other diggers gathered to watch the confrontation. Some shouted encouragement to one combatant, some to the other, but no one tried to intervene. Freddie Asker kept stepping back until his back was against the side of the pit. Then, when there was nowhere else to go, he pulled the trigger at point blank range. In the confines of the hole the explosion was ear splitting. Freddie watched in horror as the man's expression of triumphant glee, turned to one of shocked disbelief and mortal agony.

'You've killed me mate, yer little arsehole!' A rough looking digger called down from the top of the bank. 'I'm gonna get yer fer that. You're dead, boy!'

Leave 'im be!' another shouted.

But the man took his first step toward the edge of the pit and there was another explosion from Freddie's right hand. The miner toppled backward into the adjoining claim and landed with a heavy thud. A third man immediately appeared above and Freddie aimed again. They were coming at him so fast he could scarcely believe the predicament that he found himself in. Only the sound of his own name stopped him from firing his third shot.

'Freddie! Don't shoot! It's me, Joker.'

'Let's string the little bastard up,' someone shouted above the commotion.

'Keep yer hands off 'im. The lad's innocent,' Joker shouted above the noise as more diggers appeared from nowhere.

'You alright, Freddie?' Joker asked.

Freddie blinked several times as he tried to grapple with the reality of having shot two men and then having his old guardian angel turn up to rescue him from a lynching mob. It was too much to comprehend. He stared in disbelief at the smoking revolver and he started to shake. There was no movement from the slumped body of the first bully but on the other side of the punctured wall he could hear the bully's mate gurgling on a mortal mixture of blood and breath. He looked up at Hammond.

'I dunno.' He paused and looked around again. 'Yeah... Guess I'm okay... Shit! What'm I gonna do?'

While the miners starting covering the dead men over in the pit others argued about who was right and who was wrong. Meanwhile Joker and Freddie decided that they were too well known on that goldfield.

'I hear there's good pickin's at Hill End,' Freddie said as he started recovering his composure.

'I was thinkin' the same. Let's go.

Chapter 60

Hill End

For three days they trudged across plains, over hills and along tree studded valleys. They were an odd sight, a rough old man and an innocent looking youth, but they were old mates who understood and respected each other perfectly, always ready to defend each other to the death. They were a pair of villains bound together by the memory of a long dead mate and father and a talent for separating fools from their money. As they walked the sun beat down relentlessly and at night when the last wisps of cloud had dissipated, the air became freezing cold. When they awoke in the morning after a night of fitful sleep it was to the sound and torment of thousands of ravenous blowflies crawling over their skin, even exploring inside their gaping mouths.

'At least we'll never starve while we've got them little buggers to be eaten,' Joker said as he took a swipe at a cloud of flies.

'Yeah. But they'd go better as sauce on beef or mutton.'

'Beggars can't be choosers, mate. So open yer mouth, finish yer breakfast an' let's get going.'

As they approached the shantytown Hammond offered some more advice to his old mate's son.

'Yer know, Freddie, there be no need for yer to use yer gun.'

Freddie looked surprised.

'Wadda yer mean? They was gonna kill me, wasn't they?'

'Yeah, sure they was. But I did teach yer how to use yer fists, didn't I?'

'Well, yeah.'

'So use yer fists. Guns make too much noise. Maybe yer needs some practice.'

'Maybe.'

'Leave it to me. I'll set somethin' up for yer.'

'How?'

'Never mind now, but you'll know when the time comes,' Hammond replied confidently.

At Hill End they found little gold but that was of no concern because they made good money from card sharping. Freddie noticed that his partner frequently caused bother with other miners and gamblers. He would often insult them and even threaten them, which seemed a dangerous habit for a man of his age. One afternoon as the sun was going down a red-headed miner took exception.

'Say that again an' I'll knock yer friggin' block off!' the angry miner told Hammond as he leapt to his feet.

'Sit down, Red,' Hammond said casually. 'Or I'll get me mate 'ere to deal with yer.'

Freddie was on his feet in an instant.

'Too bloody right,' he warned the miner. 'If yer don't apologize to me mate, I'll knock your friggin' block off.'

The man was bigger and stronger than Freddie and stood his ground. Freddie knew that Hammond had tricked him, but he disliked the man anyhow. An instant later a barrage of swift blows to the head angered the man even further and he fought back like a demon.

'Come on, Freddie!' Hammond shouted. 'Pummel the shit out o' him. Come on, Freddie. Yer can do it. Remember what I taught yer. Keep yer mitts up to protect yer head. Keep close in an' hammer the shit out o' him.'

A crowd soon gathered to watch the fight. Asker initially had the edge due to surprise, speed and a solid punch. Joker Hammond, having deliberately created the opportunity, started taking bets. But Red still fought back bravely and most bets were on him to win. He had a powerful punch but Asker rarely stayed still long enough for the blows to connect. Each time Red swung a haymaker Asker danced lightly out of reach before moving in with another rapid barrage to catch his opponent off balance. Eventually the fight started to go Asker's way and Hammond stopped taking bets.

Another barrage landed and Red sank to his knees.

'Enough! Enough!' he pleaded.

Hammond lifted Freddie Asker's arm high in the air to a mixture of applause and jeers.

'The new champ of Hill End,' he shouted triumphantly.

Then he started settling with the winners and losers.

After that Freddie was more confident and the other miners were less inclined to threaten him when a game went against them. Even when Blue Gilbert arrived in the shantytown late one afternoon Asker was not bothered about him. However he knew that cardsharping was a dangerous game and so, as additional protection, he frequently practiced shooting with his revolver and became quite a marksman. They stayed several weeks before working other goldfields. But then Asker felt the call of home.

'Think I'll head for Bathurst, buy a horse and go home,' he told Hammond one day.

'I'll miss yer, mate,' Hammond replied. 'I hear they've found gold in Victoria at a place called Beechworth, so I'll be headin' that way.'

'Thanks, old mate. I'd be dead without yer.'

'Yer take care now, Freddie.'

As Asker rode through the countryside he always kept his revolver handy in case of an attack by bushrangers and he constantly worried about being discovered by cheated gamblers. He knew that he could hold his own in a fist fight with just about any man and he was a good shot with a gun. He was old enough and experienced enough to understand that only the toughest, shrewdest and most bloodthirsty men survived.

Everywhere on the goldfields men died miserable deaths from starvation, disease, accidents, gunshot wounds and stabbings, while others met their end on the gallows. He knew that earlier generations of his family had tried to succeed by hard work and honesty, but the more privileged, influential, the well educated and the wealthy had always beaten them down. The only 'school' Freddie had been to was Darlinghurst prison – the 'School of Hard Knocks' as the guards used to call it. But, he was determined his younger siblings, Maggie and Wilf, would get a good education. He would see to it, even if it was the last thing he did and he had no compunction about bending rules to make it happen.

Chapter 61

Will Bethune

Freddie Asker reached Piper's Flat early on a blazing hot afternoon and decided to have a rest under a shady tree on a small rise overlooking the road. He was satisfied that he was far enough away from the road to go unnoticed by travelers, but still close enough to see who was passing by. He had slept little the night before and was in a deep sleep within minutes. Hours later he awoke with a start. A stranger was removing the hobble from his horse. He froze. From his side view of the man he knew instantly that he had seen his picture at the goldfields. It was notorious bushranger, Will Bethune. Bethune had terrorized New South Wales for two years while on the run from Parramatta jail, where he had been sentenced to two hundred lashes for stealing food.

Without moving a muscle, Asker sized up the situation. He knew that one mistake would cost him his life. This bushranger was the ultimate desperado and his crimes committed on the run included numerous murders and armed robbery of mail coaches. If given half a chance he would make short work of Freddie Asker before stealing his cash, gold, horse and food and vanishing into the sundown. But Asker had one advantage over Bethune. Bethune did not know that Asker had woken up. With his gun drawn, he could march the bushranger to the police post at Lithgow and claim the reward for his capture. Fifty quid would be more than enough to get his younger brother and sister through school and to provide his ma with one or two luxuries as well.

Slowly he raised his revolver and aimed it at the thief but before he could shout his challenge, Bethune turned his head and thrust his hand towards his own gun so quickly that Freddie's eye almost missed the movement completely. He saw the flash of fire from the muzzle in the same instant that the shot rang out. A shock wave slammed into his face and he thought he was dead. A second later the blast reverberated throughout the valley. His horse reared up, neighed wildly, and bolted. Then, incredibly, Bethune's gun barrel slowly drooped and he collapsed to his knees as blood soaked his ragged shirt. Asker's own shot had found its mark without him being aware of having fired it. He clutched the side of his face expecting to find blood and a gaping hole. Miraculously, his face was intact.

Cautiously, and feeling very much alive again, Freddie moved closer to Bethune while keeping his revolver ready for another shot. Bethune spoke first.

'Yer did well, boy.' His voice was still surprisingly strong in spite of his injuries. 'No man ever beat Will Bethune to the draw till today.'

He coughed blood and gasped for breath.

'Yer would've shot me, mister. I 'ad no choice. I was only gonna take yer in,' Freddie explained apologetically.

'Yer right, boy. 'Twas you or me.' His voice had weakened and he paused to cough, almost choking on blood. 'Now yer be doin' the decent thing, boy, if yer just put me outta me misery.'

Bethune loosened his grip on his weapon and sank onto one elbow.

'What's yer name, boy?'

'Freddie Asker.'

'How old is yer, Freddie?'

'Fourteen, mister.'

'I'm eighteen, maybe nineteen. Not sure. It don't matter none now.'

As Bethune's voice grew weaker Freddie moved closer to hear him better. 'Don't mess up yer life like me, Freddie. It ain't no life on the run.'

As Freddie examined the sad specimen of human wreckage, Bethune coughed up more blood. He looked more than double his claimed age. His hair had already turned grey and his eyes had retreated into their wrinkled sockets. His clothes were in tatters and his body stench was nauseating. He looked up at Freddie with pleading eyes.

'Gimme another slug...' he croaked.

'I can't do that, Will,' Freddie answered as though they were old friends.

'I beg yer... Freddie... Let it be known... Will Bethune died... with is boots on... Gimme...' He started coughing again, suddenly stiffened, and then lay still.

For a long time Freddie Asker stared in shock at the bloodied corpse. Eventually, still holding the revolver in his shaking hand, he turned Bethune over and as he looked into the motionless eyes he was overcome with emotion and tears streamed down his young face. Not only had he murdered yet another man, he had murdered a man who could have been his friend. He was certainly a hero to many of the colony's downtrodden folk.

Eventually he pulled himself together and went looking for his horse but finding no trace of him in the fading light, he returned to where Bethune's body lay. The horse still carried his rations and equipment on its back and he was forced to spend a cold, miserable night in the open, with Bethune's body lying nearby.

Several times during the night he dozed off only to be woken suddenly from a dream in which Bethune was shooting him. With each shot he saw the flash of fire from Bethune's gun and felt the bullet rip through his head. Once he woke up running for his life and screaming in terror. He sat down, dozed off again and slept until sunrise.

He was tired, hungry and thirsty. He wondered what had happened to his horse and decided to start another search for it. He turned to look at the rising ground behind him and was surprised to find that he had slept the last part of the night near a crude adobe hut. He wondered if it belonged to Bethune. It was certainly well camouflaged by the surrounding trees. He noticed that it was positioned so that an occupant could see travelers on the road in a place that would give him five minutes or so to intercept them in a hold-up.

Inside he found some of flour, salted meat and other items on a bark table. In one corner was a rusty spade. He helped himself to a meal and decided to use the spade to give Bethune a burial.

He marked out an outline of a grave alongside the body and started digging. The ground was hard and dry and the sweat ran freely down his face and back. After a time he paused to rest and looked down at the body with its relentless staring eyes. There was no doubt in his mind that it was Bethune. He had seen the poster and the sketch was a good likeness. Freddie could soon be fifty quid better off but he had a dilemma. He couldn't carry the body to the police post without a horse. If he continued digging the grave it was unlikely that he would be able to bury it deep enough to put it out of the reach of dingoes, flies and a thousand-and-one other scavengers that would devour it in next to no time. Then he remembered something he had once heard; there's a solution to every problem. He sat and thought about it and then it came to him. The face resembled the sketch exactly and he could cut the head off and take it to the police at Lithgow.

He examined the cutting edge of the spade and, as he suspected, it was exceptionally blunt and rusty beneath several layers of hardened grime. But he thought that it would only take one solid, well-aimed blow to separate the bushranger's head from his emaciated body. Holding the spade aloft with both hands he positioned himself with a foot each side of the body. The eyes stared blankly up at him and huge flies crawled in and out of the gaping mouth full of congealed blood. He couldn't look any longer so he shut his eyes and thrust the spade downward with all his strength.

Freddie Asker almost vomited when he heard the sound of vertebrae being crushed under the impact and when he dared open his eyes again he was dismayed at the sight of the head still attached to the body. Quickly, as though to spare the outlaw further pain, he thrust the spade down again and again until at last the head rolled clear. Staring at the severed head he was overcome with emotion again so, sobbing loudly, he picked it up and cradled it in his arms like a wounded kitten.

'Shit, Will, I didn't wanna do this to yer, mate,' he cried as tears blurred his vision. 'But times is tough, mate, an' fifty quid is fifty quid.

He rocked quietly to and fro as though waiting for an answer from the severed head. Finally he placed the head on the ground and lowered the rest of the outlaw's body into the shallow grave. Before covering it over he looked up to the sky and prayed for the first time in his short life.

'If yer be up there, God, an' if yer be listenin' could yer have mercy on 'is soul? He wasn't really a bad man, God. He done some stealin' an' some murders when 'e 'ad no choice. There was folks down 'ere what made 'is life hell but there was other folks, like me, who thought 'e was a hero. So maybe you can decide, God. An' forgive me for cuttin' 'is head off. And I'll see yer later, if yer be still up there when it's me turn to come up.'

Asker finished filling in the grave and looked up to the sight of his horse emerging from the trees, still carrying his pack. Quickly, he tethered the animal to a tree and enjoyed his first good meal in twenty-four hours. While he ate he tried to estimate the wealth he had gained from the mining, gambling and the bounty he intended to claim. But claiming the bounty on Bethune was starting to weigh heavily on his conscience. An extra £50 would be a great bonus, he told himself, but he would still be pretty flush without it. He knew there was a likelihood that the police would claim the money for themselves and maybe even lock him up for his trouble. He looked at the separated head as it lay in the grass under a fresh onslaught of hungry flies and he made a decision. Damn the police. If he couldn't have the bounty they certainly wouldn't get it either. He unearthed the body and placed the head next to the severed vertebrae. Half an hour later Will Bethune was covered over again and Freddie Asker mounted his horse and rode away towards Sydney with a heavy heart and mixed feelings of sorrow, guilt and foolishness.

Chapter 62

Welcome Home

Freddie Asker went straight to Windmill Street and as he approached the house it looked different to the way he remembered it. The whole street looked different. The houses seemed smaller and older than he remembered. What if the family had moved during his fifteen-month absence on the goldfields? He opened the door and walked in.

'Gidday, ma. I'm home,' he called.

He could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed. He looked around at his mother's ageing furniture and realized that she still lived there but must be out working. He went to Watson's Hotel.

'Freddie, me lovely lad!' Ruby exclaimed as he walked into the hotel dining room where she was busy with several guests. Quickly she put the plates in front of the diners and rushed to embrace her long lost son.

'My, you've grown some an' yer looked just like yer pa when yer came in that door like that.' She looked up into his face and realized that he was already several inches taller than she was. 'An' yer gonna be 'andsome just like yer pa was.'

'Ma, don't say that,' he whispered. 'It's embarrassing with all these folks 'ere.'

Ruby was so excited she ignored his plea.

'This is me oldest lad, Freddie. He's just come from the goldfields.'

'Good on yer, Freddie,' one man said.

'Welcome home, young man,' said another.

'Did you bring some gold for me?' the first man asked with a grin.

The word that Freddie Asker was home again went around Windmill Street and The Rocks quickly and a large number of well-wishers called at Ruby's house that night. Among the first to arrive was Ruby's mother, Grandma Mary. Then the Barton's and young Toby Barton from up the street arrived and Mrs. Milligan whose large family had now grown up and left home. Jack and Maude Bushe arrived with their daughter, Lizzie, almost the same age as Freddie. Maggie and Wilf had grown and matured a lot during his absence and they spoke very politely, always taking care with their grammar and pronunciation. Evidently that was because of Ruby's insistence that they attend school even though she could ill afford the fees. Maggie and Lizzie had always been close friends and Freddie noticed that Lizzie had grown up a lot too. He thought she looked stunningly beautiful and he had great difficulty taking his eyes away from her. Even when he was talking to someone else his eyes invariably swung in her direction like a compass needle seeking magnetic north.

'It's good to see you home again, Freddie,' Mrs. Milligan said.

'It's good to be home again, Mrs. Milligan,' Freddie said as his eyes flicked back to Lizzie.

'You really do look a lot like your pa. He was a handsome man and a very kind man too. Folks used to say he would give the shirt off his back to help someone in need. When my husband was lost at sea and I was left with seven children your pa came to our rescue more than once. Not that he could really afford to. It was just the way he was – a really kind man. More's the pity he isn't here to see his own children growing up.'

Horace Katterns was at his elbow but his attention had returned to Lizzie again.

'When are yer coming back to work for me, Freddie? It's hard t' get good people these days what with everyone rushing off to the goldfields.'

'Don't know, Mr Katterns. I ain't finished with the goldfields meself, but maybe one day I'll be back.'

'Anytime, Freddie,'

'Tell yer what, Mr Katterns. I'm thinkin' maybe I'll go t' Beechworth this time. They tell me it's pretty good there an' I've got a mate there. So when I come back, maybe we could talk about me bein' a partner in the forge, or just buyin' it outright. Wadda yer say?'

'We'll see, Freddie.'

Chapter 63

The Mob

Freddie Asker stayed in Sydney for three days and gave Ruby money to pay for the next year of Maggie and Wilf's education. With his horse loaded with provisions and mining gear, he was ready to strike out again. Included in his pack was extra ammunition for his revolver and several packs of cards. Ruby and Maggie threw their arms around him and wept. Wilf shook his hand like a grown up man. Lizzie Bushe suddenly appeared out of nowhere to wish him luck too. Again Freddie thought she looked absolutely stunning.

'Take care out there, Freddie, me lad,' Ruby cautioned. She had seen the blood on his clothes when he arrived home and she could only guess at what had happened. 'There's some pretty nasty folks these days and watch out for them bushrangers.'

'I'll be careful, ma,' he said, trying to sound reassuring.

'They'll kill yer quick as look at yer.'

'Yeah. I know, ma.'

Then Toby Barton, several years younger than Freddie, appeared too.

'Good luck, Freddie. I wish my folks would let me go to the goldfields.'

'When yer be older, Toby, I'll take yer with me.'

'I'll be waiting, Freddie. There are two things I want to do. I want to be a gold prospector and I want to be a prize-fighter. I reckon you could teach me both.'

'I will, Toby, when yer be old enough.'

Two days after crossing the Murray River on a small punt he arrived at Beechworth on a blazing hot afternoon. It had been a long, tiring journey from Sydney and he was pleased that at last he could stay in one place for a few days, and hopefully make some money. As he neared the center of the frontier Victorian town he noticed a large crowd gathered in the dusty main street. Experience had taught him that it was always wise to keep a low profile whenever he first entered a goldfield shantytown. Quietly, Freddie slipped behind one of the few permanent buildings, hitched his horse to a shady tree, and made his way through the lines of deserted tents and rough shanties to where he could watch the crowd without being seen. Suddenly he realized what was happening. This was a lynching mob and the whole town had turned out to bay for blood and watch the spectacle of a man ending his life by hanging. Two muscular ruffians had the prisoner pinned to the ground while the miners' committee tried to shout above each other about what should happen to the prisoner. A crude wooden structure had been erected to serve as the gallows and an evil looking hangman stood by eagerly rubbing his hands together as he waited for the committee to make up their minds.

'Hang the bastard now!' an angry miner bellowed above the turmoil.

'Hangin's too good for the rotter. Rip 'is guts out an' feed 'em to the dogs.'

Freddie Asker cautiously moved in closer to the mob. He recognized some faces from the Bathurst goldfields. This was a dangerous place for him. One of the diggers was busy stretching the rope. It was Roy McDougal, who had been cheated by Freddie at Bathurst. Near McDougal, the man who seemed to be the committee chairman tried to restore order but the crowd was shouting him down. The hangman mounted the crude platform.

'Fetch the bastard up 'ere,' he shouted drunkenly.

'Wait!' the chairman demanded. 'We haven't tried him yet. He may be innocent.'

'Like shit he's innocent.'

'Send 'im t' meet 'is maker!'

'Hang 'im by 'is knackers!'

'Wait!' the chairman pleaded desperately.

'Shut yer mouth or we'll string you up too!'

'Up 'ere, lads,' the hangman urged, as the two big ruffians took a new hold on the prisoner and sat him up ready for the lift onto the scaffold. The prisoner's back was turned to Asker. Several more diggers rushed in to help loft the prisoner onto the frame as the hangman formed a noose on the freshly stretched rope.

In an instinctive reaction to likely danger, Freddie Asker ran his fingers over the bulge where his revolver was concealed. It gave him some comfort to know that it was always ready for instant use. Then, as the ruffians turned the prisoner to face the crowd, he recognized the old man – Joker Hammond. He had to do something to rescue his old mate.

Chapter 64

The Hanging

The hangman's noose was ready to slip over Hammond's head. Freddie ran for his horse. Unhitching it and swinging into the saddle, almost in a single movement, he charged the angry mob from behind. The first shot slammed into the hangman's chest. As the big man slumped to his knees and slowly toppled off the back of the scaffold two more shots rang out for the two ruffians holding the prisoner. For an instant Joker Hammond wore the startled expression of a man who, expecting to be hung thought he had been shot instead. But in a flash the old trickster regained his grip on reality and rolled nimbly off the back of the scaffold, disappearing from sight.

In a daring blaze of bravado, Asker charged straight into the angry mob, firing and bellowing at them as he went. That was the last thing they had expected but Asker acted swiftly in a moment of desperation. Some miners and committee members tried to take aim but their shots went wild in the confusion. Most fell over backwards in an awkward attempt to get out of the path of the crazed horse and rider. Asker bent low in the saddle, the horse's mane whipping his face in the wind. At any second he expected his life to end with a bullet ripping through the flesh on his back. But given a chance, he would fight to beat the Asker's curse. Jesus! Ma, Maggie, Wilf, and Lizzie I love yer all, he told himself.

In his peripheral vision he saw movement. Joker Hammond was sprinting helter-skelter from tree to tree on his frantic flight to freedom. Asker could see that in spite of his amazing speed the old man was tiring and would soon be at the mercy of the lynchers.

'Freddie!' the old man gasped desperately.

Asker swerved his mount again to intercept the old man's path near a fallen tree trunk. Hammond saw the maneuver and quickly scrambled astride the mount using the log as a stairway while Asker sent his last bullet into the pursuing crowd. They charged down a wooded slope to safety and freedom. It was ten minutes before Hammond regained his breath enough to speak coherently.

'Freddie, me ol' mate, yer saved me bacon. I was done for.'

'Makes us even, don't it, ol' timer?'

'That's what mates is for, mate,' Hammond said still panting and clutching his chest. 'Thanks ol' mate.'

'Yer probably would've made it without me,' Freddie said modestly.

'No mate, I was slowin' like a worm in granite. You done good, Freddie.'

'I was scared, mate. It was crazy. Must 'ave got a rush of... Whatta they call it... Adra... Adrunalium or something... What's that stuff?'

'You mean adrenaline?'

'Yeah. I think so. I got a rush of it anyhow.'

'Yer wanna be careful, mate,' Hammond chuckled. 'Yer could fill yer dungarees with a rush o' brown adrenaline.'

The tension eased as they both laughed.

After several miles the old man and the youth stopped in a cluster of trees to rest and discuss their plans. They had seen nothing of the committee or miners since the ambush and both hoped they had outrun them. Hammond still appeared to be short of breath and sometimes clutched his chest. Freddie found himself shaking uncontrollable as the reality of his daring rescue sank in. He knew they were both lucky to be alive.

'I wanna go back to Sydney,' Freddie said thoughtfully. 'I think I've about 'ad enough o' gold mining an' card sharping. I wanna quiet life afore me luck runs out.

'We can't go to Sydney.' Hammond seemed surprised at Asker's apparent innocence. 'Melbourne's the best place for us, mate.

'Why?'

'We'll be declared outlaws, mate. We'll be hunted down like dingoes. We'll 'ave a bounty on our heads. Anyone will be able to shoot us an' claim the prize. We may be wanted in both colonies but they'll know we're from Sydney an' that's where they'll be lookin' for us.'

'No, mate, don't think so,' Freddie said, trying to sound confident even though he was still shaking.

Hammond stared at him in silence.

'I never told no-one I was from Sydney. You see I 'ad a mate in the clink, after you was freed, who was from Melbourne an' 'e told me all about the place. I can lie wid the best o' them about where I'm from.

Hammond eyed him with new respect.

'That's clever, Freddie. Matter o' fact I never told anyone where I was from. But there's always a chance some folks would know me from old.'

'We'll just 'ave to take that risk, mate.'

'Yeah. Okay.'

Chapter 65

The Cosa Nostra

Two weeks later as they neared Sydney Hammond became withdrawn.

'What's the matter, mate?' Freddie asked eventually.

'Nothin',' the old man answered in a non-committal tone.

Asker persisted.

'Come on, mate. What's wrong?'

Hammond looked at the ground while he considered the challenge from the youth.

'It's this, Freddie. When we get to Sydney I think we should go our separate ways again.'

'Why?'

'You've got yer future ahead o' yer, lad. You can get a job an' maybe settle down with that lass yer been talkin' about an' 'ave a big family. You can go back to the forge. As fer me I'm too old to get a decent job an' no right thinkin woman would want t' cohabitate with me. I'll just go on as the card sharp that I always was. It's the only thing left for me now. But I think I should get out of Australia for that. Been 'ere too long an' too many folks will be gettin' t' know me. Maybe I'll sign up for another ship an' start anew.'

'You'll be safe in Sydney, mate. I'll guarantee it.' Asker tried to reassure his old buddy. 'Me mate in the clink, he taught me some readin' an' writin' an' things like that. He also taught me how t' change me name. For instance, you an' me, we never told folks on the goldfields who we was, did we?'

'Well I never did.' Joker Hammond stared curiously at him.

'Well I did,' Asker countered with his cheeky smile. 'I told 'em you was John Drummond from Melbourne an' I was Freddie Reksa an' me folks was from Italy with connections to the Cosa Nostra.'

'You know about the Cosa Nostra?'

'Everyone knows about the Cosa Nostra... Well, actually me mate in the clink told me about them.'

They continued in silence for a few minutes.

'Yer wanna know somethin', Freddie?'

'What's that?'

'You're smarter than I thought.'

'I could beat yer at cards.'

'Wanna bet?'

Chapter 66

The Outlaw

Prices in Sydney had risen sharply with the gold rush but Horace Katterns was unable to increase Freddie Asker's wages enough to compensate for the higher prices. Asker decided that he would have to look at ways of earning extra income. On his way home from the forge one night he noticed a big crowd gathered in Cribb's Lane. Among them was Toby Barton.

'What's goin' on, Toby?'

'There's going to be a fight between Johnny Hood and Billy Brown. Seems they've had a disagreement and decided to settle it this way.'

The two combatants were evenly matched with each capable of giving back whatever he received. It was a real slogging match and the crowd continued to grow with some impromptu bookies, including Freddie, taking bets as the fight progressed. An hour later both fighters collapsed to the ground thoroughly bruised, bloodied and exhausted.

'Get up an' at 'im!' a bookie shouted in disgust.

'Don't be a bloody coward, Billy. Yer can whip the arse off 'im. Get up!'

The crowd roared as Billy Brown staggered to his feet, almost blinded by blood and sweat running into his eyes. Johnny Hood circled his opponent while he wiped the back of his hand across his own eyes. Staggering towards his target, Hood put the last of his strength into a wild swing at Brown's head. The blow connected and both youths toppled over backwards to lie breathless and bleeding while the crowd roared. Eventually Hood partially regained his feet again and, as Brown lay at his feet, he was declared the winner by the popular support of the crowd.

Freddie had an idea to supplement his meager income.

'I got some experience as a prize-fighter,' he told Barton. 'Think I'll set meself up as a promoter an' trainer.'

'Would you train me to prize-fight?'

'I'd love to, mate. I could do a special rate for yer. Two things are stoppin' me though. First yer too young, an' second, yer got a better future without prizefightin'.'

'I know my family see me as a top lawyer some day and I know I could do it. But I want to be an adventurer like you, Freddie. I want to travel the outback and maybe go to sea. Most of all I also want to be a prize-fighter and I can already handle myself pretty good in scraps with other kids. You could make me a professional. How about it, Freddie?'

'Yer ma an' pa would run me outta town, Toby.'

Barton watched the two bloodied fighters shaking hands. Their differences settled for the time being.

'I could negotiate on your behalf with Brown and Hood for a re-match and I could collect the admissions for you,' Toby offered.

'Yer make it hard to say no, mate.'

'If we staged the fight at the back of the Whaler's Arms it would be out of sight of the police and people would have to pay to see it.'

'Do yer think the publican would allow that?'

Toby Barton smiled shrewdly.

'Sure. He'd sell a lot more grog, wouldn't he?'

'Let's go an' see him.'

Barton eyed Asker shrewdly.

'Well?' he asked.

'Well what?'

'Will you train me to fight?'

'Okay, Toby. You win.'

The publican at the Whaler's Arms Hotel listened to their proposal in silence. He seemed non-committal as his eyes wandered to the wall notices behind where Freddie was standing. Asker followed the man's eyes and immediately his heart sank. He was standing alongside a notice that declared:

Frederick Reksa

(Formerly of Melbourne, Victoria)

WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE

For Murder, Armed Robbery & Fraud

REWARD £50

Chapter 67

The Prizefighters

The publican stepped forward and pulled the notice off the wall. It was a sure indication that he needed the notice to claim the reward. Asker was ready to flee again. But the artist's impression of the wanted man was such a poor reproduction that there was little likelihood of him being recognized. The publican turned the notice face down on the bar and started creating another notice on the reverse side.

Prizefight Prizefight!

Bully Brown v. Jaws Hood

WHALERS ARMS HOTEL - THIS SATURDAY

Entry One Shilling - Promoter Freddie Asker

With the new notice attached to the notice board Freddie Asker slipped quickly out the door of the Whaler's Arms just in case someone realized that Freddie Asker and Frederick Reksa were one and the same person.

Freddie's dreams of a quick fortune from prizefighting were dashed when only twelve people paid the shilling entrance fee. Being the new Freddie Asker with a conscience, people depending on him and the likely lady of his future waiting in Windmill Street, he knew that absconding with the meager proceeds was out of the question. He had promised ten shillings to the winner and five shilling to the loser, which left him three shillings out of pocket until young Toby went into the hotel and demanded payment from the people who had watched the fight through the hotel windows. Although many still refused to pay up he managed to extract another four shillings from the crowd and Freddie was able to settle with Hood and Brown without dipping into his own reserves.

Disappointed with the revenue from the fight, Freddie Asker decided against continuing in the prize-fight business. However he honored his promise to Toby Barton and continued with his lessons. Lizzie Bushe also went along to the coaching sessions in the lane at the back of the Whaler's Arms but her interest lay not in prize fighting but in claiming the handsome young Freddie as her prize after the other lads had gone home.

Meanwhile Ruby Asker was dealt another blow. She lost her job at Watson's Hotel when the business was sold and a large family moved in to run it. She tried taking in boarders at the little house in Windmill Street but even with Freddie's contribution there was barely enough to run the household and pay the education fees for Maggie and Wilf.

Ruby decided to sell the house and move into a larger one in nearby Caraher's Lane where properties were cheaper and she would have room for three or four boarders in addition to her own family. Caraher's Lane was a disgustingly vile alleyway between Cribb's Lane and Long's Lane. The poorest of Sydney's poor lived there in overcrowded squalor among stinking cesspits and piles of rotting garbage.

When Lizzie and Freddie discovered that they were soon to become parents, the Asker and Bushe households were thrown into turmoil. Jack and Maude Bushe banished Freddie from their home. They placed a curfew on their fourteen-year-old daughter and absolutely forbade her from seeing sixteen-year-old Freddie again. Jack Bushe made discreet enquiries in an endeavor to hire a safe abortionist so that any stigma that might attach to the family could be removed. However, before he had a chance to engage a quack, Lizzie went to Caraher's Lane in defiance of her parents.

'Have yer thought about yer future an' what yer gonna do?' Ruby asked the girl.

Lizzie looked to Freddie for an answer.

'We wanna be together, ma,' Freddie said without hesitation.

'What do you want, Lizzie?' she asked again.

'Yes. We wanna be together like a family, Mrs. Asker, with our baby,' Lizzie answered with equal certainty. 'I certainly don't want me baby killed.'

'We ain't gonna let that happen, me dear.' Ruby paused to consider the situation. 'Yer both seem to know what yer want an' I'll do me best to help yer bring it about. But first yer gotta make peace with yer folks.'

'I don't wanna go back there ever again, Mrs. Asker,' Lizzie pleaded desperately.

'Yer must, Lizzie. They can get the police to take yer back. They could take yer to jail, or to an orphanage. Yer gotta talk to them.'

'I'll come with you, Lizzie,' Freddie offered.

'No! No! That won't do. They'd throw yer out,' Lizzie replied almost frantically and started crying.

Ruby put an arm around the girl to comfort her.

'Come now, don't get yerself all upset. Tell yer what, yer can stay here tonight an' tomorrow morning we'll all go round an' see them together. But whatever yer do, yer should try to get their blessing first. If all else fails yer can stay here until yer can get a nice little place o' yer own.'

Acceptance of Freddie and their daughter's love for him came slowly for Jack and Maude Bushe but Freddie wasted no time in renting a little old house on Cribb's Lane a few yards from the Whaler's Arms. The house was in a seriously dilapidated condition with a leaking roof, broken windows and piles of rotting garbage in the tiny back yard. Like many of the houses nearby, it had no plumbing or drainage but the landlord promised to remedy the defects and Freddie handed over the first two weeks rent. The landlord soon forgot his promises.

PART TWO

Chapter 68

The Rocks, 1880

Freddie and Lizzie Asker and their large family struggled to survive in the face of poverty, disease and the economic slump of the post gold rush period. But meanwhile the Glengyles of Fort Street were amassing a fortune and reaping the rewards of their connections with the upper strata of Australian society.

Lieutenant Hamish Kirkton Glengyle and Lieutenant Ernest Handley arrived in the colony with the First Fleet. Both were born into families of vast wealth and it was natural that they shared an equal loathing of habitual wasters like Nathaniel Asker and his descendants. Their military service together was the start of a lifelong association for the two gentlemen and their families. Hamish and Mary Glengyle's eldest son, Walter, married Harriet, eldest daughter of Ernest and Eliza Handley. Their only child was Walter Bannock Kirkton Glengyle.

Walter Glengyle senior founded the Sydney Daily Times and when he died in 1858 Walter junior inherited the newspaper and the rest of the estate. By exercising rigid political control of the editorial staff the younger Glengyle was able to foster an abundance of friends in the halls of power aided by well targeted political donations. Few people were surprised when Mr & Mrs. Glengyle became Sir Walter and Lady Glengyle. It was expected by many that the real future for Sir Walter would be in the upper levels of the colonial Government and perhaps in the office of the Premier. After all, Sir Walter was seen by most as, not just a capable businessman, but also as a refined gentleman with a social conscience who supported numerous charitable causes.

But there was a darker side to Sir Walter and his ancestors. The Glengyle and Handley men had fathered many children outside their marriages. The Handley's and Glengyle's were capable of using their power and influence to achieve their ends and could also use sheer brutality when all else failed. Sir Walter was no different and in addition to two legitimate children he was also rumored to have fathered at least another four offspring to four different mothers. He had an uncontrollable appetite for beautiful females and the younger they were the better. People close to him spoke only in whispers lest they suffer some severe retribution for their indiscretion.

Returning one evening in his private carriage from his office at the Sydney Daily Times, the publisher instructed his driver to wait outside the Whaler's Arms. He walked along the narrow alleyway known as Cribb's Lane and turned into Caraher's Lane where he stopped at the door of Anne McKean's brothel.

'Come in,' Anne said quickly, as she looked furtively along the lane. 'Sir Walter, ain't it?' she added after studying him quickly a second time.

'Yes. Yes,' he replied impatiently as he tried to keep his voice down while moving forward with some urgency. 'But don't call me that when folks are listening. It wouldn't do. Just call me Walt if you must use a name.'

'Okay, Walt. I've only got one girl working right now and she's busy but if I'm to yer liking yer could 'ave me for the same price.' She put on her most alluring smile for him. 'I'm only twenty-five,' she lied with a wink.

'I'll come back when you have a young'n available then,' Glengyle said as he retreated towards the door.

'Oh! Okay then, Walt,' she said with a trace of disappointment. 'How about coming back in an hour then?'

As he stepped out into the narrow lane again his roving eye fell on the slim golden-haired lass about to enter the house opposite.

'Oh, my! Isn't she a beauty?' he whispered softly.

'I'll bet you'd like to 'ave it orf with her, wouldn't yer, Walt?'

'Oh yes! I'd even pay a little extra if you could arrange it, missus.'

Anne McKean was silent for a moment while she hurriedly considered a plan.

'Okay, Walt. Be back 'ere in an hour an' I'll see what I can do.'

An hour later Glengyle knocked on the door again and was ushered into the small ageing parlor.

'The girl yer saw be waiting for yer at another house where she has a friend. She's not one of us and she's as pure an' innocent as a freshly fallen snowflake. She's expectin' to be offered a job at yer newspaper an' it's up to you 'ow yer deal with that. That'll be five quid, if yer don't mind, lovey.'

'What number is she at, missus?'

'Five quid first, Walt, lovey.'

'You drive a hard bargain, missus,' Glengyle said as he delved into his coat pocket and produced five gold sovereigns.

'Okay, Walt, she's at number twelve. Remember, there ain't no guarantees an' 'she ain't one of us' ere. It's up to you, mate.'

Anne McKean quickly scooped up the coins and closed the door.

Chapter 69

Polly Asker

Ellen Wilkinson and Polly Asker waited excitedly for the important businessman who was expected to call at the house with an offer of employment.

'Who does yer suppose it is?' Polly asked her friend.

'Lord knows, Polly. Strange, ain't it? Everywhere folks be lookin' for work and here we is with jobs an' someone wantin' to give us a better one.'

'I don't understand it, Ellen. Mind you anything would be better than that horrible clothing factory with its leaky roof an' everything.'

'Don't forget the bad lighting and ventilation and the long hours.'

'I ain't forgettin' that or the pressure to quicken the output.'

'An' the pay ain't nothin' to write home about.'

There was a knock on the door and both girls sprang to their feet.

The sight of the immaculately dressed gentleman standing in the doorway left them speechless. Glengyle smiled warmly and strode confidently into the parlor.

'Good evening, my good ladies. I'm Sir Walter Glengyle, publisher of the Sydney Daily Times.'

'Please sit down, Sir.' Ellen spoke nervously and tried to curtsy the way a lady should in the circumstances.

'Thank you, miss. What is your name?'

'Ellen Wilkinson, sir.'

Glengyle smiled again and turned to the other girl.

'What is your name, lass?'

'Polly Asker, sir.'

'That's nice. Polly was my mother's name,' he lied. 'She was very beautiful too.'

Polly flushed with embarrassment as he studied her in silence for a long time.

'Thank you, sir... But...' she stammered awkwardly.

'You don't need to call me sir, my dear. Walt will be fine for you. You can relax, my dear.'

'But, sir... It wouldn't...'

'Not at all, Polly. I insist that you call me Walt.'

'Alright, Walt,' she said reluctantly.

He seemed such a nice gentleman and she didn't want to offend him. She wondered why he should come to Caraher's Lane looking for workers. A bit odd, yes, but such a nice man and in an older way quite handsome too. The two girls looked quickly at each other and read each other's thoughts.

'Excuse me askin', sir, but ain't it a bit unusual to be having an interview here like?' Ellen asked a little nervously.

'Oh, I'm pleased you raised that question, Miss Ellen. We certainly don't want any misunderstandings, do we?' He hesitated for a moment. 'I'm sorry ladies. You see I was under the impression that it was you who wanted to be interviewed here and I rather reluctantly agreed to it. Please forgive me for the misunderstanding. I shall have to speak with my editor about this because he is the one who arranged everything.'

Glengyle skillfully moved the conversation to safer ground and shifted his eyes back to Polly.

'I should like to interview you for a position with my newspaper but I think it is proper, as your friend has so rightly pointed out, that the interview should really be at the newspaper office. I'd like you to accompany me there now so that you can see how the newspaper is produced and everything about your position can be explained to you fully. Is it convenient to come with me now, my dear?'

Without waiting for an answer he rose confidently to his feet and started towards the door. As Polly rose he put an arm gently round her small shoulder and steered her to the door leaving Ellen sitting open-mouthed and speechless.

Out in Caraher's Lane several people saw the distinguished-looking gentlemen with the young local girl.

Polly was one of Freddie and Lizzie Asker's ten surviving children; two having died of scarlet fever. She was born in the lane, grew up in the lane and spoke and dressed the way the lane folk did. Sir Walter Glengyle stood head and shoulders above her slight frame and looked immaculate with his fine Trilby hat and fashionable waist coat complete with gold chain and pocket watch. As the daylight started to fade into evening Polly was recognized by a number of the lane's younger residents.

'Gidday, Polly. Where's yer goin'?'

'To the newspaper fer a job,' she said proudly as they rounded the corner into Cribb's Lane.

She could feel what seemed to be the whole neighborhood watching her as they hurried along. If she could get any sort of job with the newspaper it could lead to other things. Perhaps, with a bit more schooling, she could even be a journalist. That would be wonderful.

'Who's that with young Polly Asker?' a matronly voice asked in a hushed tone.

'That's Sir what'isname from the Daily Times,' another woman replied confidentially.

'Aye. He be a grand lookin' man, he be.'

'A la-di-da shyster, if yer asks me.'

'Wonder what business young Polly 'as with 'im?'

Chapter 70

Sir Walter Glengyle

At last they reached Glengyle's private carriage parked near the Whaler's Arms. He took her arm and helped her up to a seat and the girl from the slum began to think she was a princess. Polly had never ridden in a carriage before. It felt grand sitting high above the dirt and grime of the street, with folks looking up as she rode along with a prince-charming at her side and the smart liveryman in front. As the two fine thoroughbreds trotted in unison ahead of the liveryman it was a dream come true. What would her ma and pa think of her now? And what about her older brothers, what would they think of their little Polly riding in this beautiful carriage with this fine gentleman? She thought about the younger ones, Georgie, David, Jane, Isobel and five-year-old Andy.

Polly was sure that she would earn more money from the newspaper than she could ever hope for at the factory. She would soon be in a position to make a larger contribution to the family upkeep. There would be better times ahead for the Askers. The Asker name had always carried a curse. In moments of frustration, Granny Ruby referred to the family as 'Nathaniel's fatal bloodline.'

Granny Ruby was a battler. She knew the family history so well she could entertain her grandchildren for hours at a time with stories of old Nathaniel and Isobel, and her own grandparents. She could talk about the First Fleet and the old folks' attempts to make a better life in the new land.

Charlie, Polly's oldest brother, had never been much help and seemed to spend more time locked up than in gainful employment. Polly had had a namesake, Polly One, but she died and Polly Two, herself, was named after her. The same thing happened when Harry died. The next born male became Harry Two. Polly often wondered about the two that died, especially about Polly One. Then there was Archie who had gone to sea and hadn't been seen or heard from in five years. She often wondered where he was and if she would recognize him after such a long time. Harry Two went from job to job and there were always long gaps between him leaving one job and finding another. He'd tried just about everything and seemed unable to succeed at anything. Harry had little to contribute to the family upkeep. Sidney was the one that would make his mark on the world. At seventeen he was still at school and paying his own way with a variety of jobs and buying and selling anything that had a shilling in it.

As the next in line, Polly felt that, at fifteen, she must carry some responsibility on behalf of the five younger siblings. She knew that it was time the Askers were blessed with some good fortune but she wasn't prepared to sit back and just wait for it to happen. Suddenly they were outside the magnificent building, which housed the Sydney Daily Times, and Polly had to make an effort to bring herself back to reality.

Glengyle gestured proudly towards the building.

'Well here it is, young lady. Within those walls the finest newspaper in the world is published every day except Sunday. Now a word of advice from old Walt, my dear. Play your cards right, as they say and you could have an important role in this great institution. Allow me, my dear.'

Like a perfect gentleman he reached for her hand to help her down from the carriage but her eyes were focused only on the grandeur of the building as she scrambled clumsily to the ground like the working class teenager that she was. Polly was speechless as Glengyle led her through the magnificent entrance with its high archway, heavy mahogany double doors and beautifully polished marble floor. All was quiet at the newspaper building until he opened the door to the printing room and then a scene of bedlam opened before their eyes. The printers were racing to have the newspaper published and ready for distribution by first light. They paused alongside a girl about Polly's age who was collating and folding the broadsheets of the Sydney Daily Times. They moved on to a large guillotine and then the massive printing presses. They passed through another door and into the newsroom, now closed for the night, and then back to the administration office. He steered her towards a beautiful mahogany door and Polly read the gold-lettered sign above: - Sir Walter Glengyle – Publisher

Chapter 71

The Newspaper

Glengyle slipped a key into the lock and the big door swung open to reveal a grand office with a marble floor and a huge walnut desk. A gaslight burned to one side opposite a huge royal blue curtain, which had been drawn across the window. On the wall behind the desk portraits of Walter Glengyle senior, Queen Victoria and the New South Wales Premier, Sir Henry Parkes, hung in elegant frames. Polly was dumbfounded.

'This is my office, Polly,' he said proudly. 'This is the heart of the Glengyle empire.'

He drew a chair up to the desk and motioned for her to sit down.

'The young lady that was folding the pages is leaving, Polly. This is her last night and I'd like to offer you that position starting tomorrow night. Would you like to take it?'

'Oh, yes, sir,' she replied eagerly.

'Walt, remember?'

'I mean Walt. Yes. I want to start as soon as it's possible.'

'Excellent, my dear, then it's all settled and you shall start tomorrow night.'

'Thanks, Walt. I promise I'll do me best.'

Glengyle stood up and moved around the desk to where Polly was sitting and reached for her hand.

'Congratulations, Polly, and welcome to the Sydney Daily Times.'

Gently he pulled her to her feet and put an arm around her slender waist. The smile on his large face was spellbinding.

'Now I propose a small celebration, Polly.'

He opened another large door and led her into the adjoining room, which was complete with a kitchen, bar, large china cabinet, chairs, a huge table and a couch. It was a larger room than the office but had the same décor and the walls were adorned with portraits and landscape paintings also mounted in magnificent frames. Polly was wide-eyed and speechless. She had never imagined the existence of such luxurious furniture and décor. Glengyle opened a cabinet to reveal an assortment of bottles and decanters.

'Now you just make yourself comfortable there.'

He indicated towards the couch.

'Can I offer you a nip of brandy, my dear?'

'Oh, no. I ain't never drunk nothin' like that before. Except for me pa we never have nothin' but tea.'

'I understand perfectly, my dear. But this is a special occasion, Polly, and it's always nice to celebrate special occasions this way. I'll pour a very small one for you and if you don't like it you don't have to drink it.'

'Okay. A very small one, Walt.'

'That's better, Polly.'

He poured two nips and brought them over to the couch.

'Here's to your future career with the Sydney Daily Times, my dear. Just take a small sip to get the taste,' he said as he raised his glass.

Polly took a small sip and immediately gasped for breath.

'Oh, Jesus, Walt! It's strong. Don't think I want no more o' that.'

'Ah, but you'll soon get the taste for it. Try another small sip. It's the smoothest drink in the world, my dear.'

She took another sip and let the brandy slide slowly passed her taste buds.

'I think I see what yer mean. It was just a bit of a shock with the first mouthful.'

He placed an arm around her shoulders.

'Welcome to the Sydney Daily Times, Polly. Now remember if you play your cards right you'll have a great future here. You must remember only to call me Walt when we are alone. It wouldn't do to have others hearing that. You understand, don't you, Polly?'

'Yes, of course, Walt.'

'Excellent, my dear,' he said as he pulled her closer. 'You really are a very beautiful woman, Polly.'

'Yer really think so?'

Her face suddenly reddened in embarrassment.

'Oh, indeed. You are the most beautiful woman that old Walt has ever set eyes upon.' As he spoke he turned to face her and took both her hands in his.

'No one never said nothin' like that to me before.'

'It's true, Polly. You're absolutely beautiful and my blood runs hot for you.'

Before she had a chance to reply he adroitly changed tack.

'But enough of that, my dear. I want you to report to the printing manager, Mr O'Flynn, at five o'clock on the morrow for the start of your new career. As soon as you've finished your brandy I'll ask my driver to take you home in my carriage.'

'Oh, thank you, Walt. You're such a nice gentleman.'

She took two more quick sips to finish the brandy and went to stand up. She felt a little light-headed but he helped her to her feet like the true gentleman that he could be – when it suited him. It was the happiest day of her life.

'Good luck, Polly, my dear. And remember, play your cards right for old Walt and he'll stand by you all the way.'

'Thank you, Walt, sir... I mean Walt.'

Before he opened the door to the street he put both arms around her waist and pulled her close. He felt her stiffen slightly as he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Then with another smile and a wink he sent her on her way.

Chapter 72

The Princess

As the horses trotted briskly along George Street towards the Rocks both liveryman and passenger were occupied with their own thoughts. Polly felt important as she sat in her own personal carriage behind the smartly uniformed liveryman and she couldn't wait to tell her parents about the new career that she was about to embark on. It was so exciting. But what did he mean about his blood running hot for her? Did it mean what she thought it might mean? Really! She mustn't tell them too much about the interview with Walt. She hoped that it was just his way of speaking that he had used and that she had no cause for concern. After all he wasn't like Ben Bates who was more her own age and for whom she had strong feelings, the kind of feelings she knew she could never have for Walt. Although Walt was a very handsome, generous and courteous gentleman it just wasn't the same thing, was it? She remembered her commitment to Ben. They had almost done it several times going almost to the point of no return before reluctantly holding back. They agreed that when they finally did do it, it would be the first time for both of them and that they would never do it with anyone else, ever. If Walt did have ideas about doing it with her, she knew that he would understand when she explained to him about Ben.

Polly was so excited about the prospect of her new employment that she arrived to report to the printing manager at least thirty minutes early only to find that O'Flynn had not yet arrived. She stood awkwardly by the printing works entrance. Several other workers arrived, including some women, but none spoke to her.

Eventually O'Flynn arrived and spent several minutes showing her how to do her job. The other women still ignored her even though they talked among themselves. Several hours later O'Flynn approached from the management office.

'Sir Walter has sent for you, Miss Polly. Come. I'll show you the way.'

The eyes of the other workers followed her in silence until she passed close to one of the women and she was spoken to for the first time by one of her co-workers.

'Keep yer finger on yer ha'penny, lovey,' she said quietly.

Polly had heard that saying before but she was unsure what it meant and walked by without replying.

'On with your work, Martha,' O'Flynn said harshly.

After O'Flynn ushered her into the publisher's office he quietly closed the door and left.

'How nice to see you again, Polly, my dear. Please be seated. Would you like some tea?' Glengyle asked warmly.

'Thank you, sir,' she said nervously.

'There, now you've done it again. Walt, remember?'

'Sorry, Walt,' she said with a sheepish grin.

'How are you managing the work, Polly?' he asked as he poured her tea from a large silver teapot.

'Oh, yes. It's heavy but I'm managing all right and Mr O'Flynn has been kind an' shown me what to do.'

'Mr O'Flynn is one of my finest employees. Sadly I can't say the same for some of the women out there. Take care with them Polly. They like to gossip and put malicious rumors abroad.'

She stared at him for a moment unsure of how to respond to his warning. Suddenly he took up the conversation again and saved her from her lack of confidence. He chuckled with amusement.

'How did you feel going home in the carriage last night, my dear?'

'It was wonderful. I felt like a princess,' she said, laughing and starting to relax.

'Naturally, as a worker you can't expect to be taken home by carriage all the time. It just wouldn't do, would it?'

'No. Course not.'

'However, when you've finished your work tomorrow morning I'll make just one more exception. You can go home in the carriage again only because it'll be the end of your first night and no doubt you'll be tired by then, my dear. Would you like to do that, Polly?'

'Oh, yes. Its wonderful riding up in the carriage. I think some day when I've worked for the Sydney Daily Times for a long time, I'd like to have my own carriage and horses just like that.'

'Indeed you will, my dear. Remember, Polly, if you play your cards right with Walt you can have just about anything you may wish for.'

He winked, moved quickly around the huge desk and pulled Polly to her feet. He placed an arm around her shoulder just as he had done before. Then, to Polly's complete surprise, she felt his other hand cupping her soft breast for an instant before he turned her in towards him and felt his hand exploring the delicate curves of her buttocks. She tried to turn away but he held her firmly. She could feel his hardness pressing against her pubis and his heavier breathing told her that his blood was indeed running hot for her. There was no mistaking it now. She was also in no doubt about what he meant when he said that she must play her cards right. She needed time to think. What should she do? She had promised herself to Ben. Suddenly his mood changed again and he released her.

'Well, my dear, enough of this. Back to work now, Polly.'

He guided her towards the door.

'Not a word to anyone, remember.'

He placed a single finger against his lips to indicate caution and silence.

Without answering she raced towards the factory, flushed with embarrassment at the way he had tricked her. Back at her work place she found it difficult to concentrate. She decided that she would surrender to Ben at the very first opportunity, lest she be tempted to give herself to the wrong man in a moment of weakness, because in Walt's own words, "that wouldn't do, would it?"

It was a long night for Polly as she tried to concentrate on her work but her mind continually went back to the episode in the publisher's office. There was no doubt about what his game was. He was what folks called a womanizer and she knew that their relationship must be strictly along the lines of employee and employer. In the morning she would gracefully decline the ride on the carriage and explain to him about her commitment to Ben Bates. She was sure that he would understand. After all he was a gentleman, wasn't he?

When O'Flynn came in the morning to say that the carriage was waiting for her, Polly had no idea of the time. She had never stayed awake all night before and she was tired. Outside the newspaper building the first signs of a new day were just appearing in the sky over Sydney Heads. A chill breeze drifted through the city and overhead the last stars were fading into the dawn of another warm, cloudless day. The carriage awaited her with none other than a beaming Sir Walter himself holding the reins. She had rehearsed many times during the night what she would say to him when she next saw him, but she started to falter.

'Sir Walter, we must...' she began.

'Walt, remember.'

Quickly, he stepped down and took her hand.

'Allow me to help you onto the carriage, my dear, and while I'm driving you home you can tell me what it is that's on your mind. Take a hold here and up you go.'

His hand found her buttocks again and she was pushed aloft in spite of her protests.

'We must talk, Walt, sir...'

'Giddup!'

A sharp command and a flick of the reins ensured that the horses were on their way at a brisk trot. They moved majestically through the narrow streets as Polly stared straight ahead and tried to bring herself to speak, but words failed her. Something was drastically wrong. She was scared. Sir Walter Glengyle kept one hand on the reins and the other firmly around her slender waist. He tried to make light of the situation but Polly detected that his mood had changed. He breathed heavily and his eyes had a fierce look about them. He whipped the horses to a faster pace. When they got to the Whaler's Arms he urged them onward again right passed where they should have turned into Cribb's Lane.

'Good morning, Sir Walter,' a local man, Vernon MacIntosh, called to him as they sped by.

'Good morning, Mr MacIntosh. And a fine day it's going to be too,' he replied trying to sound calm and casual for the benefit of MacIntosh.

'Good morning, Miss Polly.' MacIntosh called again as they disappeared around another corner with Polly staring straight ahead.

She was scared and embarrassed, and she had no idea where she was being taken. She thought about jumping from the carriage but realized that they were going too fast and that she was a long way from the ground. She lost track of where they were heading. They came to the end of a small lane and an open area with a number of large trees and some derelict buildings.

Chapter 73

Something Wrong

Freddie Asker rose as usual at six o'clock and got ready for another long day of hot and heavy work at Katterns's forge. He held a faint hope that some day he would find something better. Since his wages had been cut again he no longer had his heart in the work. His weight had decreased in the passed few months too and he had developed a hacking cough. Often these days he was too sick to put in a full day's work. He wished he could give up his job, but it was the only means he had for feeding and clothing his large family.

Sometimes he wished he could return to his former life as a gambler. He thought about his old friend Joker Hammond and the stunts they had pulled and the money they had made – and sometimes lost. Those were the days. But then he checked himself with the knowledge that he was twenty-five years older and a return to gambling was really out of the question. A younger generation of gambling men would catch him out within minutes and he'd be done for.

As he walked along Caraher's Lane, Freddie decided to stop dreaming about the past and what it might have been, and concentrate on the reality of the present and the future. He started thinking again about his family. One day most of them would be as successful as Maggie and Wilf who had successful teaching careers in England and America. Then there was Polly, lovely little Polly, who was a real toiler and regularly turned her entire wage, pittance that it was, over to Lizzie. Polly seemed to want nothing for herself and now it seemed she had a wonderful new job at the Sydney Daily Times. He knew it was wrong to have favorites in the family but Polly was definitely one of his favorites. He wondered if he would meet her walking home from her new job.

After Lizzie had seen Freddie off to his work she quickly wakened the rest of the family and in a short time they had all left the overcrowded house. Harry had gone to his work and the others to school. Lizzie then busied herself washing the breakfast dishes and making the beds. Then she got down on her knees and scrubbed the roughly sawn floorboards. Wouldn't it be wonderful if they could afford a house that was a little bigger and more modern? At least they had floorboards of a sort, which was more than some folks had in the Rocks area. They had a big family but she wouldn't want to be without a single one of her ten surviving children. She wished desperately that Charlie, the oldest one, could bring some order to his life when he was next released from prison. It was sad the way he was wasting his life. She hadn't seen Archie in five years but was certain that he would have grown into a fine young man. She longed to see him and believed that she would know by instinct if anything dreadful had befallen him, or any of her other precious babies. With the floor scrubbing finished she sat back on her heels and rested for a moment.

Outside in the lane she could hear the usual noises of people, horses and carts and dogs, but inside the house something was wrong. Charlie? No. Archie? No. Freddie? Nothing ever happened to Freddie these days. He was as steady as a rock even if he was starting to show his age a bit and his cough was getting worse... Polly? Where's Polly? She should have been home ages ago!

Chapter 74

The Editor

Leaving her bucket and cleaning rags where they were, Lizzie hurried into the lane fully expecting to see her own mirror-image teenage daughter coming happily along the lane without a care in the world. Where could she be? There had to be a logical explanation. Nevertheless she closed the door and started walking along the lane in the direction she expected Polly to come from. She rounded the corner into Gloucester Street and there was still no sign of her. Lizzie was in near panic when she arrived at the Sydney Daily Times in George Street. She had never been inside a newspaper building before, or any edifice so imposing and intimidating, but she allowed herself no time to falter. The first person she saw was a young reporter tapping away on a newly patented Remington writing machine.

'I've come for Polly Asker,' she called to the man.

For a moment the young man continued tapping on the machine with two fingers and Lizzie wondered if he had heard her. Then a bell sounded on the machine and he pulled a large handle to reset the machine for another line. He looked up at Lizzie.

'Sorry, missus. I was concentrating on this new fangled apparatus. Can I help you?'

'Yes. I'm looking for Polly Asker.'

'Sorry, missus. I don't know anyone called Polly Asker. Oh, wait a moment. Is she the new girl?'

'She started last night. I'm her mother and I wanted to walk home with her. Can you tell me what time she'll be finished?'

The reporter looked mystified.

'They all left hours ago, Mrs. Asker.'

The young man left his machine and escorted her to the printing room door.

'Look. As you can see, missus, they've all gone home for the day. They were leaving just as I started. I heard there was a new girl but I didn't see her leaving with the others.'

'Who's in charge here?'

'Mr Loveday, the editor.'

'I want to see him please,' she demanded.

'He has someone with him. Would you mind waiting? I'm sure he won't be long.'

'Yes. I'll wait.'

Twenty minutes later the editor's door was still closed and Lizzie decided she could wait no longer. With her head held high and her jaw set in an expression of determination, she turned the door handle and marched into the office.

'Mr Loveday, I must speak with you urgently. It's terribly important.'

The two men in the office were both dressed in fashionable suits and she was not sure which one was Loveday. It was obvious from her appearance that, in a newspaper office, she was like a fish out of water. There was a stunned silence as the two men stared at her. Finally one of them spoke.

'We can continue this later, Loveday. You can attend to the lady first.'

As he left the office he cast a withering glare at the impertinent intruder. Some women just never learn their place, he thought to himself.

'What do you mean by barging in here like this?' Loveday exploded.

'I'm sorry, sir. It's really urgent,' Lizzie said, determined to stand her ground.

'Well? Get on with it, missus.'

'I'm Mrs. Asker. It's my daughter, Polly. She came to work here last night and she hasn't been home yet. She's only fifteen and I'm worried something has happened to her. Please can you help me find her?'

Chapter 75

Constable Norman

Loveday stared for a moment as though in disbelief. She was distraught and obviously from one of the poorer districts where it was normal for fifteen-year-olds to come and go as they pleased. The parents in those neighborhoods rarely had any control over their mostly unwanted offspring. They didn't seem to care. Little wonder there was so much crime and so many illegitimate babies being born. They only seemed to care when it was too late.

'What do you want me to do about it, Mrs. Asker?' he asked coldly.

'Please help me find out what's happened to me daughter. It just ain't like her.'

'How?' he demanded.

Lizzie stood open-mouthed and shocked at the arrogance of this apparently self-proclaimed gentleman with his fine clothes and upper class manner. Before she could respond a young man appeared in the doorway wanting to speak to Loveday also.

He glared at Lizzie for another moment before turning to the young man.

'Yes, Mannock, what is it?' he asked in a milder tone.

'Sir Walter will not be in the office today, sir. Lady Glengyle asked me to tell you that he is unwell.'

'Did he remember that he has an appointment today with Sir Henry?'

'Yes. And she has given me a message to take to Sir Henry. Will that be all, sir?'

'Yes, Mannock. That will be all thank you.'

As Lizzie listened to the exchange between Loveday and Mannock and the tone in which the conversation was conducted she realized that she could expect little help from him. Besides, he now had the welfare of his employer to think about. She had already slipped out the door before Loveday was ready to talk to her again.

Back on George Street, Lizzie retraced her steps to Gloucester Street and Caraher's Lane. The house was still empty and there was no sign that Polly had been home during her brief absence. Despairingly, she slumped into a chair and with her head in her hands she fought to hold back the tears. Something was terribly wrong. What could she do next? Whoever would harm a lovely innocent girl like Polly? Or had she suffered an accident, or been taken ill? Should she go to the police or should she go to the forge and tell Freddie? She didn't want to bother him at his work but this was important. No, she would go to the police first. They were closer.

On the way she spoke to several people living in the neighborhood but none had seen Polly. She saw Mr MacIntosh sitting on his veranda with a copy of the Sydney Daily Times.

'Good morning, Mr MacIntosh.'

'Good morning, missus.'

'Have you seen our young Polly this morning? She hasn't been home.'

'Perhaps she has eloped,' he said with a flicker of a smile.

'Polly would never do that.'

'That's what they all say, missus.'

'Well thanks, Mr MacIntosh.'

'Can't ever be sure, missus. You have to be firm with the young'ns these days.'

At the police station Lizzie found Senior Constable Norman sitting at a desk laboriously writing a report. He made it obvious that he expected her to wait until the task was completed. She was exhausted from all the walking and the worry of the situation and she looked around for a chair. There was none to be had on her side of the counter.

'Hello, constable. I'd like to see someone soon? It's very important. Me child is missing,' she pleaded.

'Patience, missus. I can only do one thing at a time,' he retorted without looking up from the report.

'Please. I fear something dreadful has happened to her.'

'Don't worry, missus, the child will no doubt turn up again. They always do. Now I'll be with you just as soon as I've finished this report about a stolen horse. Yer see when horses get stolen they stay stolen, missus. But children always turn up. Who would want children anyway?'

The constable continued writing his report in silence. When he had finished he made himself a cup of tea from a kettle that had been simmering quietly on a coal range. Then he looked around the single room station to see if there were any other tasks that he may have overlooked. Finally he was ready to deal with Lizzie who was trying hard not to let her anger show.

'What name is it, missus?'

'Asker, sir.'

Suddenly the constable took a new interest in her.

'Asker from Caraher's Lane? Frederick Asker?'

'It's about 'is daughter, Polly. She's been missing since last night, or this morning.'

'We know all about Freddie as yer call 'im. A right jailbird, he's been. It was my pa who arrested him when he tried to make off with the horse and cart-load of meat. And you've got yourself married to 'im, have yer?'

Lizzie could take no more.

'I suppose yer pa told yer he was a hero, did 'e, arrestin' an eight-year-old for stealin'? I suppose 'e got decorated for it, did 'e?'

'Watch your tongue, missus!'

'Mind yer own tongue! If yer pa had taken 'is head outta 'is arse 'e might o' seen the real world for a change. An' 'e might o' taught 'is son some manners instead o' teachin' yer how to piss on the poor all the time.'

The constable's face reddened as he drew himself up to his full height and glared at the plucky little woman in front of him.

'How dare you speak to me like that, woman. I should wash your mouth out for you.'

'Yer might be twice me size, constable, but if yer lay a hand on me I swear I'll wipe the bloody floor with yer,' she yelled and then burst into tears. 'Please help me find me daughter. Please?'

'There's nothing I can do, Mrs. Asker, until she's been missing at least two days. Come back tomorrow and I'll see what I can do then. But I'll warn you to control your tantrums or I'll lock you up and send you up to the court. The judge takes a pretty dim view of folks who insult police officers. So keep control of your mouth, missus.'

'Watch your own bloody mouth!' Lizzie shouted defiantly as she strode out the door.

But the officer had not finished.

'One time folks like you would have been given fifty lashes for that kind of insolence. Pity it had to stop.'

Still reluctant to call at the forge, she went home again just in case the constable had been right and Polly had arrived home. The sun had passed the zenith when she got back to Caraher's Lane and there was no sign of Polly. She spoke to some more neighbors but none had seen her. When the children arrived home from school she sent young George to ask Freddie to come home as soon as possible.

When Freddie arrived he had Harold Katterns with him ready to mount a search. They searched for several hours with friends and neighbors from the Rocks and one by one they returned to Caraher's Lane with nothing to report. Polly Asker had vanished without trace.

Chapter 76

Patrick O'Flynn

'I'm goin' to the Times to talk to the printers,' Freddie announced hopefully. 'They'll know something. She can't just vanish.'

'I'll be along with yer, mate,' Katterns volunteered.

When they arrived at the newspaper building a poker-faced Patrick O'Flynn met them. He listened quietly while Freddie explained that Polly had not been seen for more than twenty-four hours, which was entirely out of character for her. The newspaper was the last known place she had gone to and he wanted to speak with the printery workers in the hope that one of them may be able to offer some information.

'I don't believe they will be able to help at all,' O'Flynn said firmly.

'We'd like to talk to them anyway,' Freddie urged.

'I'm afraid not, Asker. Company policy forbids it.'

'Come on, mate. Surely you can look the other way or something.'

'Absolutely not! If you're so worried why don't you report the matter to the police? That's what they're for.'

'They're worse than useless,' Harold Katterns interjected. 'Mrs. Asker has already been to them.'

Freddie Asker glared angrily at the printing manager.

'Well yer can piss on yer company policy and the cops too. We're goin' in whether yer like it or not, mate.'

The two men moved forward as one and O'Flynn reluctantly stepped aside.

They spoke to several workers while O'Flynn hovered in the background, but none was able or willing, to offer any information until they came to a woman who was folding the papers. With her face turned partly away from O'Flynn she spoke in a low tone.

'If it be Polly yer be lookin' for, ask Glengyle. She left wid the Sir, while the rest of us were still slavin'. Ask O'Flynn. He knows...' She suddenly stopped and resumed her work as O'Flynn moved closer.

'Be silent, Martha. You've been warned about talking on the job,' O'Flynn barked.

'I never said nothin', Mr O'Flynn. Honest, sir.'

'Don't argue, Martha. I saw your lips moving.'

''Twas only movin' them 'cause I be thirsty, sir.'

'Silence, woman!'

Asker and Katterns stared at each other for a moment. Had Sir Walter Glengyle really left with Polly that morning? They spoke to several other workers while O'Flynn continued to shadow them. Only one more had anything new to offer.

'Find Rose Petchell. Ask 'er why she up an' left in a hurry,' a woman whispered in a tone that was barely audible above the noise of the presses.

'Where's she live?' Freddie asked quickly.

'Ten Harrington Street,' the woman replied without looking up from her work.

O'Flynn pounced again.

'Ester Warbrick, you know nothing. Do you hear?'

'Yes, sir.'

Suddenly O'Flynn realized that Asker and Katterns had rounded on him with one on each side. Katterns was broad and muscular and stood head and shoulders above O'Flynn and Asker was a wiry man with a hardened appearance.

'Listen, mate,' Katterns grabbed one of his arms in a vice-like grip. 'If yer don't shut yer mouth an' let us get on with speakin' to these people, I'm gonna take yer down to me forge an' shove some red-hot steel up yer arse.'

'You can't do this!' O'Flynn ordered with his voice reaching a shrill pitch.

'Just try stopping us!' Freddie challenged as he adopted his old prize-fighter stance. 'Me mate wants to put some red-hot steel up yer arse, but first he'll 'ave to pull yer broken head outta that wall.'

'Let me go!' O'Flynn pleaded.

'Yer knows more than yer be lettin' on.'

Katterns tightened his grip on the man's arm.

'Young Polly came to work 'ere last night an' she ain't been seen since. Yer gonna tell us all yer knows or are we gonna knock the shit outta yer?'

'Who's yer protectin'?' Freddie demanded.

'No one, I swear,' O'Flynn protested in wide-eyed fear.

'Is yer protectin' Sir Glengyle? If yer is, we gonna get 'im an' then we'll be back fer you too. The truth.'

'I'm not protecting anyone. Let me go!'

'Yer hires an' fires the worker around 'ere, don't yer?' Freddie asked as he placed a fist close to O'Flynn's terrified face.

'Yes, of course. I'm the printing manager. That's my job.'

'Why did Rose Petchell leave?'

O'Flynn blinked in disbelief.

Katterns tightened his grip.

'I don't know,' he lied unconvincingly.

The whole factory stopped to watch the drama. Their autocratic taskmaster had met his match and Freddie Asker was running out of patience.

'Let 'im go, mate,' he ordered. 'I won't hit a man while he's held by someone else. Let 'im go so's I can 'ave a fair crack at 'im.'

Katterns stepped back as Asker skipped nimbly forward, fists flying. A heavy volley of blows landed in rapid succession and he skipped lightly out of reach again. A great cheer rose from the workers and O'Flynn sank to his knees while Asker gasped for breath and started a coughing fit. He wasn't the fighter he had once been.

'That's just a taste of what yer gonna get if yer don't come clean,' Katterns warned. 'So just co-operate, mate, an' life's gonna be a lot easier for yer.'

'Yes! All right, anything. Just don't hurt me.'

'Where's Polly?' Freddie demanded.

'I don't know, Mr Asker.'

O'Flynn never saw the blow that felled him the second time.

'Get up!'

'She left in a carriage this morning at sunrise,' he murmured weakly.

'Whose carriage? Where to? Who was she with?' Freddie fired his questions with mounting urgency.

O'Flynn looked at the ground, a beaten man. He took a deep breath and sighed resignedly.

'Sir Walter. I don't know where they went,' he whimpered. 'I'm finished now. You've ruined me. I've already told you too much. Sir Walter is a great businessman but there's another side to him that few people know about. He's the most devilish fiend with young women. He can't control himself. When he wants them he has to have them and they'll be sorry if they resist.'

O'Flynn sat on the floor again and looked up at Freddie with tears in his eyes.

'Mr Asker, I really hope that Polly is safe. She is a really nice young lady.'

For the first time Freddie felt some compassion for the printing manager.

'Please. Will you help us find her?' he begged.

'Yes! We must find her.'

O'Flynn tried to stand up but had to be helped by the two men. He had several large bruises on his face, his nose had a trickle of blood from it and he was unsteady on his feet.

'We must search the shoreline first,' he said in a hoarse whisper. 'That's where his last victim was found. It was before I came to work here but apparently she was murdered. The police never came here even though she worked here until she went missing.'

'It's not what yer know, but who yer know – in the right places,' Katterns observed.

'Will 'e be at home?' Freddie asked.

'No. No. He stays away from here and his home whenever this sort of thing happens. He lies low even though he has friends in the right places.'

Work on the newspaper had come to a halt and the workers had gathered round the three men. There was no more barking of orders from O'Flynn as they hesitantly volunteered snippets of information on their employer's behavior, frequently glancing at the entrance as though half expecting him to walk in the door at any minute. Then they started offering suggestions for a systematic search.

O'Flynn, in a choking voice, made an announcement.

'I've decided that because we are going to be involved in a search of the city tomorrow, we need plenty of rest tonight. Tonight's edition of the newspaper will not be published. I believe it will be the first time the Sydney Daily Times has not appeared in all the years it has been in business and I'll take full responsibility for that. It's much more important that we find Polly Asker safe and well.'

O'Flynn paused to wipe some blood from his battered face.

'I'm sorry that I have sometimes turned a blind eye to certain goings on here at the Times.'

The workers stood in awkward silence for a time and then one by one quietly left the building. Freddie Asker and Harold Katterns also left the building and walked the short distance to Harrington Street where they knocked on the door at number ten and asked to speak to Rose Petchell. But Rose stayed out of sight and declined to speak with anyone.

'Tell her that my daughter took Rose's job and has vanished after her first night on the job. We was hoping that Rose would be able to help find her,' Freddie told Rose's father.

He went inside and spoke to Rose again but was soon back at the door.

'No, mate. She says she can't help yer,' he stated firmly.

'We live in Caraher's Lane and she's welcome anytime, if she remembers anything.'

'Okay. I'll tell her,' Petchell said and closed the door.

Next they went to see Ben Bates who lived several doors away from the Askers in Caraher's Lane. The house was in darkness but they knocked regardless. Ben had no idea that anything was amiss but readily agreed to join in the search at first light. He had not seen Polly for several days and was surprised to hear that she had changed her job.

Meanwhile Lizzie visited Polly's friend Ellen Wilkinson who said she had not seen Polly for two days. Ellen agreed to join the search. Then she called on Grandma Ruby just in case Polly had gone there for some reason without telling anyone. From there she walked to her own parents' house and woke them just before midnight. No one had seen Polly.

As Lizzie turned into Caraher's Lane again she heard footsteps behind her and immediately hoped it was Polly. As she turned she recognized Freddie's voice. He sounded very tired.

'We'll find her, me love. Just you wait an' see.'

He put his arm around her as they walked.

'Yes. We'll find her. I know we will.'

Chapter 77

Buckley's Farm

A gentle breeze drifted across the empty land where Polly Asker lay unconscious. As the sun dipped lower in the west, the breeze quickened and she began to stir. At first she felt only the cooling effect of the breeze on her face and limbs as a welcome relief to the hotness of her badly sunburned face, arms and legs.

Then she felt torturous pain as she looked up to see a huge eucalyptus tree towering above her. It was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. Then the pain was suddenly gone. Guided by a brilliant white light she floated up and away from the ground and into the upper-most branches of the tree. She was completely at peace. She turned to look back one last time at the wretched body she had left sprawled on the grass beneath the tree. It was a pathetically sad sight and she was pleased to be freed from it. When she turned again she saw a bearded old man and a stooped old woman with long grey hair hovering in the branches nearby. She had no idea who they were but they smiled warmly and spoke as though they knew her.

'Polly! Polly! Yer time ain't come yet, dearest. Go back, Polly. Go back.'

She listened and watched the old man and woman. It was then that, as they slowly turned away, she saw the gruesome, bloodied signature of the cat-o-nine-tails across their bare backs. Then they were gone.

When Polly regained consciousness she tried to sit up and take stock of her surroundings, but moving was too painful so she lay still and listened to the birds singing. Her throat was as dry as the Gibson Desert and she had no idea how long it was since she'd had anything to eat or drink. She had no idea where she was, what she was doing there, or how long she had been there.

She sat up with some difficulty and the world spun before her eyes. She steadied herself with one hand still on the ground and slowly the events of the day came drifting back. Or was it yesterday? She remembered the vile brute attacking her and felt the pain of her broken ribs and bruised and swollen face. Her vision was still blurred and she knew that she had been left there to die. Nearby she could here the sound of water; a sound that she thought could be from the Tank Stream where she had played as a child. The vacant land she was on must be the last remnant of Buckley's old farm. She needed to get down to the stream for a drink. She was sure that her head would then clear and she would have the strength to get herself to safety before sundown.

Her legs felt weak and unsteady as stood up, so she leaned against the big tree for a few minutes, and then carefully made her way down the slope. The position of the sun reminded her of the urgency with which she must move. Had she already spent a night, or perhaps two nights, in the open? Polly had no way of knowing. In her rush to get to the water she slithered the last few feet down the bank and landed clumsily in the cold, shallow stream. She sat on a rock with her feet in the water and scooped up handfuls of refreshing liquid.

As a little strength returned to her tortured body, Polly was overcome by acute feelings of shame and guilt. It was all her fault. She should never have agreed to work at the Times. She'd had a perfectly good job at the clothing factory. She could never face Ben Bates again, or her ma and pa.

She felt dirty, even after she had washed away the dried blood. She continued scouring herself in the hope that she could wash away the shame and obliterate the memory of the brute and what he had done to her. She removed her clothing, washing each item. She scratched her body with her fingernails until her flesh bled.

She sat on the rock and cried. Still she felt dirty. She wanted her ma but she didn't know how she could ever face her again after what had happened. What could she do? It would have been better if she had died in Buckley's paddock. Then there would be no pain or shame or dirtiness. She would be at peace. She lifted her head up and looked at the soft wisps of cloud drifting gently along on the late afternoon breeze. She imagined her spirit floating along with them to Heaven, which she thought must lie somewhere just beyond the deep blue sky above.

A sudden drop in air temperature brought Polly back to reality. As quickly as she was able she gathered her torn clothes and eased them over her bruises and broken ribs. The cool water had eased her sunburn and she took another drink before starting up the bank again. But she soon found that she did not have the strength to make it all the way up. Nearby she could hear the chorus of the birds in the trees and the rippling of the stream as it continued its journey down to Sydney Cove. Above, the last wisps of cloud had all but dissipated in advance of a cold, clear night.

She'd been an innocent young girl tricked, beaten almost to death, brutally raped and left to die. She wondered if he had done the same thing before. With renewed determination she flew at the bank and scrambled to the top where she collapsed on the grass, utterly exhausted and angry. Slowly, she calmed down and drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 78

The Search

The searchers started arriving at Caraher's Lane before first light. As they came in ones and twos Lizzie and Granny Ruby kept up a flow of tea, toast and porridge. By six-thirty everyone had been fed and sixteen searchers had been assigned to four teams led by Freddie, Cedric Hill, a neighbor from Caraher's Lane, Ben Bates and a much-humbled Patrick O'Flynn. Ruby and Mary stayed at the house to care for the children who were too young to take part in the search.

Each group set out on a shoreline search covering the whole harborside from Darling Harbor in the west to Bennelong Point in the east. Rose Petchell, who turned up quite unexpectedly at the last moment, went with Cedric, Lizzie and Ellen Wilkinson.

They crossed the Tank Stream where it flowed into Sydney Cove and from there they followed the shoreline searching under trees and behind buildings. They took turns at calling Polly's name and listening for an answer. They moved around Bennelong Point and into Farm Cove and their calls went unanswered.

Just before midday they turned back as planned so that they could meet the other searchers back at the Lane before setting out on an afternoon search of other localities. Cedric and his team spoke to numerous people as they moved in both directions, peering into every nook and cranny, behind rocks and into back yards. But nobody had seen the slightly built golden-haired teenager with the lovely blue eyes and friendly smile.

When they reached the Tank Stream again they decided to follow it upstream for a short distance and then return to Caraher's Lane through Buckley's farm. Rose and Ellen walked in the stream carrying their shoes and checking the banks as they went. Lizzie and Cedric each walked on one side of the stream, peering into back yards. At Bridge Street Lizzie crossed over the rickety old bridge while the two girls continued to walk in the stream. When they reached Buckley's farm they threw their shoes up on the bank and scrambled up after them. Their feet dried quickly in the warm morning sun and they were about to put their shoes on again when Lizzie and Cedric caught up with them. Lizzie's sharp eye soon noticed an extra shoe on the bank.

'Oh! Me baby's shoes!' She shrieked. 'Me baby! She's been hurt!'

She held the bloodstained shoe to her bosom.

'She'll be alright, Lizzie. We'll soon find her,' Cedric said trying to sound positive.

'Polly!' he called at the top of his voice, and they all listened for a reply.

'Polly!' Lizzie called.

Silence.

'Polly!'

Again they waited for an answer but heard nothing other than the sound of the the birds in the trees, the stream and the distant sounds of the city.

'Quickly! Let's spread out and search the whole area. Rose, can you check further up the stream? I'll check those old buildings over there if you two can check those paddocks,' Cedric instructed.

They quickly spread out across the remnants of the old farm.

'Polly!'

'Polly!'

'Over here!' A new voice came from afar.

They stopped to listen.

'Over here!'

A man's voice was coming from a nearby housing estate, which backed onto Buckley's farm, and the searchers raced towards the solitary figure standing near one of the houses.

'We're lookin' fer me baby, Polly Asker,' Lizzie cried as they drew nearer.

'She's here, missus. She's in our house. Asleep.'

'Is she okay, mister?'

'She will be, but she's had a bad time an' she'll need a doctor.'

'Me baby! Me baby!' Lizzie cried when she saw Polly curled up asleep in a bed. Her face was flushed and badly bruised and there was still some congealed blood matting her golden hair. Lizzie sat patiently by the side of the bed while the others retreated to the parlor.

William and Mary Harper explained how they had been out for an early morning walk and found Polly on the bank above the stream. She had screamed at the sight of a man and pleaded to be left alone. They spoke gently to gain her trust, helped her to their house where they gave her food and drink and a bath and she hadn't stirred since.

While Lizzie waited for Polly to wake up, Ellen and Rose went to Caraher's Lane to bring Freddie and Ben Bates to the Harper's house.

'Jesus, Mary an' friggin' Joseph!' Freddie exclaimed when he saw his battered little girl. 'I'll kill the bastard what's done this.'

Ben stood by the bed shocked and speechless. A few minutes later he slipped quietly out the door.

It was late when Polly finally woke up again and had some hot soup. Freddie and Lizzie tried to get her talking but to no avail. She just wanted another bath and more sleep.

Chapter 79

The Fight Back

The next morning Freddie hired a cab to take Polly home. When she woke up and saw the carriage she gasped in alarm and at first refused to get on board. Eventually they persuaded her to climb aboard and they all rode back to Caraher's Lane together.

'Yer ready to tell yer ma an' pa what happened?' Freddie asked as they settled in at home.

She looked at the floor for a long time.

'I can't pa.'

'Why, Polly, me dear?' Lizzie urged her.

'I'm ashamed, ma. I'm dirty an' ashamed. Can I have a bath?'

'Yer been in the bath three times at the Harper's. What's with all the bathin' anyway? What's that gonna do?'

She looked at the floor again.

'Polly, we know what happened to yer. Yer was seen leavin' the Times building with that Sir what'sisname what owns the paper an' yer comes home two days later all battered an' bleedin' an' we reckon it was him what done it to yer.'

Freddie was choking with emotion as he spoke. Meanwhile Polly rocked gently back and forth and the tears glided down her cheeks.

'It's true ain't it, Polly?' Lizzie asked as gently as she could.

Polly slowly nodded in agreement without meeting their eyes and the flow of tears increased. Lizzie and Freddie sat one on each side of her and put their arms around her. For the next few minutes her body shook with grief while she sobbed her heart out. It was some time before anyone spoke again.

'We loves yer very much, Polly,' Lizzie said at last. 'And you're always such a good girl. We're very proud of yer. Yer 'ave no reason to feel dirty or ashamed. But now yer gotta start fightin' back like the Asker that yer is.'

Polly nodded in agreement and started wiping away her tears. Then there was a knock on the door and Freddie went to see who it was. While he was away Lizzie put her arm around Polly again.

'If yer wanna tell the police everything we'll back yer all the way.'

'No! No! I ain't gonna do nothin' like that, ma,' Polly said emphatically.

'Yer got a visitor, Polly,' Freddie said as he ushered Rose Petchell into the room.

Polly stared at the floor in embarrassment.

'Yer gotta go to the police, Polly.' Rose spoke with conviction.

'Yer don't know what it's like.'

'Yes I do. He did it to me too,' Rose said flatly.

Their eyes met and in that instant they knew that they would be friends for life.

'I could have warned you, Polly, when yer came to the printing works that night but I didn't have the nerve. Please forgive me. I just wanted to get out o' there an' get on with me life. When I heard you'd gone missing I knew straight away what had happened and I wanted to help right from the start but I was scared, like you. We should go to the police together.'

'No, Rose. I couldn't do it. I'm really scared.'

'Did yer try to fight 'im off?'

Polly nodded in the affirmative.

'That's because you're a fighter, Polly. You've got what it takes an' now yer have a chance to fight 'im an' win, legal like. It was different for me. When he threatened me I just let 'im 'ave 'is way. One girl who tried to fight 'im off got 'erself murdered but nothing was done about it because there was never a complaint laid with the police. It was just a case of a missing person and an accidental death. That could have been you, Polly. Could be the next girl what gets in 'is way. Polly, we gotta stop 'im afore it happens again.'

'He's gotta be stopped. If the police don't get 'im I will,' Freddie hissed.

The two girls stared at each other for a long time while Polly thought about Rose's suggestion.

'You're right, Rose,' she whispered hoarsly. 'We've gotta stop 'im before it happens again. And, Rose, thanks.'

'You sure that's what yer wanna do?' Lizzie asked.

'Yeah. Certain, ma, an' I wanna do it now before I gets scared again an' change me mind.'

'Good girl. We'll back yer all the way.'

Polly got slowly to her feet. Her limbs were still stiff and she felt weak but her resolve was firm.

'I thought I was dying on that farm. Had a weird dream about floating up in the trees an' lookin' down on me own body. There was a bright light and an old man and woman floatin' up there too. They knew me name! They said I had to go back. It wasn't me time to go.'

Freddie turned as white as a ghost.

'I had the same dream once. I was in Darlinghurst. I was pretty sick at the time an' I saw these two ol' folks floating near the roof o' me cell. I seen the bright light an' I seen me own body. They told me to go back too. They was very old an' stooped with weather-beaten faces an' the trade mark o' the cat across their backs. The man had a long white beard. Me ol' mate, Joker Hammond, reckoned they was me ancestors an' the only ones I could think of was Nathaniel an' Isobel Asker who came with the First Fleet. Anyway they wanted me to stay an' put up a fight fer me life. I reckon they was a turnin' point in me life. Darlinghurst was the place I fought back from, tryin' to make somethin' of me life. I reckon they'd want you to fight too.'

'I suppose if I let that brute trample all over me an' ruin me life without puttin' up a fight, then I ain't an Asker. Okay, Rose. I's ready to fight.'

'Good on yer, Polly. Yer got what it takes.'

Chapter 80

Indifference

Senior Constable Albert Norman grinned.

'You can't lay a complaint on behalf of another person, Asker, unless of course, you're trying to tell me that someone has assaulted and raped you. But you don't look any more disheveled than is normal for you.'

Freddie Asker ignored the insult.

'We need your help, constable. Please tell us what we 'ave to do to get justice.'

'First the victim must come to the station with any witnesses. She will need to submit to a medical examination. She will have to identify the alleged rapist. The complainant must be a person of good character and morals and a virgin.' Norman gave a sly grin before going on. 'And that pretty much eliminates everyone in your neighborhood.'

'That's an insult to a lot of good folks, constable. I only want yer to help me daughter get some justice.'

'Best thing you can do, Asker, is go home, cool off a bit and forget about accusing Sir Walter Glengyle. You'll never win against his standing in the community. Apart from that you don't have to be clever to know that a woman with her skirts around her head can run faster than a man with his breeches around his ankles. Best just forget about it.'

'We'll see about that,' Freddie said defiantly as he strode out the door.

When Freddie spoke to Polly again she wavered.

'Don't really know what to do now. If the police ain't interested I ain't got much of a chance an' I don't fancy some strange doctor lookin' at me. Maybe it was all me fault.' She started to cry again.

'It won't be that bad, Polly. He'll understand,' Lizzie said trying to sound encouraging. 'And I'll be with yer all the time.'

Polly shook her head and looked at the floor. Rose Petchell appeared in the doorway.

'Yer gotta do it, Polly. If yer don't he'll do it again an' again until someone else gets killed. Yer don't want that to happen, do yer?'

Polly stared at the floor again.

'No,' she said feebly.

'Come on then. Let's go. If we waste time the evidence will be gone,' Rose said.

A few minutes later Polly, Freddie, Lizzie and Rose left the rented shanty in Caraher's Lane.

At the police station Senior Constable Norman took a statement from Polly while another constable went to summon Doctor Oswald Suckling. When the doctor arrived he examined Polly without comment, wrote a report, sealed it in an envelope and handed it to the senior constable.

'Well, that's all I can do for the moment,' Norman said. 'I suggest you all just go home and, if there's a case, we'll contact you in due course.'

'So that's it?' Freddie asked.

'That's it,' Norman said with finality.

'Ain't yer gonna go with us to examine the scene?'

'I may do. But you don't need to worry about that.'

'Ain't yer gonna bring the accused in so Polly can identify 'im?'

'Not at this stage. We all know who she is accusing and he's a busy man, Asker. As I said, I think you should all go home and leave it to us.'

'Yer ain't gonna do nothin' about it, are yer?'

'A decision will be made in due course.'

'Bullshit! You've already made up yer mind. Glengyle must be one o' yer mates.'

'I could arrest you for that kind of language, Asker.'

Freddie Asker was already half-way to the door. He stopped and turned to face Norman again.

'If yer got time to arrest me for bullshit, yer got time to arrest Glengyle for rape.'

'Come on, pa,' Polly pleaded. 'I've had enough. I just wanna get home an' forget about it all.'

Chapter 81

Toby Barton

They walked home together silently seething with anger and humiliation, knowing that they could not depend on the police for justice. They passed the Sydney Daily Times building and Freddie was tempted to throw something through the window of Sir Walter's office. They walked on in silence, trying to think of a way to force the police to act. Further along the street they walked passed the Sydney Tribune News building before turning into Caraher's lane.

'That's it,' Rose said suddenly. 'The Daily Times and the Tribune News are bitter enemies. I wonder...?'

She paused to think about the likely implications of her idea.

'Yer really think they'd print it?' Freddie asked.

'We'll never know if we don't give it a try.'

'Birds with like feathers fly together...'

'Not these birds, Mr Asker. They're real bitter enemies.'

Lizzie stayed with Polly and Granny Ruby while Freddie and Rose walked back to the office of the Tribune News. The receptionist asked them to wait for a reporter and Freddie, always impatient, paced the floor vacantly glancing at the paintings on the walls and other items normally found in a reception area. His eye fell on a sign board displaying the names of present and former board members of the Sydney Tribune News. He was surprised to see the name of his old friend, Toby Barton, on the list of former directors. Freddie had little time for politics and politicians but he knew that Barton had recently been elected to the Legislative Council of New South Wales.

'See this,' Freddie said to Rose. 'Edmund Barton. We called 'im Toby. He's me old mate. I taught 'im how to box...'

He was interrupted by the arrival of a reporter who took an immediate interest in Polly's attack.

'We know about Sir Walter,' he said confidentially, 'He's got quite a reputation. However, it's the first time we've interviewed one of his victims. I'll pass this on to our editor and I hope you get some justice.'

'Thanks, mate. Ah... What did yer say yer name was?'

'Grover Fairweather.'

'Thanks, Mr Fairweather.'

A week went by without any developments from the Tribune News or the police. Asker went to see Grover Fairweather again.

'Come in, Mr Asker,' the young man said cordially. 'I was hoping that you would call again. After you left last week I went to the police station and spoke with Senior Constable Norman and I'm sorry to say that he poured cold water on the allegations. He also showed me a medical report, which will make it rather difficult to establish a case against Sir Walter. The report claims that the examination did not reveal any injury consistent with rape. But then, and please don't quote me, that particular doctor has done that before. So we are in a quandary, Mr Asker. My editor would dearly love to take Glengyle and the Daily Times to task, but he doesn't want to get it wrong.'

'He won't be getting it wrong, mate. You saw the girl. She'd been beaten almost to death, her spirit all but broke. How could anyone not believe her? It's no wonder that friggin' quack wouldn't let us see 'is report. I'd 've knocked 'is friggin' block off.'

The reporter held up a hand pleading for Freddie to listen.

'When I first met you last week I heard you mention Mr Edmund Barton. Do you know him?'

'I used to know 'im well. But that's a long time ago. We were only kids.'

The reporter leaned forward to speak in a hushed tone.

'Mr Barton resigned from our board when he became a member of the Legislative Council. However, it may interest you to know that his seat on the board was taken by the Honorable A.G. Spence, also a member of the Legislative Council and the Minister of Police. Perhaps, Mr Asker, I've already said too much. Mr Barton and Mr Spence are in different political camps, but I suggest that you go and see your old friend at the Legislative Council building.'

Freddie Asker sat quietly for a moment while he tried to comprehend the significance of the Fairweather's suggestion.

'Yeah, thanks, mate. I think I will.'

Freddie was asked to wait in a small waiting room while a messenger brought Edmund Barton from the debating chamber.

'Hello, Toby.'

'Hello, Freddie.' Barton beamed when he saw his old friend. 'What a wonderful surprise. It must be twenty-five years at least. Are we going to a prize-fight?'

'I'd love to, mate. Those were great times, but how about a political scrap?'

'There's always plenty of that around here.'

He looked closely at his old prizefighting coach.

'Is there a particular problem that I can help with?'

When Asker had finished outlining the sad saga of Glengyle and Polly, the police and the Tribune News, Barton was clearly upset by the events and expressed his profound sorrow for Polly. He was silent for a time as they walked in the grounds of the Legislative Council building.

'Caution on the part of the newspaper and police may be the problem rather than any kind of corruption. But, of course, one never knows for certain. It would appear to me that if the police were to make an arrest, the Tribune would publish something. Likewise if the paper published the police would feel obliged to act too. The connection between them is the Minister of Police, Mr Spence, because he is also a member of the newspaper board of directors. I'll have a quiet word in his ear.'

'Supposing he ignores yer, Toby?'

'He'll think about it and I'm sure he'll soon realize that he can't just sit on his hands. Glengyle may be a rival in the publishing business, but he is also a friend of the Government in which Spence is a minister. Spence knows that I was once a prize-fighter and that I could easily turn political pugilist. A simple inquiry in the House at question time could create a scandal of sufficient magnitude to threaten Spence's future in Cabinet, if not the Government's own survival prospects.'

They turned the corner at the front of the building again. The sun was warm and a few small clouds drifted overhead. The rose gardens looked beautiful.

'Yes. I think that will do it, Freddie. It may take a few days but I think you can return to your family with some hope. I sincerely trust that young Polly will make a full recovery from her ordeal.'

'Thanks, Toby. It's great to have a mate like you.'

'Give my regards to Lizzie too. And what about your mother, I trust she is still alive and well?'

'Too right. Granny Ruby is still going strong.'

'Please give her my regards too.'

A week later Senior Constable Meder called to see the Askers.

'It's about the complaint laid by Miss Polly Asker,' he said when Lizzie answered the door.

'Yeah? What about it?'

'I'm here to investigate it. Is Miss Polly at home?'

'She's always home these days. What happened to the investigation started by Constable Norman?'

'Ah... Well, Mr Norman is from a different station. They must be busy over there.'

'Come in, constable.'

Chapter 82

The Trial

Two months later the crown opened its case against Sir Walter Glengyle in the Sydney police magistrate's court with Sir Sebastian Starkie presiding.

The clerk of the court rose to his feet and cleared his throat.

'The Queen versus Walter Bannock Kirkton Glengyle,' he announced.

Sir Walter rose from his seat and moved forward to the dock, nodding respectfully to the bench and the jury. He looked an impressive figure in his expensive dark suit with gold watch and chain displayed to best advantage on the front of his matching waistcoat. His slightly greying hair was immaculately groomed. He was obviously a man of importance around town. Every member of the jury knew that he was a highly respected businessman, benefactor and potential politician. Even so, his bearing and presence close up in the flesh immediately struck those members of the jury who had not previously seen him. Some jurors cast a quick glance at Freddie and Lizzie Asker, were seated with Polly, somewhat insignificantly at the back of the court. They seemed intimidated by the authority of the court and its formal procedures.

'Please state your full name, sir?' the clerk asked in a tone that begged forgiveness for having to ask.

'Walter Bannock Kirkton Glengyle – Knight of the Realm.'

The clerk coughed nervously.

'Walter Bannock Kirkton Glengyle you are charged that on the third day of April 1880 at Sydney you did rape one Polly Winifred Asker. How do you plead, guilty or not guilty?'

Glengyle turned to face the two lines of jurors, making deliberate eye contact with each one before finally facing the judge and answering firmly.

'Not guilty, your honor.'

'You may be seated, Sir Walter,' Sir Sebastian Starkie announced with a slight trace of a sympathetic smile.

As Glengyle thanked the judge gracefully and sat down, a smaller, bald-headed man in the center of the court rose quickly to his feet.

'If it pleases your honor I represent Sir Walter.'

'Thank you, Mr Applegate.' The judge peered over his spectacles at the lawyer for a moment before turning to the police prosecutor. 'Senior Constable Meder, please proceed.'

'If it pleases your honor,' Meder began. 'There were originally two charges but one of those, which involved a different complainant has been withdrawn.

'Yes, Mr Meder. Please just proceed.'

'The prosecution will call the complainant and four witnesses. I call Polly Winifred Asker.'

Polly nervously made her way forward to the witness stand. The court was quiet as she was sworn in but she could feel that all eyes were on her and she felt uncomfortable, embarrassed and intimidated. The twelve smartly dressed gentlemen seated in two rows along the side of the courtroom seemed to be scrutinizing her particularly closely. She wondered how she was expected to tell her story clearly and fully with them listening to every embarrassing detail and word. She looked at them again. There was not one woman among them. She felt dirty again. The brute had robbed her of her pride and dignity and she would feel dirty for as long as she lived. There he was, as large as life, glaring at her with the most withering look she had ever seen. She wanted to run from the courthouse screaming. She was no longer able to face him. Then she remembered what wise old Granny Ruby had told her. 'Don't be afraid o' nothin'. Glengyle makes out like 'e's superior, but he's just a dirty, low-down crook an' a weakling. Yer can hold yer head high, me girl, an' look 'im straight in the eye.'

She turned to face the accused, trying to stare him down. He glared back at her.

Chapter 83

Polly's Evidence

'Please state your full name.'

'Polly Winifred Asker.'

The clerk of the court spoke abruptly.

'Your honor, if you don't mind, Asker. You know the right form of address.'

'Address? I lives in Caraher's Lane.'

The judge leaned forward over the bench and smiled at her.

'Asker, what he is saying is that I am the judge here and when you speak to me you must address me as your honor. Do you understand?'

Several members of the jury chuckled at her confusion and naivety.

'I... I'm trying, your honor. I'm scared. I ain't never been in a court before,' she said in a low voice that was barely audible to the jurors.

'Now, Senior Constable, if we could just get on with it.'

'As it pleases your honor,' he responded and then turned to Polly. 'Miss Polly, I would like to ask you how you came to meet the accused, Sir Walter Glengyle?'

'He knocked on the door while I was visiting me friend in Caraher's Lane.'

'Can you identify the accused in court?'

'Yes, sir.'

Meder waited for her to continue.

'Oh... You want me to identify him, like point him out? I thought everyone knows who he is.'

'Well perhaps, but I'd like you to point him out to the court. We need to be sure that we have the right person, don't we?'

'Yes. I understand now, sir. That's 'im there. The big man there in the flash suit with the gold chain. The one what's presented by the little man over there with hardly any hair.'

'Thank you, Asker. That will be enough. Now, after meeting Sir Walter, did you leave your friend's house Sir Walter?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Why did you go with him?'

'He offered me a job with his newspaper.'

'And did you walk along Caraher's Lane and Cribb's Lane as far as the Whaler's Arms Hotel with him?'

'Yes.'

'And what happened then, Asker?'

'Yer can call me Polly if yer like.'

'No. That would not do at all. I will call you Asker, or Miss Polly, you will call the judge your honor and you will call me sir. That's the way it has to be in the court. Now please answer the question.'

Polly looked nervously round the courtroom.

'Ah... What was the question, sir?'

'What happened after you got to the Whaler's Arms Hotel?'

'Oh, yes. We got into his carriage an' went to the newspaper place, sir.'

'Then what happened?'

'He showed me how the newspaper is made, sir.'

'What was the job that he offered you?'

'Folding the pages an' getting them in the right order with the page numbers, like.'

'And did you accept the job?'

'Yes, sir.'

'After the trip in the carriage which you have already mentioned, did you at any other time ride in the carriage?'

'Yes, sir.'

'How many times?'

'Twice more, sir.'

'Who drove the carriage on those occasions?'

'Once it was Sir Walter's driver and the other times it was Sir Walter his self.'

'Did you like riding in the carriage?'

'Oh, yes. It was wonderful. I ain't never done that before.'

'And did you like Sir Walter and his driver?'

'Yes, sir. They was both very nice to me except...'

'Except what?'

'Except what he done to me the last time I was on the carriage, sir.'

'What did he do to you, Miss Polly?'

For a moment she stared at the floor in front of her, too embarrassed to proceed. Then she heard Granny Ruby's advice again and turned to face her attacker. Starting to speak again, she glared at him until he was forced to look away. Suddenly she was more confident. There was no going back. She was telling it the way it was.

'He forced me onto 'is carriage. I didn't wanna go. He had a hold o' me with 'is big strong arm. He steered the horses with the other hand an' 'e whipped 'em into a fast trot so's we were goin' too fast for me to jump off. We passed a gentleman that I knows near the Whaler's Arms but I was too scared to call out. He took me to Buckley's Farm an' stopped the carriage. I tried to get away but 'e was too strong for me. Then 'e put 'is free hand inside me clothes an' that made me angry. I ain't that sort o' girl. Then I done a silly thing. I hit 'im in the face with me fist an' next thing I know I'm on the ground with 'im on top o' me, an' that's the truth!' Suddenly she burst into tears and buried her face in her hands.

'Can you tell the court exactly what happened after you hit him?'

'He went off 'is rocker. He punched me in the face. I saw 'is fist comin' an' everything went black around me.'

'Did you pass out?'

'I think so cos I don't remember getting' off the carriage. Like I said, next thing I knew I was on the ground with 'im on top o' me an' I was in terrible pain.'

'Can you tell the court exactly what he was doing while he was on top of you?'

For a moment she looked blankly at the policeman. Then she screamed.

''E was raping me! That's what 'e was friggin' doin'. Him! That brute in the suit with the friggin' brass chain. Him!' she jabbed a finger toward the accused.

Sir Sebastian Starkie interrupted.

'Asker, you must control your emotions. I cannot allow any outbursts or intemperate language in my court. Do you understand?'

She tried to compose herself.

'Yes, sir... Your honor. I'm trying but it were a really horrible, horrible thing what 'e done an' I don't think I'm ever gonna get over it.'

'Very well, Asker. Please continue, Mr Meder.'

'Miss Polly, did you mean to say that the accused was having sexual intercourse with you against your will?'

'Yes, sir.'

'What was the state of your clothing while that was happening?'

'Me clothing were torn to shreds an' bloodied, sir.'

'Are these the items of clothing that you are now referring to?'

Meder held up several items for her and the jury.

'That's them, sir.'

'Forgive me for laboring the point, Miss Polly, but we have to be absolutely certain of everything. While the accused was on top of you were you naked from the waist down?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Did you remove any of your items of clothing yourself before or during the alleged rape?'

'No!'

'Thank you, Miss Polly. Did you do anything at all to assist the accused to have sexual intercourse with you?'

'No!'

'Did you at any time indicate to the accused that you were willing to have sexual intercourse with him?'

'No! I begged him to stop! I ain't never agreed to do that for anyone never.'

'Had you ever been raped before?'

'No, sir.'

'So prior to the alleged rape by the accused were you in fact a virgin?'

'Yes, sir, I was.'

'Thank you, Miss Asker. Please answer any questions.'

Sir Sebastian peered over his glasses at the defense lawyer.

'Your witness, Mr Applegate.'

Chapter 84

Mr Applegate

Polly felt apprehensive as the balding little gnome got to his feet and turned to face her. He had a disarming smile but she had been warned that it was just window dressing and she needed to be on guard.

'Miss Asker, I want to ask you a question with regard to your interview for the printing job at the newspaper. Did you go inside Sir Walter's office?'

'Yes, sir.'

'What time of the day was that?'

'It was at night, sir.'

'Who was with you at the time?'

'Just Sir Walter, sir.'

'Miss Asker, do you know a young man by the name of Benjamin Bates?'

Polly looked surprised by the question.

'Yes, sir. What's 'e got to do with this?'

'If you don't mind, I'll ask the questions. Please tell the court about your relationship with Benjamin Bates. Was he your boyfriend?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Did you sleep with him?'

'No! No! I never done that with anyone – at least not till he forced me to do it.' She thrust a stabbing finger in the direction of Glengyle and then burst into tears.

Suddenly the judge looked up from his papers.

'Please control yourself, Asker. I won't allow any more outbursts in my court. Please continue, Mr Applegate.'

'Please tell the court, is Bates still your boyfriend?'

'No, sir. I ain't seen 'im since I was beaten an' raped an' left to die by that brute there.' She pointed angrily at Glengyle again.

'Why haven't you seen him, Asker?'

'I don't know, sir. You'd 'ave to ask 'im that.'

'How long after the beating and the alleged rape were you examined by a doctor?'

'I think it was a day or two. Because I passed out I was never sure about the time of things.'

'How long after the alleged rape did you first report to the police?'

'It must have been a day or two.'

'Do you remember which police officer you reported to?'

'I don't remember exactly, like I said I passed out and lost track of time. But it was the same time as the doctor's examination.'

'Now I want to ask you about some names that you may know. Do you know Mr Vernon MacIntosh?'

'Yes, sir. He was the gentleman that I saw near the Whaler's Arms when I was on the carriage.'

'Matthew Thompson. Do you know that person?'

'Can't say as I do, sir.'

'Can you tell me the name of Sir Walter's driver?'

'No, sir.'

'What about Anne McKean. Do you know her?'

'Yes. She lives opposite in Caraher's Lane.'

'Have you been inside her house?'

'Yes, sir.'

'How many times?'

'I dunno. A few.'

'Can you tell the court what kind of business Mrs. McKean runs from her house?'

'Me ma says she runs a brothel.'

'So why would you want to go inside her house?'

'Oh, none of our business what she does. We've only been in to borrow things for cookin' and things like that. She's our neighbor.'

'Now you've stated in evidence that my client, Sir Walter Glengyle, beat you and raped you. Prior to that allegedly happening, did my client ever fondle, kiss, or touch you in any way before your last ride on the carriage with him?'

Polly's eyes darted around the courtroom in search of a way out of this new and embarrassing predicament. Everywhere she looked eyes and faces were turned away from her.

'I can't remember, sir.'

'Oh, come now, Miss Polly. Why can't you remember? Have you been fondled, kissed and touched by so many men that now you can't remember who did what?'

'No! No! I'm sorry. I do remember. It's just that it's so embarrassing I didn't want to talk about it.'

'Did you lie then?'

'Kind of.'

She stared at the floor knowing that she had trapped herself.

'If you admit to lying about being fondled and kissed why should the jury believe you when you claim to have been beaten and raped?'

'Because it's the truth, sir.'

'And why should they believe you when you claim to have been a virgin before having intercourse with my client?

'Because it's the truth, sir.'

'That will be all, Miss Polly.'

As Polly stepped down the senior constable spoke gently to her.

'You did well, Polly. You can sit with your family now.'

'Thank you, sir. You're real kind.'

Chapter 85

The Witnesses

Senior Constable Meder rose to his feet again to call his next witness.

'The prosecution calls John Francis Langsford.'

A tall middle aged man entered the courtroom and made his way to the witness stand and was sworn in.

'Please state your full name and occupation.'

'John Francis Langsford, medical practitioner.'

Do you recall examining Polly Winifred Asker earlier this year?'

'I do.'

'Please tell the court about that examination.'

'She came to me with her parents after she had allegedly been assaulted and raped. I examined the girl in the presence of her mother and found that she was extremely distressed and traumatized. She had multiple bruises and abrasions to her head, chest, arms and legs. She was also suffering from concussion. I examined her genital area and found that sexual intercourse had taken place within the previous two or three days. She had extensive injuries in that area, which led me to believe that considerable force had been used by whoever had had intercourse with her. From my examination I also formed the opinion that she had most likely been a virgin before that event. I recall urging Miss Asker to report the attack to the police whereupon I was informed that the family were on their way home from having reported to the police and having been examined by the police doctor.'

'Thank you, Doctor Langsford. Please answer any questions.'

Applegate considered the testimony for a moment. He had the report from Doctor Suckling but he doubted the wisdom of trying to introduce it into evidence since the doctor had made himself unavailable. He could have used a subpoena to get the doctor to court but that could have proved unwise too. He decided not to question the witness.

'Thank you, Doctor Langsford. You may stand down,' the judge said.

Senior Constable Meder rose to his feet again.

'I call Patrick Michael O'Flynn.'

All was quiet while the court waited.

'Patrick Michael O'Flynn,' the clerk called in loud voice and opened the door leading to the witness room.

Meder waited a few seconds longer.

'In that case, your honor, I call William Harper to the stand.'

Harper told the court that he and his wife were out walking on the vacant land known as Buckley's Farm when they discovered Polly Asker asleep in a paddock. At first when they saw her injuries, the blood and the state of her clothing, they thought she had been murdered. When they realized she was breathing he left his wife with her while he went back to their house for some warm clothing. When Harper returned Polly was awake but in a very confused and distressed state but she was clear on one thing and that was that she had been beaten and raped.

'We wanted to take her to her home but she said she was too ashamed to go home. We suggested a doctor but she declined. We also suggested the police but again she declined. She said she just wanted to die. Finally, we managed to convince her to come to our house so that we could care for her. Later we saw some people, who turned out to be her family, searching for her and I called to them across the paddock.'

Harper stated that Polly had been with them about six hours before the family found her. He then started to describe her injuries. Applegate immediately objected.

'Your honor, the witness is attempting to give expert evidence on matters upon which he is not qualified.'

'I agree, Mr Applegate. The jury will ignore that part of the testimony.

But Meder was not finished.

'Mr Harper I don't wish to get an expert opinion from you. A doctor who gave evidence earlier described Miss Asker's injuries in terms that a layman could understand. He said her injuries included multiple bruises and abrasions to the head, chest, arms and legs. Are those the kind of injuries that you observed?'

'Yes, sir. Exactly.'

As Harper left the stand Meder called Rose Petchell.

'Please state your full name and occupation.'

'Rose Lillian Petchell, unemployed, sir.'

'Would you please tell the court how you came to be unemployed?'

'Yes, sir. I worked in the printery at the Sydney Tribune News. Once when I was leaving the printery at the end of my shift I met Sir Walter Glengyle outside. He just seemed to be going passed when I came out. He spoke to me and offered me a job at his company on better money. I accepted. After I had been on the job about three days he offered me a ride to my house in his carriage and I accepted because he seemed a nice man and it seemed a friendly offer. After we left the newspaper building he drove me to Buckley's Farm. I asked him to stop but he refused. At Buckley's Farm he stopped the carriage and forced himself onto...'

Applegate was on his feet like a shot from a gun.

'Objection, your honor. I'm trying to be patient with these witnesses but the Senior Constable should know that the court must only hear evidence that pertains to the particular charge before the court. I submit, your honor, that evidence pertaining to other allegations, or a charge withdrawn, is inadmissible here.'

'Quite right, Mr Applegate. The witness will confine herself to matters related to the alleged rape of Polly Asker. If she has no evidence in that regard then she should not be here. Do you understand, Petchell?'

'I think so, sir, your honor. It's just that I knew Polly was taking over me job an' I could have warned her...'

Senior Constable Meder pressed on.

'How old are you, Miss Petchell?'

'Sixteen, sir.'

'Are you still a virgin?'

'No, sir, I'm not!'

'When did you lose your virginity, Miss Petchell?'

She turned angrily towards Glengyle and jabbed a finger at him.

'The same day that he raped me and made me unemployed!'

'That's enough, Petchell,' the judge interrupted. 'Did you actually see the accused raping Asker?'

'No, sir.'

'Then you have no right to say that he did, or to even hint that he might have done. Do you understand?'

'I suppose so when you put it that way, sir.'

'The witness is dismissed.'

'But, sir.'

'Stand down, Petchell!'

Chapter 86

Vernon MacIntosh

Freddie Asker could scarcely contain himself.

'Jesus, Mary an' friggin' Joseph. Some bastard like him hanged Ned Kelly just last week. Friggin' kangaroo court, if yer ask me,' he said to Lizzie.

Then he went into one of his frequent coughing fits.

Just then a policeman arrived with a message for Senior Constable Meder. He quickly read the note.

'Your honor, I regret to inform the court that I have just been advised that Mr O'Flynn passed from this life early this morning, by his own hand I believe, and therefore I have decided not to... I mean, your honor, he may not...'

Sir Sebastian continued writing absentmindedly without looking up or changing his expression, while the policeman spoke.

'Yes, alright, Senior Constable, I'll excuse him this time. Please get on.'

Meder then announced that he had finished the case for the prosecution.

At two o'clock Sir Sebastian Starkie entered the courtroom again after the luncheon adjournment. All present, except the Asker group at the rear, rose to show their respect on the command of the clerk. He glared at them and repeated the order.

'All stand!'

Polly, Lizzie, Freddie, Ruby and all Polly's friends and supporters remained seated. The clerk went to speak again but abruptly changed his mind when he saw the women and Freddie glaring back at him in resolute defiance. His hesitation cost him a possible moment of glory in a long and undistinguished career.

'Mr Applegate, are you ready to proceed?'

'Yes, your honor. The defense calls Vernon MacIntosh.'

Applegate led MacIntosh skillfully through his evidence regarding his sighting of Sir Walter and Polly Asker riding in the carriage.

'Do you have any doubt that the young lady you saw was Polly Asker?'

'No doubt at all. The Askers live in the adjoining neighborhood and like most people in the area I know them well. They're a big family, which over the years has been in bit of trouble here and there with the law...'

It was Meder's turn to object.

'Your honor, the witness is attempting to besmirch the complainant's good name. Polly Asker is not the person on trial here and indeed Miss Asker has never been in any kind of trouble with the law.'

'I accept that Mr Meder. Please continue, Mr Applegate.'

'Do you have any doubt that the person with her was the accused?'

'No doubt whatsoever. I know him well. He's a fine gentleman and an outstanding citizen.'

'When you saw them was there any conversation between you and them?'

'Yes. Sir Walter and I exchanged greetings, as we always do, but Polly turned her face away from me. She had her arm around Sir Walter and she seemed keen to get on with the business she had in mind.'

Meder was quickly on his feet to protest.

'Your honor, I have no doubt that the witness is an observant man. But I must object to his testimony about what he claims to have seen in the complainant's mind.'

'Very eloquently put, Mr Meder,' the judge smiled. 'But I can see what you have in mind and your objection is overruled.'

Applegate smiled smugly.

'Please tell the court what you believe she had in mind, Mr MacIntosh?'

'She was plainly trying to seduce him. He was a great catch for a girl like her.'

'What do you mean, "A girl like her"?

'As I said she's well known around the neighborhood as a prostitute.'

'Thank you, Mr MacIntosh. That will be all.'

Meder rose to question the witness.

'Mr MacIntosh I was impressed by the forthright manner in which you gave your testimony. Naturally, the jury will decide just how much of it is actually credible. Is it true that you are a man who has strong opinions on moral questions?'

'Very true.'

'And you like to express those opinions as often as possible?'

'I do.'

'And to the widest possible audience?'

'Certainly and why shouldn't I?'

'I have no difficulty with that, Mr MacIntosh, and I understand that you frequently express your views on moral matters by writing to the editor of the Sydney Daily Times. Is that correct?'

MacIntosh could see the trap. He hesitated.

'Come on, Mr MacIntosh. Either you do or you don't. Which is it?'

'Well so what? It's not a crime to write to the newspapers, is it?'

'So do you frequently write to the Sydney Daily Times?'

'Yes. But it's not a crime.'

'Thank you, Mr MacIntosh. It would only be a crime if you gained access to the editor's column by first agreeing to give false evidence in a court of law. Is that what happened, Mr MacIntosh?'

'No! Absolutely not and I think it's damned impertinent of you to even ask such a question.'

Chapter 87

Ben Bates

Next Applegate called Jacob Loveday, the editor of the Sydney Daily Times from the witnesses' room. Loveday testified that he returned to his office late one night, as he sometimes did, and noticed a light under Sir Walter's door. Thinking that the publisher had forgotten to extinguish the light he opened the door to the office and found Sir Walter and Polly Asker kissing and fondling each other. He quietly retreated but saw enough to be convinced that Polly Asker was enjoying herself immensely.

'Could you be more specific?'

'Yes. She had her hand inside his breeches.'

'Had you ever seen Sir Walter in a similar situation before?'

'No. It was quite out of character for him. In fact I had to look twice to make sure it was him.'

'Thank you, Mr Loveday. That will be all.'

Then it was Meder's turn to question Loveday.

'Mr Loveday, I'd like to ask you a question about the letters to the editor column in the Sydney Daily Times. Can you explain why a frequent correspondent to the column, a Mr MacIntosh, has had a letter published several times a week for the last three months, whilst prior to that his letters, although written frequently then too, were rarely published? Can you please explain?'

Loveday smiled.

'Perhaps he has improved his writing skills.'

'Or perhaps the editor improves the letters for him?'

'An editor has license to do that, sir. It's part of the job.'

'Of course. But from one or two a year to several times a week is a huge increase, is it not?'

'Yes. It is.'

'So has there been a special arrangement to coincide with the attack on Miss Asker and the giving of false evidence at this trial?'

'No! Definitely not!'

'Thank you, Mr Loveday. That will be all.'

'The defense now calls Benjamin Thomas Bates.'

Polly's heart sank when she heard his name called. She had not seen or heard from him since soon after the attack. Whatever could he have to tell them? She still loved him dearly but in a way she was pleased that she had not had to face him. She still felt guilty and dirty, and that she had let him down. In another way she felt that he had let her down when she most needed him and she could not understand why he had done that. As he took the stand she studied him closely and noticed that he seemed to have matured since she had last seen him. He was a fine looking lad.

'Please state your full name and occupation.'

'Benjamin Thomas Bates. Printing apprentice.'

'Please tell the court about your relationship with Polly Asker.'

'Wadda yer wanna know?'

'How long have you known Polly Asker?'

'A few years.'

'Was your relationship in the nature of boy-friend and girl-friend?'

Polly felt the blood rush from her face as Ben's words reached her ears.

'Yeah, sure. We were havin' it off, if that's what yer mean.'

'Do you mean you were sleeping with her and having a sexual relationship?'

'That's right. Seems everyone else was too.'

Polly felt her cheeks burn bright red as Ben's lies echoed around the courtroom.

'By that do you mean that most of your friends sleep with someone too?'

'What I meant was that half the population of Sydney was havin' it off with Polly.'

'How did you know that?'

'To start with I didn't know. But after she got beaten up, they told me they'd been havin' it off with her. Ain't no wonder she got beat up. She's a harlot.'

Senior Constable Meder was brief with Ben Bates.

'Mr Bates, would you please tell the court who employs you?

'The Sydney Daily Times.'

'How long have you been employed there?'

'About six months.'

'Please think again and answer the question. How long have you been employed at the Sydney Daily Times?'

'Well maybe about three months. I'm not sure.'

'Would it not be correct to say that your employment there started about three days after the alleged rape of Miss Asker?'

'Ah... I suppose so.'

'That will be all, Bates.'

Chapter 88

The Liveryman

Polly was devastated. He had sold his sweetheart for a job with the brute. Yet, strangely, she felt sorry for him. They both had a burden to carry for the rest of their lives. Her tears flowed freely and she buried her face in her hands as he walked passed her, out of the courtroom and out of her life. Then she heard the prosecutor calling Matthew Thompson. She had no idea who Matthew Thompson might be. But when she saw him she knew who he was but still wondered how he was involved in the case.

'Please state your name and occupation.'

'Matthew Thompson, liveryman and carriage driver.'

'Please tell the court about your experience with Polly Asker.'

He told the court that one night he had driven Sir Walter to the Whaler's Arms Hotel where he was asked to wait. About an hour later Sir Walter returned to the carriage with a young woman and he then drove them to the newspaper building in George Street where Sir Walter and the girl went inside. About an hour later they came out again and Sir Walter asked him to take the girl to her home in Caraher's Lane. Applegate then asked him if he could identify the girl and he pointed to Polly.

'Now please tell the court what happened while you were driving her home.'

'She was all over me like a rash, sir. She said she'd just had it off with Sir Walter in his office an' he hadn't been able to give her enough and she wanted me to finish the job.'

'So what happened?'

'So I gave 'er one down a dark alley, sir, an' I couldn't give 'er enough neither. She were like a wild animal.'

'When you say "you gave her one", what do you mean?'

'Well, Jeez, wadda yer think I mean? I screwed 'er. I can't use that other word, can I, what everyone uses?'

'No. That won't be necessary, Thompson. I think the court knows what you mean.'

'Me missus won't find out about it, will she?'

Applegate gave a little smile.

'Only if you tell her, Thompson.'

'Shit no! I mean... Sorry, sir, it just slipped out. If me missus found out, sir, she'd wait till I was sleepin' an' cut 'em off.'

'Thank you, Thompson. Please answer any questions.'

Senior Constable Meder rose to his feet again.

'Mr Thompson, in your evidence you mentioned the Whaler's Arms Hotel. Do you know that area quite well?'

'Yes, sir. I live not far from there.'

'How long have you worked as liveryman for Sir Walter?'

'About four years now.'

'And before that?'

'I worked in the printery for about two years.'

'Why did you change?'

'It was a better job.'

'Was it better pay?'

'Yes, sir.'

'And sometimes a little extra too?'

'Yes. Sometimes.'

'Quite important I guess, for a struggling family man?'

'Yes.'

'Was your knowledge of certain parts of the city a reason for Sir Walter choosing you for the position?'

'It could've been... You'd 'ave to ask him.'

'Well, yes, but right now I'm asking you. Was your knowledge of the Whaler's Arms area a factor in you getting the position as liveryman?'

'It could've been.'

'In your evidence you mentioned two occasions when you drove the carriage to the Whaler's Arms area. Now I'd like you to tell the court about the occasion before that.'

'Oh... I'd 'ave to think. There's too many times to remember.'

'That's not the area where Sir Walter lives, is it?'

'No, sir.'
'So why would he go there?'

Thompson gave a faint smile.

'Oh, you'd 'ave to ask him that?'

'I'm asking you.'

'I don't know.'

'Come now, Thompson. Didn't you tell your friends that you got the job as liveryman because of your knowledge of the area and your ability to organize young ladies for Sir Walter?'

'If I'd said anything like that it would 'ave been a lie.'

'And is your evidence about having intercourse with the complainant another of your lies, Thompson?'

Chapter 89

Anne McKean

As Thompson hurried from the building Applegate called his last witness.

'Please state your full name and occupation for the court.'

'Anne Muriel McKean, entertainment house proprietor.'

Sir Sebastian peered over his spectacles again.

'Would you please explain to me, McKean, what an entertainment house proprietor is?'

'Sure, your honor. It's a place where lonely folks can meet an' socialize in a large parlor, or private rooms. You'd be most welcome, sir, to call an' see fer yourself.'

'I don't think that will be necessary, McKean. What we're really talking about here is a brothel, is it not?'

'Oh, no, sir. We consider ourselves a cut above that. Mind you, we can't say what happens behind closed doors, can we?'

Sir Sebastian shook his head in disbelief.

'Please proceed, Mr Applegate.'

'Are you acquainted with the complainant in this case, Polly Winifred Asker?'

'She lives opposite.'

'You mean opposite your house of entertainment?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Please tell the court what kind of neighbor she is.'

'Well, she never gives no trouble, sir, if that's what yer means. But she's always got lots of men callin', yer know what I mean?'

'Are you saying she's a prostitute?'

'That's about the gist of it. Yeah, she's a pro an' I don't want nothin' to do with that.'

'That will be all Mrs. McKean,' Applegate said. 'Please answer any questions.'

'I'm interested in your statement about the complainant being a prostitute. Please tell the court how you know she is a prostitute?' Meder asked.

'Well she is. Everyone knows it. It's what you'd call common knowledge. Ain't that good enough?'

'Well, quite frankly, no, it's not good enough. You need to tell the court exactly how it is that you know she is a prostitute. Please tell the court.'

She hesitated.

'We are waiting, Mrs. McKean. Have you seen her with your own eyes actually taking money and then having sexual intercourse with the person who paid her?'

'No. Not like that.'

'Then how?'

'Well...' McKean spread her hands in a helpless gesture.

'Mrs. McKean, you seem to want the court to believe you rather than Polly Asker. But why should the court believe you. Haven't you got a record for dishonesty?'

'I've been before the court. Yes.'

'Thank you, Mrs. McKean. That will be all.'

Chapter 90

The Verdict

When the court resumed the next morning the Askers were confident that Meder had handled the case well in spite of surprise defense witnesses and tactics. Meder seemed always to be one step ahead. But Sir Walter was an influential figure and, if convicted, at best they could expect him to be fined rather than imprisoned. At the end of his submissions, Meder however urged a lengthy term of imprisonment.

When Applegate spoke he compared the credibility of the prosecution witnesses to those from the defense side. Then he spent a considerable time comparing the complainant to his client, a man of remarkable character and an asset to the community, a man who had never previously appeared before a court.

Finally it was the turn of Sir Sebastian Starkie, to sum up for the jury. He took several minutes to analyze the case from a judge's position of neutrality. He outlined the law that applied to the case and what the jury should consider before reaching a verdict.

Then it was all over. The jury retired and Polly and her family and band of supporters waited for the verdict.

The public gallery of the courtroom had been almost empty, apart from the Askers, for most of the trial. But there was a man who had sat through most of it. The Askers had wondered who he was and why he was interested. With the jury and court officials gone he approached the family.

'You folks have put up a good case. But it may not be enough. The judge and the accused are members of the same club. I am also a member and I heard them talking when they thought they were alone. They are always at the club early on a Friday afternoon. They will be there tomorrow.'

Meder immediately thought about a mistrial. It was not over until the jury gave its verdict.

'Would you be prepared to give evidence?' Meder asked.

'No. I'm sorry. That would be too dangerous. I just thought you should know.'

Barely fifteen minutes after retiring the jury came back.

The foreman of the jury stood to deliver the verdict.

'We find the defendant not guilty.'

There was a gasp from the rear of the courtroom.

'No!' Polly screamed and burst into tears again.

Lizzie, Ruby and Rose tried to comfort her. Freddie leapt to his feet.

'It's a friggin' jack-up! A bloody kangaroo court! You'll pay for this, Glengyle!'

'Silence!' the judge barked.

'Up yer arse!' Freddie shouted back.

'Arrest that man for contempt!' Starkie bellowed.

Senior Constable Meder watched horrified as another constable led Freddie away in handcuffs. There was nothing he could do.'

When they were gone the gnome bounced to his feet again.

'If it pleases your honor, in view of the nature of the business in which my client is engaged, his competitors could destroy him and his business by publishing details of this case...'

'I understand entirely, Mr Applegate.' The judge turned towards the prosecutor. 'Any objections, Mr Meder?'

'I don't believe the defense has made a sufficient case for suppression and I oppose it.'

'Thank you, Mr Meder. I disagree. A suppression order is granted. The order is to be permanent and applies to all details and names and even to the fact that a trial has taken place. The court is now adjourned.'

Chapter 91

Another Generation

After his night in the cells, Freddie Asker was convinced that little had changed in the thirty years since he had last been a guest of Queen Victoria. Throughout the night and, from the noises that Freddie could hear, he was certain prisoners were being beaten almost to death. There were no beds in the small cell that Freddie shared with five other men and there was no food or drink provided in the sixteen hours that he stayed. His cough worsened during the long, cold night and he was shocked to see blood in his expectorant. When he arrived at court handcuffed to a policeman he was a wretched, stinking sight.

'Frederick Smythe Asker,' the clerk bellowed in his usual authoritative voice.

Asker stood quietly alongside the policeman while Sir Sebastian Starkie peered over his spectacles for a moment before returning to the newspaper that he had been reading.

'Well, Asker, do you have anything to say for yourself this morning?'

Freddie moved uncomfortably from one foot to the other and looked sheepishly at the floor.

'Speak up, Asker,' Starkie ordered in a harsh voice.

'I'm sorry, sir... Your honor... I know I done wrong yesterday. I was concerned for me lass. She's a good girl, your honor. Please don't send me to jail, sir, 'cause with the gallopin' consumption what I've got I ain't gonna last long. I'm truly sorry, your honor.'

The judge took several minutes before he looked up from his newspaper again. Then he held it up for the prisoner to see. It was that day's Sydney Daily Times.

'Do you read this newspaper, Asker?'

'No, your honor. I don't read too good, sir, and folks like me can't afford newspapers anyway.'

'Tut tut, Asker, everyone can afford a newspaper. No one is that poor. You should get a copy of this paper, Asker. Then you would see the folly of the ways of your family. This newspaper has a feature which details the entire history of your family and your ancestors since your grandfather came here with the First Fleet in 1788. It's a very well researched feature, too, I might add.'

The judge waited for a reaction from the prisoner but Freddie Asker gave away nothing of his true feelings. Inside he burned with rage while his face showed only the practiced poker face of the old gambler. He stared at the floor and waited for the judge to continue his holier-than-thou lecture, which would no doubt be followed by a lengthy term of imprisonment.

'It's all here, Asker,' Sir Sebastian continued. 'Murder, stealing, drunkenness, gambling, prostitution. Your grandfather, your father and you too, have all been in jail at one time or another. You have a son in jail now. Your grandmother and great grandmother were both prostitutes. It's all here. Is it any wonder that your daughter is a prostitute? How could you expect yesterday's jury to have any doubts about their verdict when they read today's newspaper? The Times wanted to run this feature during the trial but I forbade it because I'm a fair man, Asker.'

Freddie remained in the dock his face resembling a stunned mackerel. He was pleased that his family had not come to the court again to hear this scurrilous indictment. Starkie would pay for this.

Sir Sebastian laid the newspaper on the bench and peered over his glasses again.

'Yesterday's indiscretion was one of the most serious of its kind that I have ever had the misfortune to witness in a court. A six-month sentence with hard labor would have been an appropriate sentence, had you been a first offender. But you already have a very serious criminal record and I have no doubt that there have been other serious matters in which you have been involved. I feel obliged to consider that too. However, I'm a fair man and I'll take account of your poor health. I hereby sentence you to one year of imprisonment with hard labor but I'll make an unprecedented order to the effect that the sentence shall be suspended for one year. After that time you shall be a free man if you have not been back before the court for any other matter. Do you understand, Asker?'

'Yes, your honor. I won't be back.'

'Release the prisoner.'

As the constable released the handcuffs he whispered in Freddie's ear.

'Now get out of here you dirty scoundrel before I arrest you again for pissing in the cell.'

Freddie Asker left the court and hurried towards Caraher's Lane with a firm set to his jaw and a wild glare in his eyes. Several times people he knew crossed the street to avoid having to speak to him. That suited him fine. He was in no mood for them. The feature in the Sydney Daily Times had rendered his family outcasts, even in their own street. Driven by anger, he reached Caraher's Lane almost in a state of collapse.

'Oh, me poor Freddie!' Lizzie exclaimed when she saw him. 'Yer look all in. What on earth 'ave they done to yer?'

'Just the usual roughin' up an' nothin' to eat or drink. Wadda yer got?'

As he spoke he poured some cold tea from the teapot and broke a lump of bread from the loaf.

'Just sit right there an' I'll 'ave somethin' for yer afore yer can say Jack Robinson,' Lizzie said.

'How's the lass?'

'She ain't hardly stopped weepin' since she got home last night,' Lizzie said as she started making a sandwich and a fresh brew of tea.

Freddie took a mouthful of food and a long swig on his tea before hurrying through to the other room where Polly lay on a bed with her face to the wall. At first he thought she was asleep but suddenly she rolled over, threw her arms around him and broke down.

'I loves yer, pa, and I'm sorry that nasty judge sent yer to jail on account o' me.'

'It ain't yer fault, me lovely, an' as fer that judge, he's gonna get 'is come-uppance, or I ain't an Asker.'

'Yer can't do nothin', pa. They're too powerful for folks like us. Please don't do nothin'.'

Polly sat quietly for a time and seemed to be searching for the right words. Freddie understood how she felt and waited patiently for her to continue.

'I've been talkin' to Rose about things. Rose understands better than me, bein' a bit older an' all. I didn't want to tell yer until after we'd been to court because we had enough to think about, but now there's something I gotta tell you an' ma.'

She swung her legs off the bed and walked to the other room with Freddie following closely. When all three were seated together she drew in a deep breath. She wanted to stay calm and sound older and more mature than her fifteen years, but suddenly she was overcome with emotion again and blurted out her new revelation amid tears and choking sobs.

'I's goin' to have a baby an' its father's gonna be that horrible, horrible monster. No one else has ever done what he done.'

Chapter 92

Revenge

Freddie and Lizzie stared at each other in stone-faced horror. Immediately after the attack they had discussed the possibility of a pregnancy. But as time passed the possibility seemed to recede. Lizzie spoke first as she moved to embrace the distressed teenager.

'Yer pa an' me will always be here for yer, love. This will always be home, for you and yer baby. An' don't let folks put yer down, 'cause yer ain't never done nothin' wrong. Yer can hold yer head high, whatever folks might say.'

Freddie quietly paced back and forth in the small parlor for a few minutes before slipping quietly out of the room. While Lizzie and Polly talked in quiet tones they heard Freddie in the small back yard coughing up phlegm. Then he came back into the parlor and rummaged through some old boxes. They heard him eating the meal that Lizzie had prepared for him earlier. Later he came to sit alongside Polly.

'I've gotta be out for a while, me lovely. Now don't forget, whatever happens yer ma an' me loves yer.'

'Thanks pa. I loves yer too.'

Freddie Asker left the little house on Caraher's Lane and walked towards the Whaler's Arms, where he saw MacIntosh keeping his gossip's eye on the passing traffic. Their eyes met but neither man spoke as Freddie walked directly at him with his jaw set and his eyes blazing. At the last instant MacIntosh was forced to quickly step aside. He could see that on this day Asker was not a man to be trifled with.

`Several blocks further on, he went into the Drover's Rest Hotel, ordered ale and took a seat near a window with a view across the street. For over an hour he sat watching while his drink remained untouched. The building housed the Australian Gentlemen's Club. It was Friday and Asker was sure that his patience would soon be rewarded.

The first to enter the Australian was Sir Sebastian Starkie. Five minutes later a man that he recognized as the foreman of the jury entered the building after looking furtively along the street but ignoring the windows directly opposite. Freddie Asker continued to wait patiently. At six o'clock a grand carriage, drawn by two elegant horses, drew up at the entrance and the regal figure of Sir Walter Glengyle alighted and strode into the building.

Freddie waited several minutes more and then, leaving his ale still untouched, he crossed the street and entered the club.

Chapter 93

The Gentlemen's Club

'You can't go in, my man. Its members only,' the uniformed doorman said.

'I's been invited by Sir Walter Glengyle,' Freddie lied.

The doorman hesitated for a moment knowing that he should check with Sir Walter or at least escort him to the member. Then, on impulse, he let him through with a wave of his hand. As Freddie entered the huge lounge he saw a waiter with his back to him serving drinks to Glengyle, Starkie and the juror. Other members sat at other tables but he noticed an empty table quite close to the trio and he slipped into a seat at that table. As the waiter moved away Sir Sebastian spoke confidentially.

'Well, Walt, my old friend, I did tell you, didn't I, that you had nothing to worry about.'

'Yes, you did, Seb, and I'm most grateful to you.' Sir Walter reached inside his coat pocket and passed an envelope to the judge.

'Thank you, Walt. If the colonial powers set a decent stipend for judges we wouldn't have to resort to this. It would be nicer if we could just do things for our friends without having to be paid.'

'Likewise for jurors,' the juror said. 'And the foreman has to be nominated by other jurors.'

'Exactly,' Sir Walter agreed as he reached inside his coat pocket again and extracted three more envelopes. 'This is your one, Hickey and these are for Godfrey and Allsopp for supporting you.'

The foreman reached eagerly for the envelopes and placed them quickly inside his pocket.

'Thank you, Sir Walter. I'll see that they get them.'

'Well drink up gentlemen, and I'll order another round,' Sir Walter announced with a generous sweep of his big hand.

Still unseen by the trio, Freddie Asker got quietly to his feet and approached their table. He spoke slowly and coldly.

'That's right, gentlemen. Drink yer last friggin' drink before I blow yer friggin' brains out.'

He brandished the revolver that he had last used on Will Bethune a lifetime ago. For a moment they stared in disbelief. The foreman was the younger and fitter man of the three. He had to go first. His eyes were wide open in shock as he grasped his shoulder and slumped to the floor.

The judge and the publisher sat on opposite sides of the table and stared in horror as Asker took up a position which allowed him to cover them both without getting too close.

'Yer wanted a great story for yer shit'ouse newspaper didn't yer? Well here it is,' Asker said coldly and he pulled the trigger a second time.

With eyes wide open and staring in horror, Sir Walter Bannock Kirkton Glengyle rolled slowly backwards with blood spurting from his chest. He tried to stop himself with a hand on the table but only succeeded in farting loudly, shitting his immaculate suit and writhing on the floor for a few seconds before lying still.

'That maggot won't never rape nobody again,' Asker said, struggling to stay calm as he turned to the judge. 'Now for some real justice!'

The judge leaned back in his seat and raised his hands above his head in a gesture of surrender.

'Don't shoot, Mr Asker. Don't shoot, please. I can explain everything.'

'Explain it to yer maker, arsehole.'

Before the judge could answer, another shot rang through the venerable halls of the Australian Gentlemen's Club and Sir Sebastian Starkie entered into litigation with his maker.

The two gentlemen who had observed the slaughter from a nearby table quickly melted into the background while others rushed into the lounge to see what all the commotion was about. Freddie Asker quickly retrieved the envelopes from the bodies of the judge and foreman and stunned members stepped obediently aside for him as he made for the door. The waiter, forgetting the usual gentlemen's club decorum, reverted to the slang of the lanes where he lived.

'Yer done good, mate. Them bastards has been stitchin' folks up for years. Run for yer life, mate.'

Freddie Asker was passed running. Given his deteriorating health, a sleepless night in the police cells, a beating and no sustenance, he was near the end of his physical stamina. Clutching the envelopes in one hand and the revolver in the other, he accosted Matthew Thompson, waiting patiently for his employer to leave the club.

'I know what yer told the court, Thompson.' Asker leveled the gun as he spoke. 'Take me to Caraher's Lane an' I'll consider lettin' yer off with yer life.'

Thompson tried to stall for time.

'What about Sir Walter?'

'Yer don't 'ave to worry about that maggot no more. He's dead. I shot 'im with this an' there's still three shots left.'

Asker climbed into the carriage and Thompson could see that he had no alternative but to obey orders. As the horses trotted through the streets and lanes, Asker tore open the envelopes and counted £50 for the judge, ten for the foreman and five each for the other two jurors. In Caraher's Lane he ordered Thompson to stop at the Asker house.

'Wait 'ere. If yer try to run for it, I'll change me mind an' blow yer brains out. After yer lies in court yer deserve it anyway.'

Freddie Asker knew that he ran a grave risk, returning to his house, but he wanted to give the £70 to Lizzie. It was a small fortune. As for him, he could go bush for what time he had left.

'Keep this outta sight an' spend it wisely. It'll last yer a long time if yer be careful,' he told Lizzie.

'Where did yer get so much money? Yer been gamblin' again, Freddie Asker?'

'It's the money what Glengyle paid to the judge, and the crooked jury. How else do yer think 'e got away with it?'

'But how did yer get it?'

'Easy, me lovely an' they won't be needin' it no more.'

Lizzie stared at him in horror.

'Freddie, you haven't...?'

'Say nothin' to nobody. You ain't seen me. Understand?'

Outside they could hear the sound of galloping horses. It was Freddie's turn to panic. He had not reckoned on the swiftness of Alexander Graham Bell's new telephonic apparatus which had recently been installed in a number of Sydney buildings, including the Australian Gentlemen's Club and the police station via the city's first telephonic office.

'I'll be goin' now, me love. Take care. I loves yer all.'

Freddie Asker raced out the door and straight into the arms of the law. Senior Constable Albert Norman and Constable Charles Paine were upon him in an instant, throwing him to the ground and fastening his hands behind his back before searching him for a weapon.

'I ain't armed anymore. I'm givin' me self up.'

He was answered with a savage kick in the ribs.

'Get up, Asker!' Norman barked at him.

Freddie sat up and coughed blood.

'I said get up!'

Norman kicked him again. Then the two constables dragged him to his feet and threw his emaciated frame across one of the horses.

'Think yerself lucky, Asker,' Paine said as he lashed him to the saddle. 'As a murderer we could have shot you on sight but we decided to be generous and allow yer a fair trial.'

'I know all about fair trials, mate. As for generous, yer wouldn't gimme the steam off yer piss in a winter freeze.'

Chapter 94

Freddie's Old Mate

Freddie's condition continued to deteriorate as he was given very little to eat or drink. He wondered why his family had not been to see him. On his fourth day in custody, he got a visit from Toby Barton. He cut an impressive figure. He was about the same height as Freddie but much heavier. His wavy hair was starting to turn grey and he had an unforgettable sparkle in his eyes.

'I'm going to try to get you moved to a hospital, Freddie. That's my first priority and then I'm going to get you the best criminal lawyer available.'

'I ain't got no money for no lawyer, Toby. Anyway I'm a dead man. It's a race between galloping consumption an' the hangman. That's how come I was able to do it. I knew I was gonna die soon whatever happened.'

'No, Freddie. Don't give up. Do you remember when you taught me to be a prize-fighter?'

'Yeah, but we was only kids then. Our lives are different as chalk an' cheese now.'

'That doesn't matter. I want to help you now with your fight.'

'How did yer know I was here?'

'It's plastered over every newspaper in the colony and every man and his dog is talking about you. They're saying that you're Ned Kelly reincarnated. You're a hero to some folk, a scoundrel to others. Whatever people believe, you have to be entitled to a fair trial. The Sydney Daily Times has really got it in for you. Young Dudley Glengyle has taken over and he's using the paper to bay for your neck. It appears to me to be undue influence and that makes it a possibility for a mistrial.'

'As I said, Toby, me old mate, I ain't got money for no lawyer an' I'm gonna die anyway.'

'You'll have a chance if I can get you moved to a hospital.'

Freddie looked around at the crowded, vile smelling cell.

'I has to admit a hospital couldn't be any worse than this hole. Why can't you be me lawyer?'

'I was never a criminal lawyer, Freddie. I was a commercial lawyer and I've forgotten a good bit of that now.'

'Yer remember Katterns the blacksmith?' Freddie asked.

'Yes. I remember well. There was Horace and his son Harold.'

'Yeah, an' there was Horace's father too, Hector, who employed my grandfather. Anyhow, Harold understands politics an' things an' he tells me you're tryin' to get all the colonies to join together to make something called a federation. How's that gonna work?'

'We believe it will work very well. You see there would be one government for the whole of Australia, Tasmania and New Zealand. Everyone would benefit and there would be a free flow of goods and people, no more border taxes to pay and even standard gauge railways connecting the main cities. It's going to be really marvelous, Freddie.'

Freddie was silent for a moment and then he smiled.

'Yer sound pretty impressive when yer get on yer soapbox.'

'I suppose I do. It's my favorite subject.'

'Will people be votin' for this federation thing?'

'Oh, yes. There will be voting in every colony.'

'In that case it would be worth getting' out o' here just so's I can vote for yer an' the sooner the better 'cause I ain't gonna be able to vote for no bastard soon.'

'That's enough of that talk, Freddie. You're not dead yet and I'm going to get you to a hospital as well as getting the best lawyer for you. It's the least I can do for an old mate.'

'Yer can't save me life for me.'

'If I can't, then I'd like to try and save your reputation. Your family deserves that.'

'I can't pay,' Freddie insisted again.

'Let me worry about that.'

Freddie was silent again for a long time. He looked at the floor and slowly the tears came to his eyes. Then he went into a coughing fit and Barton put his arm around him. He made no move to draw away as Freddie's phlegm and blood splattered his immaculate suit.

'Wish I knew why Lizzie an' the kids ain't been to see me. I miss them so much,' Asker said when he got his breath back.

'They're not allowed. You're barred from having visitors. They tried to stop me too. It's because they allege that you killed a judge and a policeman.'

'They really are a pack o' bastards, aren't they?'

'I have to agree. One of my colleagues will come to see you soon but I'm going to be away on federation business for quite some time. So good luck, old mate.'

'Thanks, me ol' mate, an' good luck with the federation.'

Barton called for the guard to let him out.

'Pity our lives went different ways all these years, Freddie. We were good pals.'

'Yeah, mate. But don't feel sorry for me. I killed a crooked judge and a swindlin' child rapist and I'm proud o' that 'cause they can't never hurt nobody again.'

'Good on you, Freddie. But don't ever say that in court.'

'See yer, mate.'

'So long, Freddie.'

Chapter 95

Freddie's Trial

Before leaving Sydney, Barton appointed a former colleague, Miles Whatman, to represent Freddie. Whatman was a prominent and, often controversial defense lawyer who, like Barton, was also a member of the New South Wales Legislative Council.

Presiding over the trial was Sir Thomas Robb, a cousin and close friend of the murdered judge, an alcoholic and a long time adversary of Whatman.

The clerk of the court read the charges.

'Frederick Smythe Asker, you are charged that on the tenth day of June eighteen-eighty, at Sydney, you did murder Michael Patrick Hickey, Walter Bannock Kirkton Glengyle and Sebastian Alfred Starkie. How do you plead?'

'Not guilty, your honor.'

The prosecutor, Martin Fell, called two businessmen who had witnessed the slaughter at the Australian Gentlemen's Club. They each gave their accounts of how Asker shot the foreman of the jury, then Sir Walter Glengyle and Sir Sebastian Starkie. Matthew Thompson testified that he had driven the accused from the Club to Caraher's Lane at the point of a gun. He also told the court that he witnessed Asker resisting arrest in Caraher's Lane and that the two policemen had a struggle to apprehend him. He identified the accused man as the person he had seen. It was a clear-cut case.

Miles Whatman, a tall athletic man with a receding hairline, opened the case for the defense with a statement to the effect that his client admitted carrying out the triple killings, an action Asker deeply regretted, but had pleaded not guilty on the grounds of temporary insanity.

As Asker took the stand to give his evidence he could feel the eyes of all twelve jurors boring right through him. He knew that to them he would appear as a wretched, pathetic man. His clothes hung from his bony frame like rags on a scarecrow. Two burly policemen held him as though restraining a wild animal, suggesting to the jurors that havoc would be created in the courtroom if they relaxed their hold on such a violent desperado. At the back of the courtroom his mother, Ruby, was there to support him with Lizzie and most of his children. Polly was there, heavy with child and next to her sat his grandmother, Mary Smythe, with Rose Petchell, Ellen Wilkinson and Cedric Hill. Dudley Glengyle and his wife sat quietly on the other side of the courtroom.

Chapter 96

Freddie's Evidence

Whatman led Asker through an account of his life from his earliest memories and the death of his father in the Patrick's Plains stampede when Freddie was four years old. He asked him about the effect that his father's death had had on his own life. Then he asked him about being jailed for seven years from the age of eight.

'Did you receive any schooling from the authorities while you were in jail?'

'No, sir.'

'Did you ever get sick while you were in jail?'

'Most times, sir.'

'What kind of sickness?'

'Consumption, sir.'

'Did you receive any treatment for that?'

'Yes, sir.'

Whatman looked surprised.

'Oh. What kind of treatment?'

Freddie Asker grinned ironically.

'Floggin', sir, when I couldn't keep up with the men.'

'Did you eventually recover?'

'Yer mean from the consumption, or the floggin'?'

'Well, from both. Did you recover?'

'Eventually I just seemed to just grow outta the consumption. But the other don't never leave yer, sir.'

'Do you ever show people the marks on your back?'

'No, sir. Never.'

'Why not?'

'Shame, sir. An' they make folks sick.'

'But you are prepared to bare your back for the jury?'

'Yes, sir.'

'That won't be necessary, Mr Whatman!' Sir Thomas Robb bellowed from the bench. 'The prisoner will remain clothed.'

With a policeman holding Asker on each side he had little chance of unbuttoning or raising his shirt, but Whatman, having made his point, moved on.

'Are you able to tell the court what your ailment is now?'

'Consumption.'

'Are you going to recover?'

'No, sir, I ain't. I'm gonna die this time.'

'Now I'd like to ask you about your life after you were released from jail. Did you then go to work?'

'Yeah. First I worked at a forge.'

'Have you done other work?'

'Yes, sir. I went to the goldfields. The money at the forge was pretty lousy but there wasn't much I could do what was honest. So I went to the goldfields in fifty-one to help me ma get me brother an' sister through school.'

'Why did you do that?'

'So's they'd 'ave a better chance in life than what I'd had.'

'Where are your brother and sister now?'

'One's in England teachin' school an' the other's in America doin' the same.'

'Was there an important change that took place in your life at that time?'

'I met me missus an' we started a family, sir.'

'How many children have you had?'

'Twelve, sir. Eight boys an' four girls. Ten are still alive an' eight of them are still at home.'

'Tell me about your house.'

'Not much to tell, sir. We live's in Caraher's Lane an' it's got two rooms.'

'Is that two rooms as well as a parlor and a kitchen?'

'No, sir. A kitchen and a bedroom.'

'Do you own the property?'

'No, sir.'

'How many of your children have attended school?'

'All of them – except the ones what died – they was too young to go to school.'

Whatman cast a quick glance in the direction of the jury. They appeared to be hanging on every word.

'When your daughter, Polly, disappeared was that reported to the police?'

'Yes, sir.'

'And what did the police do?'

'Nothing, sir.'

'Did the lack of police action upset you as well as the fact that your daughter was missing?'

'I was almost outta me mind, sir.'

'However Polly was eventually found, was she not?'

'Yes, sir.'

'What had happened to her?'

'She was beaten an' raped.'

Martin Fell rose quickly to his feet.

'Your honor, my learned friend is attempting to turn rumor into fact by having his client speculate on matters on which he was not a first hand witness.'

'I agree, Mr Fell. The accused must confine his evidence to matters that he saw only with his own eyes. The court is not interested in what the accused may have been told by others.'

Whatman listened patiently to the comments of Fell and the judge. Then he pressed on.

'As it pleases your honor. Mr Asker did you see your daughter immediately after she was found?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Now I don't want you to tell me what she said to you, but I would like to ask you if she told you what had happened to her. Did she tell you?'

'Yes, sir. She did.'

'After your daughter was found did you observe her physical and emotional condition?'

Fell leapt to his feet again.

'Your honor, my learned friend is attempting to obtain an expert opinion from a lay person.'

'I agree, Mr Fell. Mr Whatman?'

'With respect, your honor, there were no experts available when Miss Asker was found. Remember the authorities refused to become involved until some days later and I just want to ask the accused what he observed with his own eyes as a parent.'

'Very well, Mr Whatman.' Sir Thomas Robb struggled to hide his sarcasm.

'Mr Asker, please tell the court about the physical and emotional condition of your daughter when you first saw her.'

'She looked ghastly, sir. She was covered in cuts and bruises. She had black eyes and there was matted blood in 'er hair. She was scared almost to death. I had no doubt she'd been beaten up, sir.'

Martin Fell objected again.

'Your honor, the accused is trying to pass himself off as an expert.'

Sir Thomas Robb opened his mouth to speak at the same time as Freddie Asker.

'Well I ain't been to no university, if that's what yer mean, but I've seen plenty o' fights an' seen plenty o' bruised an' battered bodies. I've been a prize-fighter, an' seen fights on the goldfields an' in gamblin' dens an' in Darlinghurst jail. I am an expert on violence 'cause I've seen more bruised folks than you've 'ad Sunday dinners.'

'I don't doubt what you are saying, Asker, but that does not make you an expert witness for the purpose of giving evidence,' Sir Thomas Robb retorted when he was able to speak.

Whatman was determined to score his point.

'With respect, your honor, I think my client is able to recognize blood when he sees it. If the prosecution thinks that what my client saw was not blood then they should have produced their own expert witness to testify that the substance that my client saw was something other than blood. Otherwise I urge the court to accept what he says, namely that when his daughter was found she had cuts, bruises, black eyes and matted blood on her hair.'

'Very well, Mr Whatman, but you're treading on very thin ice.'

Whatman turned his attention back to his client.

'As I mentioned, Mr Asker, I don't want you to tell me what someone else may have told you. However, if as a result of what you have seen and been told, you then formed an opinion about what had happened to your daughter, I'd like you to tell me what that opinion was.'

'It was bloody obvious... I mean... she had been tricked into giving up 'er job at the clothing factory an' then abducted by 'er new boss. He bashed, an' raped her an' left her to die.'

Sir Thomas Robb leaned forward across the bench and he seemed to have difficulty containing himself.

Whatman pressed on.

'Do you have any doubt in your mind who carried out the vicious crime against your daughter?'

'None, sir.'

'The accused will ignore that question. Unless you actually saw an assault or rape taking place you cannot say that. You did not see that happening, did you Asker?'

'It were Glengyle what done it. It was obvious at 'is trial an' a blind man coulda seen it, your honor.'

'How would you know what a blind man can see?' Robb raved. 'You can't make such statements. The poor man isn't here to defend himself.'

'To start with, he weren't no poor man,' Asker shot back at the judge. 'This ain't about Glengyle defendin' his self. It's about me bein' given a chance to defend me family.'

'Control yourself, Asker, or I'll bring in a verdict now!' the judge roared.

Whatman turned to face the judge.

'May I suggest a short adjournment, your honor?'

Sir Thomas Robb glared at his old adversary.

'The court will resume at eleven o'clock.'

Chapter 97

Confrontation

When the court resumed only the lawyers and a select number of other people would have known that the judge had fortified himself with an additional nip or two of brandy. The trial resumed in a more peaceful manner.

'How old was your daughter at the time of the rape, Mr Asker?'

'Fifteen, sir, an' innocent as a fresh snow-flake. She'll never be the same again.'

'Please tell me about the Glengyle trial.'

'It was a farce, sir. He had 'is mates giving evidence, 'is mates on the jury an' 'is best mate was the judge. It was all lies an' the judge let them get away with it. When I'd 'ad as much as I could take I let that judge know what I thought...'

Sir Thomas Robb interrupted him.

'Asker, you seem to lack respect for the court. Your manner is insolent and belligerent and I warn you that unless you behave yourself I will call the trial to a close and bring in an immediate verdict. I can't imagine the jury having much sympathy for you...'

'Your honor,' Whatman interrupted Sir Thomas. 'My client is entitled to a full and fair trial. He is here on trial for his life and I respectfully request that you withdraw your remarks about an early end to the trial and about the jury having no sympathy for him. I should hardly need to remind you, your honor, the jury must first hear all the evidence and then make their own decision without any undue influence from any party.'

Sir Thomas Robb and Miles Whatman glowered at each other across the courtroom. Finally the judge broke the silence.

'You were saying, Mr Whatman?'

'No, sir. You were saying. My last statement was my final word on your conduct.'

The two continued to glower at each other while the jurors' eyes darted from one to the other.

'Are you threatening me, Whatman?'

Whatman ignored the question and turned to Freddie Asker again.

'Did you think your daughter got a fair hearing when she gave her evidence at court?'

'No, sir.'

'Did you try to do something about that?'

'Yes, sir. I told the judge it weren't good enough.'

'Did that make any difference?'

'No, sir.'

'You must have found that extremely frustrating?'

'I was outta me mind. I ain't never been more pissed off in me life... I mean...'

'That's it!' Sir Thomas boomed. 'I'm going to discharge the jury and bring in my own verdict. The prisoner has been warned repeatedly to moderate his tongue and I'm not going to waste any more time on this unspeakably vile animal.'

Whatman spun quickly to face his arch-enemy.

'You can't do that! I'm moving for a mistrial and I'll be petitioning the Governor for your dismissal from the bench.'

As he spoke, Whatman gathered up his papers and law books in readiness to walk out. The jury members' eyes darted back and forth between the two legal combatants.

Whatman held the judge in a steely glare as he slowly turned towards Asker.

'As you were saying before we were interrupted, Mr Asker...'

Freddie Asker looked from one to the other in a moment of confusion before starting to speak.

'As I was saying... How else can I say what I feel?' Asker held the judge's eyes steadily as he spoke slowly and deliberately. 'When I think about this trial, the shoddy treatment o' me lass, the bribery, me wasted years in Darlinghurst, it's no wonder I'm pissed off! More folks should get pissed off. I ain't got nothin' to lose now by sayin' it. How much is a family man expected t' take before 'e loses 'is marbles?'

Freddie Asker's tirade was halted for a moment by one of his coughing bouts.

'That judge in the Glengyle trial was corrupt and I can prove it. I caught him takin' a bribe when I walked into the Australian Gentlemen's Club. You're 'is cousin an' 'is best mate, an' like 'im, you're as bent as a friggin' fish'ook otherwise yer wouldn't 'ave taken this case. What I'm tellin' yer is I won't be silenced until I be hung. Me little lass was abducted, beaten an' raped by yer rotter of a cousin posin' as a gentleman. An' you wanna judge me. He left 'er with child and if that weren't enough 'e rigged, judge, an' jury to make 'er the scoundrel. Any decent father would be pissed off. An' is it any wonder I done me friggin' block? No man could 'ave kept 'is marbles after that. I blew me buttons completely an' good job I did. Best days work I ever done when I went to the gentlemen's club an' caught 'em red-handed takin' bribes. Pissed off? I was outta me mind!'

When Freddie Asker finished ranting the courtroom was deathly quiet for a few seconds until he started another bout of coughing. He almost sagged exhausted to his knees and the policeman on each side hauled him back to his feet again.

'Stand to attention!' Constable Paine barked at him.

'Piss off!'

A sharp elbow jolt in the ribs, unseen by many, sent him reeling again.

Miles Whatman studied the faces of the jurors for a moment before turning to Martin Fell.

'Your witness, my learned friend.'

As Fell prepared to question Asker the judge banged his gavel on the bench, announced the luncheon adjournment and hurried towards his chambers and the brandy bottle.

Chapter 98

The Cross Examination

When the court resumed again, Freddie Asker's coughing fit was the only thing that the jury could hear and Martin Fell condescendingly allowed the prisoner a few moments to compose himself before starting his cross-examination. His tone was a complete surprise to Asker.

'I'm impressed with your evidence about how you've always been a hard-working man who cares about his family and fellow men. Is that what I should understand from your evidence?'

'Yes, sir, and thank you. I always try to do me best.'

'Is that the truth?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Really? I'd heard so much about you that seemed to be quite different. So, if you don't mind, I'd like to ask you some questions, which should clear up any misunderstandings. Do you mind?'

'Ask me anything yer like.'

'Thank you. You told the court that you worked on the goldfields. How long did you work on the goldfields?'

'Two or three years.'

'How many goldfields did you work at?'

'About three.'

'Would you name them please?'

'Lambing Flat, Araluen and Turon River.'

'Hill End?'

'Oh, yes. Hill End too.'

'That's more than three, isn't it?'

'Maybe.'

'What about Gulgong and Beechworth?'

'I dunno. It's a long time ago an' I can't remember.'

'I find this just a bit puzzling. You worked at the goldfields for two or three years, you worked at about eight different goldfields and you must have spent many weeks or months traveling between them. That does not leave very long at each goldfield, does it?'

'You're telling the story.'

Freddie tried not to show his shock at discovering Fell knew so much about his earlier life.

'Did you know a man called John Hammond?'

Asker stared in shock at the prosecutor. He had to think carefully.

'Answer the question, Asker,' Sir Thomas Robb growled.

'I'm thinkin', sir.'

'Perhaps I can help you remember,' Fell prompted. 'Most people knew him as Joker Hammond. Did you know him?'

'Yes, sir. I think I could 'ave known of 'im.'

'Are you saying that you only knew him slightly?'

'I think so.'

'I want you to tell the court where you first met Hammond.'

'Sydney, I think.'

'Can you be more precise? Was it in Darlinghurst prison?'

Asker looked at the floor for a moment while he thought about his predicament. He was a cunning bastard, this prosecutor.

'Speak up my man. Where did you meet him?'

'Darlinghurst jail, sir.'

'Thank you, Asker. Now if you had just told me that when I first asked you could have saved the court a lot of time, couldn't you?'

Freddie stared at the prosecutor and ignored his last question.

'Well?' Fell said at length.

'Well what?'

'Well couldn't you have saved the court some time by just answering the questions honestly and fully when they are first put to you. Well?'

A flicker of a smile swept across the accused man's wretched face.

'I don't think so. Yer see you're the one what's askin' all the questions what 'ave nothin' to do with the case. It's you what's wastin' the court's time. Don't blame me.'

Whatman rose to make the same point for his client.

'I agree, your honor. This line is irrelevant.'

'Now you listen here, the pair of you,' the judge bellowed while casting his eye from defendant to defense lawyer and back again. 'I'll have no more of that insolence in my court. When the learned gentleman asks a question I expect a truthful and courteous answer. Do you understand, Asker?'

'I would if yer mate knew how t' ask a learned question.'

The judge sighed in exasperation. His face reddened, his eyes bulged. Freddie could see his knuckles turning white as he gripped the bench. It was time to make his point.

'Yer could just murder me, couldn't yer, judge?' Freddie smiled.

'Yes! You are the most insolent criminal...'

'Now yer should understand if a man is driven far enough, he'll stop at nothing. And you ain't suffered nothin' yet compared with the shit I've been through. See what I mean?'

Chapter 99

A Difficult Defendant

Still fuming Sir Thomas Robb turned to the prosecutor.

'Mr Fell, please continue and try to keep to the point.'

'As it pleases your honor. When you were in Darlinghurst jail, and you met Hammond, did he teach you how to fight and cheat at cards?'

'Sure. Would yer like a demonstration?'

Sir Thomas Robb's patience had run out and he thumped his gavel angrily on the bench again.

'How much more of this do I have to suffer?'

'Ask him. I'm only trying to help yer, sir.'

'Silence, Asker!' Sir Thomas bellowed. 'Just answer the question without adding your own insolent comments. Just answer the question, the whole question and nothing but the question. Do you understand?'

'Jesus! That's a hard one. Me mouth just wants to keep goin', your honor.'

'Mr Fell, please continue and do your best to get some sense out of the accused, please.'

'As it pleases your honor,' Fell responded as he considered a new approach. 'Mr Asker, I know that, although you may be an uneducated man, you are nevertheless an intelligent and reasonable man and I'm going to give you...'

'Thank you, sir,' Freddie cut in quickly, 'an' I'd say the same about you if I weren't on oath.'

Fell's jaw dropped at the audacity of Asker's interjection while several jurors struggled to conceal their mirth and Sir Thomas Robb shook his head in disbelief.

'Actually, I wanted to be a lawyer me self, sir,' Freddie continued.

'Oh, indeed. It's an honorable profession, Asker. What happened?'

Again there was a flicker of a smile on Asker's face.

'I found out that me ma an' pa was married, sir.'

The jury box rocked with uncontrolled mirth.

But Fell's expression remained unchanged as he pressed on with his questioning.

'Later, after you left jail you went to the goldfields and met up with Hammond, didn't you?'

'I've already answered that question, sir.'

'So it seems that you do have a good memory. However I'd like you to answer again for the benefit of the jury. They may not be able to remember things as clearly as you. Did you meet up with Hammond on the goldfields?'

'Oh, I get it. You can't remember my answer. The answer was yes.'

'Thank you for reminding me, Mr Asker. Now please tell the court about your association with Hammond. Did you work as a gambling team?'

'Now that is hard to remember. It's thirty-something years since we was there but I don't forget things that was said five minutes ago.'

'But you would no doubt remember important events, wouldn't you?'

'I dunno. Try me.'

'Do you remember the names Harkness and Keesing?'

Freddie looked at the floor for a moment.

'No, sir.'

'Do you remember killing two men in cold blood at the Bathurst field in 1851?'

Suddenly Whatman was on his feet.

'Your honor, my client is on trial for the murder of Glengyle, Starkie and Hickey. He is not on trial for any other crime and any evidence, or allegation, regarding any other alleged crime is inadmissible and irrelevant.'

'It's going to be admissible in my court, Mr Whatman. Please continue, Mr Fell.'

Whatman stood his ground.

'With respect, your honor, I seek leave to appeal.'

'Certainly, Mr Whatman. Some other time. Continue, Mr Fell.'

Fell repeated his question to Freddie Asker.

'I'll never forget that. They tried to kill me, because I'd struck gold an' they hadn't.'

'Of course you remember them because you shot them in cold blood when they caught you cheating at cards. That's what happened, isn't it?'

'No, sir. I never played them at cards.'

'Why did you lie when I asked if you knew Harkness and Keesing?'

'It wasn't a lie. I never knew their names until you told me just now.'

'How could a man who kills in cold blood, without bothering to find out the names of his victims, expect a jury to be sympathetic to him when he comes before them for, not a double murder, but a triple murder?'

'It was self-defense.'

'Oh, I see. What about the other murders?'

Freddie Asker realized that Fell had come well prepared. He was a cunning bastard. There was little chance that the jury would find in his favor. He would almost certainly be hanged.

'What other murders?'

'How many people have you killed, Asker?'

'I don't know, sir.'

'You don't know?' Fell asked with astonishment as he turned to the jury.

'Right. When someone tries to kill you an' yer outnumbered, you don't stop to get names, or ask them if they're still alive. Yer get the hell outta there.'

'I don't understand your answer, Asker. Didn't you shoot dead a lone man near Lithgow?'

'Yeah. Only cos 'e tried to kill me.'

'So which killing were you talking about when you said you were outnumbered?'

Shit! He's a cunning bastard all right. I'd like to knock 'is friggin block off, Freddie told himself while he tried to think of a way out of the new predicament.

'That was at Beechworth, sir. I went there to search for gold and ran into a wild mob what was getting' ready to lynch me ol' mate, Joker Hammond. I thought they was goin' a bit far an' decided to rescue 'im.'

'Did I hear you say "your old mate"?'

'Yeah, sure.'

'So when you told the court that you'd only heard of Hammond and didn't really know him, was that a lie?'

'A man has a right to protect a mate.'

'Did you lie to the court, Asker?'

'No, sir. You see I only decided 'e was me best mate when I wanted to rescue him. Yer see I didn't like the look o' the mob that was about to string 'im up.'

'Did you lie to the court?'

'How come yer can't understand me answer?'

The booming voice of Sir Thomas Robb filled the courtroom again.

'Did you lie to the court, Asker?'

'Yer must know me by now, your honor. I would never re-arrange even the smallest truth, sir.'

The judge leaned over the bench and glared at Asker.

'Lying to the court is a very serious offence, Asker. Any further instances and I'm going to order the hangman to re-arrange your scruffy little neck. Do you understand?'

'So is yer gonna hang me twice then? I won't mind at all if yer can make the first hangin' as painless as the second.'

'Enough, Asker!' Sir Thomas roared.

Chapter 100

Skeletons in the Cupboard

Martin Fell gave a little cough to remind the court that he was waiting to continue his cross-examination.

'Turning to the Lithgow murder again. You said it was self-defense. Were there any witnesses?'

'There weren't no one else there. It was just the two of us.'

'Really! How amazingly convenient for you. So, because there was no one else there you didn't have to flee the scene of the crime, and you were able to ascertain the identity of the victim. Is that what happened?'

'More or less. But I knew who he was before we fired.'

'Really! Who was he?'

'Will Bethune.'

'You mean Will Bethune the notorious bushranger?'

'Yes, sir.'

'How many shots were fired?'

'Two.'

'I suppose you are going to claim that you shot him in a gun duel in which you both fired at precisely the same instant but your shot was more accurate than his?'

'Yes, sir.'

'That's really quite astounding. How old were you at the time?'

'About fourteen.'

'Remarkable! So you want the court to believe that, when you were fourteen, you were such an accomplished marksman with a gun that you were able to win a gun duel with one of the colony's most notorious killers. Is that what you want the court to believe?'

'It wasn't a duel like that. He tried to steal me horse while I was asleep an' when I woke up I pulled me gun so I could take him in for the bounty. He saw me an' we both must 'ave fired together. I don't remember pulling the trigger. It just went off in me hand.'

'How very convenient, Asker. It just went off. That's not what happened at all, is it? You murdered the man in cold blood, didn't you?'

'No, sir.'

'Come on, Asker. Murder runs in your family, doesn't it?'

Whatman sprang to his feet.

'Really, your honor. I must object to this line of questioning. My client is on trial only for the murder of the persons named in the indictment.'

Martin Fell remained on his feet ready to defend his strategy and launched into his counter attack as soon as Whatman resumed his seat.

'Your honor, I'm astounded that my learned friend can have the audacity to pass off a brutal and heinous triple slaying as only murder. Surely this crime, the most serious imaginable, deserves to have all things considered which are relevant whether they are events of today, last year, or fifty years ago. The previous history of the accused is such as to show a long history of repeated violent offending including numerous murders. That must be held to be relevant.'

Whatman rose to speak again but Sir Thomas cut him short.

'I'm going to allow it Mr Whatman. I think it's relevant. Please continue, Mr Fell.'

'Please tell the court your father's full name.'

'Andrew Sidney Asker. I'll bet yer can't tell the court who your father was.'

'Was he the Andrew Sidney Asker referred to in this edition of the Sydney Daily Times published last year?' Fell held up the newspaper for Freddie to see and then turned it so the jury could see it too. It was the feature that was published after the Glengyle rape trial.

'That was me pa an' he was a good man.' Freddie Asker could feel his anger rising again.

'What would you say about the allegation made in this paper that your father, Andrew Sidney Asker, murdered Lawton Handley at the Hastings River during a dispute over a black woman called Ginalong?'

'My pa was a good man an' I say to hell with any man who says otherwise. I might be old an' sick but fer talk like that I'd still knock yer friggin' block off if yer stepped outside.'

'Silence, Asker!' the judge roared again. 'I won't tolerate threatening language in my court. If you don't control yourself you'll be dealt with most severely.'

'Oh, yeah? That's three times yer gonna hang me now, is it?'

For a moment Sir Thomas was at a loss for words while Fell smiled conceitedly from a safe distance.

'Don't you think that your outbursts confirm that you, like your father and grandfather, are an exceptionally violent man and capable of murder at the drop of a hat?'

'No! It confirms that I respect me parents but fatherless bastards like some I know wouldn't understand that.'

'I've had enough of this!' Robb bellowed from the bench. 'Take the prisoner to his cell immediately and give him nothing to eat or drink until he comes to his senses. Meanwhile this court is adjourned until tomorrow morning.'

'It ain't fair. It ain't fair,' Lizzie sobbed at the back of the courtroom. 'He's a good man.'

Whatman was on his feet.

'With respect, your honor, that would be inhumane and I will not allow it to happen.'

'Call it what you like, Whatman, and if you don't like it I can always lock you up too with your foul-mouthed client. You're as insolent as each other.'

'Then lock me up, if you dare!' Whatman glared defiantly at the crimson-faced judge.

'I will if you don't back down immediately,' Sir Thomas shouted.

'I won't back down. I demand that you declare a mistrial. These entire proceedings have been a farce and a travesty. The jury could not possibly reach a fair verdict now.'

'Mistrial denied!'

'In that case you leave me with no alternative but to go to Government House and plead for your immediate removal.'

As Whatman gathered up his books and papers he took a parting shot at his long-standing antagonist.

'Not only have you treated my client in an outrageous manner, but you've done it, as usual, in a drunken stupor. Your behavior,' he bowed mockingly, 'has been a profound disgrace to an honorable profession.'

Whatman turned on his heel and strode towards the door with his head held high. Suddenly he stopped, spun round and jabbed a defiant finger at the judge.

'Meanwhile, if anything untoward should befall that unfortunate man you will have me to deal with and I promise you that won't be easy.'

'Arrest that man!' Sir Thomas Robb bellowed.

Chapter 101

The Fiasco

The two constables moved obediently to carry out the order and momentarily forgot the prisoner in their care. Asker needed no second opportunity. He leapt the rail with the speed of a startled kangaroo. Martin Fell, still smiling conceitedly, saw him only a split second before the first blow struck. Freddie Asker laid into him like the prize-fighter of old and Fell was soon flat on his back. The two policemen abruptly abandoned their pursuit of Whatman and grabbed hold of Asker again. Meanwhile Sir Thomas, realizing he was next, hurried to his chambers for a long swig on his bottle. Then he hurried back into the courtroom again and amid the turmoil he pounded his gavel on the bench.

'Mistrial!' he called in a shrill voice as the jury members swung to face him in open-mouthed unison. Again the judge hurried towards the door but stopped half way and ran back to the bench again.

'The jury is discharged!' he called above the commotion before disappearing once more.

At the back of the courtroom the band of Asker supporters were in uproar.

'Lynch the friggin' judge,' Sid Asker howled.

'Oh, me poor lad,' Ruby cried. 'What 'ave they done to 'im?'

Next to Lizzie, Polly sat quietly rocking back and forth while tears glided slowly down her pale cheeks. Next to Polly was Cedric Hill who, at first, could only shake his head in disbelief. Young Sid Asker was incensed at the treatment being metered out to his father as the two policemen pulled Freddie roughly away from the bewildered lawyer.

'Get yer hands off me pa, yer bloody galahs.'

Charles Paine responded to Sid's threat with a heavy blow to Freddie's stomach that immediately made him double over and cough up blood.

The jury seemed fixed to their seats and seemed not to care that they had been discharged.

'Unbelievable,' a juror uttered quietly. 'They've driven him to it.'

'They've turned his mind,' another said. 'He shouldn't hang.'

Whatman had already departed for Government House when Robb appeared again swaying on his feet. His face was bright red and his eyes seemed to bulge even more than before.

'I said the jury is discharged!' he bellowed. 'Be off with you, all of you. Get out of here!' He swung his arm dismissively and sent his brandy bottle crashing to the floor. As he spoke, two more policemen arrived to take control of the prisoner and his supporters.

'You're drunk!' Cedric Hill shouted at the judge.

'Arrest that man!' Sir Thomas shouted but the police were too busy elsewhere.

'The court is in session again in the matter of the Queen versus Asker,' the judge shouted as he tried to regain control.

'What about the jury?' Ruby screamed above the turmoil.

'I can manage without them,' Sir Thomas retorted. 'There's no judge in the colony fairer than me. The prisoner has nothing to fear, nothing at all. Mr Fell, do you have any more questions for the prisoner? Yes, leave the prisoner here, constable. This will all be dealt with promptly... Mr Fell?'

'Ah... Well...' Fell faltered as he rubbed his injuries.

'Get on with it, Fell. Don't piss around... I mean get on with it.'

'Yes, your honor... I mean no, your honor. I don't feel...'

The prosecutor slumped into his chair and held his head in his hands.

'In that case I'll sum up and reach a fair and just verdict.'

Just then twenty-year-old Harry Asker ran into the courtroom from his nearby employment.

'What's going on here?' he demanded.

'Who the hell do you think you are coming into my courtroom, interrupting the proceedings like that?'

'I'm Harry Asker, son o' Freddie Asker, and if you don't give him a fair go, mate, I'm gonna knock your friggin block off, yer drunken old fart.'

'Get out of here you insolent fool, or I'll have you in jail with the rest of your vile mob.'

Eighteen-year-old Sid ran towards the bench with clenched fists.

'I'll be helping me brother,' he shouted.

Before he could reach the bench Constable Norman brought him to the floor with a flying tackle. Harry put a headlock on Norman and tried to drag him away from his younger brother. In an instant Constable Paine had drawn his revolver, held it against Harry's temple and squeezed the trigger. As Harry slumped to the floor, another shot rang out from Norman's weapon and young Sid also lay dying on the floor.

'Clear the court!' Sir Thomas Robb ordered over the screams of the Asker women. Another police officer ran into the building in response to the gunfire and Robb repeated his order.

Chapter 102

Stone the Crows

In a few minutes only the judge, clerk, a bruised and shaken Fell, Dudley Glengyle and a number of police remained in the courtroom.

'Are you ready to sum up, Mr Fell?'

'Yes, your honor. There is no question about whether or not the accused is the person who murdered the unfortunate Sir Walter Glengyle, Sir Sebastian Starkie and Michael Hickey. He has readily admitted it but has pleaded not guilty on the grounds of insanity. However no evidence has been offered to support that defense and therefore, in my submission, that cannot be held to be a valid ground for finding the accused not guilty. I hasten to add that the behavior of the accused, and his family, here today is ample evidence of their propensity for extreme violence. With regard to my learned colleague, I sympathize with him. He had a hopeless case from the start and I can't blame him one bit for abandoning his client mid-trial. In my submission, your honor, there can be only one reasonable conclusion to this trial and that must be to find the accused guilty as charged.'

'Thank you, Mr Fell. I agree totally. Now, Asker, do you have anything to say before I pass sentence... I mean before I reach a verdict?'

'Stone the friggin' crows!' Freddie Asker exclaimed in amazement as he shuffled to his feet gripping the rail for support. 'The trial should be halted till me lawyer gets back.'

'No, Asker. He abandoned you.'

'Ain't yer the judge what said I've got nothin' to fear an' now yer wants to hang me without a lawyer an' before I've even been found guilty. You're so pissed yer wouldn't know justice from a donkey's arse...'

'That's it, Asker! You've had your chance to state your case...'

'Now you listen here. If there's one thing I'm gonna 'ave before they slip the noose, it's me right to speak an' if you don't like it then why don't yer piss off and slop up some more brandy? Horse shit! There ain't nothin's gonna silence me this side o' the hangman's noose. I'm gonna sing like a friggin canary till the noose chokes the last breath outta me. I've got nothin' to loose. I'm a dead man already. Tell me Sir Judge how much is yer getting' from the Glengyles for havin' me swing? Come on. Spit it out.'

Sir Thomas Robb sat glaring at the prisoner but decided to let him run out of steam.

'The shootin' o' Glengyle, Starkie and Hickey had nothin' to do with me father or grandfather. Nothin' at all. That was pure poppycock from that chinless nark over there so that the jury would get the wrong savvy on us Askers. Okay, I know I was a rotten shite in me early days but I was only eight when I went to jail that first time. What sort o' shit is that? Yeah, I learned a lot from Joker Hammond an' 'e was me mate on the inside. He'd been a mate of me pa an' 'e just wanted to help me survive in the world when the likes o' your lot was hell-bent on destroyin' me. Joker Hammond was one o' the best men I ever knew. When we was on the goldfields, sure we pulled some dodgy stunts, carried guns, and gambled. Everyone did. Murder was an everyday fact o' life. As fer Will Bethune, I coulda claimed the bounty fer killin' 'im. There was posters all over the goldfields offerin' fifty quid for 'is capture, dead or alive. When I ran into Bethune I was coming back to Sydney with me pockets full as a tick an' I wasn't that desperate fer fifty quid. I didn't claim it outta respect fer the man. I just buried the poor blighter so 'e could rest in peace. Bethune an' Beechworth an' all that other crap ain't the reason I'm 'ere today. It's because injustice after injustice blew me friggin' mind. So I went an' put a stop to the scoundrel what raped an' almost killed me little girl after yer mates let 'im off. I caught 'im giving bribes to the judge an' the foreman o' the jury.'

'You can't say that, Asker. Those are not proven facts.'

'I saw the money handed over with me own eyes.'

Chapter 103

The Curse

Freddie Asker sensed that the two policemen who held him had been suffering in the intense heat and humidity inside the courthouse. From time to time he had felt them sway on their feet. The oppressive heat was taking its toll on him too but he knew that, in spite of his failing health and the rigors of the trial, old Freddie still had a reserve of energy for special occasions. Both policemen were taken completely by surprise when he slipped their grasp, spun a hundred and eighty degrees and dropped his dungarees in one swift movement, baring his hideous flogging scars for all to see. The policemen made a belated grab for him as he doubled over and farted loudly at the bench.

'That's what a fact is, Sir Judge.' He laughed loudly. 'An' if yer wanna hang me fer that too you'll need to catch the evidence in a bottle afore it blows out the window.'

'Enough, Asker!' Sir Thomas shouted angrily.

'Enough. Enough,' Asker mimicked. 'Go on. Get on with it. Find me guilty o' killin' yer crooked mates. Send me to the hangman. I's got nothin' to lose.'

'Frederick Smythe Asker I find you guilty of the wilful murder of... Let's see... The names are Walter Bannock Kirkton Glengyle, Sebastian Alfred Starkie and, who was the other...? Michael Patrick Hickey. Do you have anything else to say before I pass sentence?'

'I'll speak for him,' a lone juror shouted from the jury box. 'You're making a serious mistake and I hope there will be a proper inquiry into this fiasco. What's this country coming to?'

'Frederick Smythe Asker I hereby sentence you to be hung by the neck until dead and I further order that the sentence be carried out forthwith. The court is now adjourned.'

'Cheers mate! Justice, brandy and horse shit!'

As Sir Thomas Robb hurried to his chambers to open a fresh bottle of brandy, Freddie Asker delivered a final tirade and ultimate curse.

'That's right, Sir Shitface, yer friggin' coward. Run out the back an' have another swig. It won't save yer conscience or yer soul. I dunno if there's a God or not, but yer sure gonna burn in hell, if there's one o' them. If there ain't a God then I'm gonna come back for yer me self, cos yer ain't got no right 'ere on this earth. When I'm dead – you're dead!'

Constables Norman and Paine quickly hauled the condemned man from the courthouse, half carrying and half dragging him, to the back of the police station where, without delay, they prepared to carry out the sentence of the court.

Miles Whatman left Government House late in the afternoon and hurried back to the courthouse with a document signed by the Governor. The Governor had acted decisively and methodically by dispatching messages to several prominent lawyers and the chief judge. Then he used his newly installed telephone to call the Premier and the Minister of Justice. When he was satisfied that Whatman's request was reasonable and that the action would be accepted by the legal profession, he signed the document revoking the warrant held by Sir Thomas Robb.

The terms of the revocation were precise. The dismissal was to take immediate effect. Any proceedings not completed, including the trial of Frederick Smythe Asker, were declared to be mistrials. Whatman was charged with the responsibility of seeing Robb leave the courthouse immediately after serving the Governor's notice.

As Whatman rounded the corner near the courthouse and adjoining police station his jubilation quickly turned to anger and bitter disappointment. A crowd had gathered in the street to gawk at the wretched emaciated corpse of Freddie Asker, hanging limply from the scaffold while his mother, wife and children wept and wailed below and cursed the system that had allowed such a tragedy to happen.

He stood between the two women with an arm around the shoulders of each and stared up at the lifeless man while he searched for the right words.

'This is a ghastly mistake. I'm so terribly sorry. I know it's no consolation to you but the judge is going to pay very dearly for this. I can't believe it's happened. It's an outrage. I don't know what else to say.' He looked at each of the children for a moment and sensed that there was more to the tragedy than the body of Freddie.

'Has something else happened?'

'Harry and Sid,' Ruby wailed. 'They're both dead. The police shot them.'

'Oh. My God, that's awful, Mrs. Asker. One day there will be real justice and that I promise you. Meanwhile, I must leave you for a few minutes. I have a vital duty to perform. I'll be back as soon as it's done.'

As Whatman strode into the courthouse he had to step around the bodies of Harry and Sid Asker. In the judge's chambers he found Sir Thomas Robb sitting in his large chair with a partly finished bottle of brandy.

'You should knock on the door, Mr Whatzit.'

'Whatman, if you don't mind.'

'Whatman, Whatzit, whatzit matter? You should have respect... And where were you when your murdering client was found guilty...? Suppose he's been hung by now... You know what that swine had the nerve to say to me when I sentenced him?'

'I'm not really interested in anything you have to say, Robb...'

'You never were. Sir Thomas, if you don't mind. Knight of the Realm and Judge of Her Majesty's court. Show respect.'

'Well, I do mind. You're not worthy of either title and I've come to inform you that the Governor has dismissed you with immediate effect. You are to leave the building forthwith. Here is the notice revoking your warrant.'

Robb took the notice and read it in silence.

'The Governor will pay for this. Mark my words, Mr Whatzit, if they think John Macarthur was hard to deal with just wait till I get started. There will be a coup against this rotten Governor. Just you wait and see... As for Asker, do you know what that swine had the audacity to say to me?'

'I can imagine he said something very close to the truth.'

'He said God was going to come and get me and, if there was no God, he'd come back for me himself, the insolent swine. How dare he?'

'You did that man a grave injustice.'

'He was vermin, Whatzit, vermin!'

'He was ten times the man that you are.'

Robb ignored the barb and picked up the Governor's notice to read it again while he took another long swig from the brandy bottle.

'What's all this balderdash from the Governor? Who does he think he is, Whatzit?'

'There's a grieving family waiting for me outside. I don't have time to indulge in your twaddle so I'd be obliged if you would just pick up your personal possessions and get out of here.'

'That swine. He had a thicker hide than even Ned Kelly. He's coming back for me. That's a laugh!'

'Just leave the building, Robb.'

Sir Thomas Robb rocked back in his big chair and started to laugh. Suddenly the bottle crashed to the floor, he clutched his chest and gasped for breath. Then, with his mouth and eyes wide open, he toppled over backwards, striking his head on the floor with a thud. He was dead.

Chapter 104

Caraher's Lane

In less than a year Lizzie had lost her husband and two more children in addition to both her parents. It was more than her mind could cope with.

Polly neared the end of her pregnancy and her physical and mental health was also precarious. She blamed herself for everything that had happened, including the deaths of her father and two brothers. She was convinced that she must have done something to encourage Glengyle to force himself onto her and that she must have deserved the rape and beating that he'd given her. Many people, including some Caraher's Lane residents, shunned her or pointed accusingly after reading the distorted Sydney Daily Times accounts of the latest trial. It mattered little that the Sydney Tribune News had added some balance to the saga. Being an unmarried expectant mother carried a terrible stigma and she rarely ventured outside the Asker's small house. Often she wished that she could die so that she could be freed from the burden and shame.

The strength of the family was Granny Ruby. At fifty-six she still looked remarkably young and attractive. Her mother, Mary Smythe, lived with her in the Caraher's Lane boarding house and with only fourteen years separating them they looked more like sisters. Both widows for many years, they concentrated their energies on the boarding house and the children of Freddie and Lizzie.

Ruby, Mary and Rose were all on hand to help when Polly's baby decided to come into the world. While they wiped Polly's forehead and comforted her through the painful contractions, Lizzie sat nearby holding a one way conversation with Freddie as though he was still alive and living with her.

The new arrival was called Cedric after Cedric Hill, the family's close friend and supporter. Nathaniel was chosen as the baby's second name in honor of his great grandfather who, as far as could be determined, was born about a hundred and eight years earlier in England.

Soon after Cedric's birth, two women from the printery visited Polly. When Dudley Glengyle learned of the visit he terminated their employment and a few days later another scurrilous article about the Askers appeared in the Times. That night a brick was hurled through the window at Caraher's Lane and landed inches from where baby Cedric was sleeping.

After Cedric's birth Polly had a new outlook on life and a renewed zest for living. She took on the responsibility of running the household and caring for her five younger brothers and sisters in addition to raising Cedric. Another two brothers had started working and gave most of their wages to Polly.

Lizzie's health continued to decline and just before Cedric's second birthday she succumbed to the scourge of consumption at the age of forty-four.

Polly also took great pride in the interior of their little house and, for the first time, the family had a small collection of cheap ornaments that could be displayed when occasional visitors dropped in. Every penny that she could get went into the interior of the house, its furnishings, cooking and eating utensils and bedding. But the house was really too small for the number of occupants. It was also old and poorly constructed. Having been built on one of the swampy areas of the Rocks, it suffered from inadequate drainage and rising damp. Like many other houses in the lane it still had no water reticulation and garbage disposal was by way of a backyard cesspit or through gaps in the warped and rotting floorboards. Without fail, when the rent was collected Polly pleaded for improvements and repairs and on the rare occasions when the rack-rent landlord agreed, she knew that she could also expect another rent hike.

Polly's sister, twelve-year-old Jane started working from home as a sewing piece-worker. Working in a poorly lit part of the house for up to sixteen hours a day, six days a week, she struggled to make a financial contribution to the household.

On a dark and windy winter night, just before midnight, she felt utterly exhausted but resolved to do a few more stitches before turning in for the night. For a brief moment she dozed off at the table where her work was spread out. The wind chose that very moment to blow a little stronger through a crack in the ancient window frame, causing the candle and curtain to meet briefly but catastrophically. Within seconds the curtain and then the entire wall were alight and suddenly Jane was wide-awake again.

Quickly she ripped the blazing curtain from its hooks, stamped her feet furiously on it and screamed for the rest of the family to get out of the building. The fire spread rapidly through the tinder-dry building and it was all they could do to get themselves out leaving no time to gather up any possessions on the way. From the safety of Caraher's Lane they watched dumbfounded as the only home the children could remember burned to the ground.

'Where's Andy?' someone screamed.

'Andy! Andy!' Polly screamed above the roar of the flames and the sounds of cracking timber and exploding windows.

Before anyone could stop her, Jane dashed headlong into the inferno to rescue her youngest brother. Her screams could be heard for only a few seconds as the fire intensified. Neighbors started appearing on the scene but there was nothing they could do to save the house, Jane or eight-year-old Andy.

Of Freddie and Lizzie's twelve children, six were dead and two were no longer in contact with the family. That left only Polly, George, David and Isobel as well as two-year-old Cedric whom Polly had gathered into her arms as soon as she heard the first screams. As they watched speechless with shock, they barely noticed that a fire tender had arrived and was trying to stop the flames spreading to adjoining buildings.

'When will our troubles ever end?' Polly asked as Ellen Wilkinson suggested that they should go to her house for the rest of the night.

Her answer came from a hostile neighbor influenced either by the libel of the Sydney Daily Times or the birth of Cedric out of wedlock.

'It ain't never gonna end till the last of you trouble making Askers is out of the lane for good. Maybe this'll finally get yer's out.'

The two boys rounded on the spiteful neighbor.

'Don't speak to me sister like that unless yer want yer friggin block knocked off, mate.' George held a threatening fist in the man's face while David prepared to attack from the side.

'Stop it! Stop it at once!' Polly ordered. 'Don't touch 'im. He ain't worth it an' you'll only finish up in jail an' too many Askers has already been there. Ignore him.'

Then Ellen turned to face the man.

'They ain't never done you no harm. Why can't you just leave them be?'

The man spat on the ground in contempt and moved away.

Chapter 105

The Boarding House

After the fire the Askers were split between two houses. Polly, Isobel and Cedric stayed on with the Wilkinson's while George and David moved in with Ruby and Mary at the boarding house. As far as Polly was concerned, it was only a temporary arrangement to tide them over until something permanent could be arranged. Ruby admired her spirit. But she knew that a seventeen-year-old girl with four younger ones depending on her would have great difficulty building a new life from the ashes of Caraher's Lane and all that had gone before.

As Ruby thought about the situation she devised a plan. There was another slightly larger building next door to her boarding house, which could be converted into lodgings, and the two buildings could be run as one business with Polly as her assistant manager. With only two mortgage repayments still to be made Ruby's property would soon be freehold and the way would be clear to raise another loan for the purchase of the second building. Failing that she could sell Caraher's Lane and buy a larger property somewhere else. But that was a less popular alternative because every other area was much more expensive than Caraher's Lane. So first she invited her neighbor in for a cup of tea, as she often did, and casually mentioned that she was thinking of buying a larger property.

'Mine is too big for me now,' Clarissa White replied in an equally casual manner. 'I'd think about selling if the price was right.'

Ruby quietly sipped her tea and thought about it for a moment.

'I suppose I shouldn't by nosy, but what do you think its worth?'

'When my Bert was alive he reckoned it was worth a hundred and seventy-five pounds. Mind you they've all gone up since then. I think if I was going to sell it would have to be for about two hundred.'

'Well, I 'ave to admit, I toyed with the idea and it's a fine building, but at two hundred me bank manager would 'ave me clapped in irons fer even suggestin' it.'

'It takes a bank manager to put a dampener on things, doesn't it?'

They finished their tea and Clarissa went back to her own house and Ruby went to the bank.

'I know the property, Mrs. Asker. It's worth every penny of two hundred and the bank will lend you whatever you need,' the manager said without hesitation.

Then she went to see lawyer Miles Whatman who interrupted an appointment so that he could speak briefly with her.

'Sounds like good business, Mrs. Asker. When you reach agreement on the price come back and see me and I'll have some papers for both parties to sign. Mrs. White will have a legal fee to pay and that will be all.'

'No fee for me?'

'It's not usual for the buyer. I'd be reluctant to charge you anything anyhow.'

'Why?'

'Toby Barton paid me very generously to defend Freddie, God bless his soul, and I wish we could have got a better outcome. I've had a pretty good life while you folk have gone from one tragedy to another. It wouldn't be fair and I don't need the money.'

'You're a really nice man, Mr Whatman.'

'Think nothing of it. How's young Cedric?'

'He's coming on fine. He's a really lovely little boy.'

Whatman bent his head closer to Ruby so he could speak confidentially.

'Just between you and me and the gatepost, Mrs. White doesn't need the money. You should drive a hard bargain with her. She already has a smaller property that she wants to move into,' he whispered quietly.

'Thanks, Mr Whatman. I'll see what I can do,' Ruby smiled and left Whatman's chambers.

She avoided her neighbor for two days and on the third day Clarissa was at Ruby's door.

'Cooee, Ruby. Would you like some tea?'

'Is that you, Clarissa?' Ruby tried to sound surprised.

'Yes, Ruby. Come for some tea. I'd like to talk about the house.'

'Thanks, Clarissa. Yer can count on me fer the tea, but don't wait fer me as far as buying the house is concerned.'

'Don't say that, Ruby, until we've talked about the price.'

'Yer said yer wanted two hundred, didn't yer? I couldn't pay that much.'

'Well let's talk about it when you come over.'

'Okay. I'll be there in a few minutes.'

Ten minutes later Ruby knocked and walked in, as usual. For another ten minutes they made small talk until Clarissa suddenly switched to her businesslike tone. Ruby held up a hand to stop her.

'Don't tell me, Clarissa. I don't want you to be offended when I say no. It's better if I just tell yer me limit at the bank. That way you'll understand me position. I can't pay more than a hundred an' forty-five quid an' I know yer not gonna sell for that.'

'I understand, Ruby. I was really hoping for about a hundred and eighty pounds but I'd settle for a hundred and sixty.'

'I'm sorry, Clarissa. It ain't nothin' to do with the house. It's fine. It's the bank. They'd have me hung, drawn and quartered if I agreed to a penny more that one-forty-five. I'd better be off now.'

'Pity. But you don't have to go. I understand.'

'Yeah. It would be nice.' Ruby looked admiringly around the large parlor. 'But I do 'ave to go. I've got mountains o' work waiting for me.'

As Ruby walked back to the boarding house she wondered if she had offered too little. It was a fine building and it suited her plans ideally. She was tempted to go back and offer another £10 but she did not need to because two days later Clarissa was at her door again.

'You know how to drive a hard bargain, Ruby.' Clarissa said when they sat down with their teacups. 'I want to sell it to you at a hundred and forty-five pounds.'

'I'm... I'm not sure what to say,' Ruby stammered. 'I never thought I'd be able to buy it at that price.'

'Well you can, Ruby. Do you want it?'

'Oh, yes. I do.'

'Who said women can't do business deals?'

They both laughed and Ruby looked quickly over her shoulder.

'Can't see no man round here. Can you?'

The teacups rattled nervously on their saucers as they set them down so that they could shake hands the way their men would have done to seal their agreement. Then spontaneously they did something that men would never do at the end of a business transaction. They hugged and kissed each other and refilled the teacups.

'It's a lovely house, Clarissa, and we'll take good care of it.'

'I know you will. That's why I wanted you to buy it. Now let's finish our tea and go and see your Mr Whatzit.'

'Whatman 'e's called. He might be put out if yer call 'im Mr Whatzit. That's what that 'orrible judge called him before 'e dropped down dead.'

Later, after they had been to see Whatman, Ruby went back to the bank again in time to see Dudley Glengyle departing in his carriage. Quite uncharacteristically he doffed his hat to Ruby and smiled politely.

'Good morning, Mrs. Asker,' he greeted her like a perfect gentleman.

'It's easy to see yer been up to somethin' what's no good. Why else would I be yer long lost friend, Glengyle?'

Glengyle continued to smile quietly as his carriage drew away from the bank.

Inside the bank she was ushered into the manager's office and immediately noticed that his manner had changed since their last meeting.

'The bank has had a change of policy. We cannot grant the loan you asked for,' he announced curtly.

Ruby was shocked but only for the briefest moment and her reply left the manager stumbling for words.

'What's the matter? Has young Glengyle been round 'ere givin' 'is orders?'

'I... I don't know what... I can't discuss the business of other clients.'

'Oh. So yer admit 'e's got 'is account 'ere?'

'I can't say anything more. I'm sorry, Mrs...'

'Sorry, me arse!' she retorted as she turned her back on him and marched towards the door.

A few minutes later she was seated in Whatman's office telling him about the bank's about-face.

'Don't worry,' he told her. 'We have some money available which we can let you have at the same rate as the bank. The purchase of Mrs. White's house can still proceed.'

In the weeks that followed Clarissa White received her settlement from Whatman, the bank received their final installment on Ruby's house and Ruby moved her account to another bank.

Chapter 106

Inheritance

The Rocks was the first area of Sydney to be settled after Sydney Cove and at the time of Ruby's house purchase from Clarissa White, the Rocks had the oldest and most primitive buildings in the colony. The two buildings that became jointly known as Ruby's Boarding House were of a much higher standard than the neighboring buildings which represented the core of Australia's first slum and, in the eyes of most people, the root and hub of Sydney's crime and health epidemics.

The leading causes of death were consumption, smallpox, diphtheria, typhus and bubonic plague, and the worst affected area was Long's Lane, Cribb's Lane, Caraher's Lane, Cambridge Street and Cumberland Street.

Rocks people frequently demanded better drainage, water reticulation and garbage disposal while the residents of other districts demanded demolition of the slum, limits on the number of occupants in Rocks buildings and a harder line on Rocks crime. Calls were frequently heard demanding that the authorities take children away from neglectful parents, and re-introduce flogging and the death penalty for stealing and other serious crimes.

Residents of The Rocks longed for the day when good fortune would allow them to move out of the area, leaving their troubles and stigma behind them. However that was not the case with Edmund Barton who had spent part of his youth in the area and still had friends there. But Barton led an exceptionally busy life and his visits to the Rocks inevitably became less frequent. The Rocks was then outside his East Sydney electorate which he represented with distinction and without pay. In addition he became the Speaker of Legislative Assembly and that placed an even greater burden on his time. However he considered himself a Rocks man through and through and looked upon the residents as hard-working, down-to-earth folks and was always ready to take up a cause on their behalf.

When Dudley Glengyle, the third generation publisher of the Sydney Daily Times, Newcastle News and Parramatta Standard, became a candidate for the Legislative Council of New South Wales, Barton campaigned against him, speaking at meetings held by Glengyle's main opponent. Glengyle lost the election and turned his attention to winning a seat on the Sydney City Council. Barton campaigned against him again but Glengyle was elected and soon became one of the most influential aldermen in the city and the council appointed him chairman of the City of Sydney Improvement Board. His objective was in sight.

Sir Walter Glengyle had left a vast fortune to Dudley and Dudley's major fear was that his half-brother, Cedric Nathaniel Asker, would one day claim a share of the estate. He had devised a plan whereby he could use his power and influence to show the snotty-nosed Askers once and for all that they had better stay well clear of the Glengyles. He had no doubt that Ruby, Polly and their lawyer, Whatman, would be preparing for an all-out battle to win a share of the inheritance for the poxy little bastard from the Caraher's Lane slum.

Chapter 107

Dan Martin

After fitting extra partitions and creating extra rooms, Ruby's extended boarding house gradually filled up with boarders.

A few months after the extension opened, an immaculately dressed, elderly man came to the door looking for a room and Polly showed him the last vacant single room.

'I'll be taking this one, miss,' he told her as he produced some coins for payment.

'What name will it be, Mister?' she asked as she prepared to write in the register.

'Martin, miss, Dan Martin. Don't worry there'll always be money for the rent, miss.'

'Not worried about that, Mr Martin. It's just for the record. I'm Polly Asker. Hope you'll be comfortable here.'

Martin looked surprised

'Asker?'

'That's right. Me folks was Freddie an' Lizzie Asker. Did yer know 'em?'

'No, not them... The Asker I knew was Andrew Asker. Married a girl called Ruby an' they had a boy... No. It was two boys and a girl, but I don't remember their names now.'

'Andrew Asker was me grandpa. He was a drover most of 'is life. He died before I was born.'

Martin stared at Polly in silence as the revelation sank in.

'Well I never! He was me best mate. I was with him when he died.'

'Really? Wait till me grandma hears about this. She'll want to meet yer.'

'Yer mean Ruby? She still alive an' kicking?'

'Come with me, Mr Martin. I want to show yer somethin'.'

She led Martin out to the street and pointed to the sign over the door proclaiming 'Ruby's Boarding House' in bold lettering.

'I saw that but had no idea it was Andrew's Ruby. Yer grandpa an' me we drove cattle an' sheep all over the country for years. Went to sea together before that an' we both lived in Bathurst when we was knee-high. Also knew the old folks, Nathaniel an' Isobel. Is Ruby here?'

'Wait a moment. I'll call 'er.' She called at the top of her voice. 'Granny! There's a gentleman 'ere to see yer!'

'Who is it, Polly?' Ruby's replied from inside the building.

'A Mr Martin, Gran. Says he knows yer.'

'Don't think I know no Mr Martin, dear. What's 'e...'

Ruby suddenly appeared in the doorway, her mouth wide open.

'Gidday, Ruby.'

'Dan?' she asked with some uncertainty. 'Dan Martin?'

'Yes, Ruby. Dan Martin. Just dropped in lookin' for a room. It's great to see you again after all these years.'

Ruby turned towards Polly.

'Mr Martin an' the drovers was really good to us after yer grandpa died.' She turned back to Dan Martin. 'It's a real pity we didn't keep in touch all these years, Dan. You're gonna be most welcome here. Has Polly shown yer a good room?'

'Yeah. Looks really comfortable.'

Ruby turned back to Polly again.

'He's to get the best o' everything, Polly, an' if yer wanna know anything about yer ancestors just ask Mr Martin. He knew yer great-grandparents an' he always said they was good folks. I know yer grandpa would turn in 'is grave if 'e knew half o' what folks has done to 'is family.'

'Don't, Gran,' Polly pleaded. 'Mr Martin don't wanna hear about it. It's best forgotten.'

Dan Martin was shocked.

'If there's any way I can help, Ruby, yer must tell me.'

'There's a lot to tell, Dan. It's a wonder yer ain't heard some of it. It's been in the newspapers an' folks has been talkin' about us wicked Askers fer years.'

'Ain't heard a jot where I've been. Yer must tell me.'

'Please don't, Gran,' Polly pleaded again.

'Well, maybe some time, but not just yet. It's sensitive. Tell us about yerself, Dan.'

They moved into the parlor and Polly went to make some tea.

'Some of its very sensitive fer Polly. We'll just 'ave to give 'er time,' Ruby said quietly.

'I understand, Ruby. Nothin' much to tell about me. Kept on drovin' fer over forty years. Salted away enough to retire an' take a trip to the ol' country to see where me roots was. Wanted to know why me folks was put in chains an' shipped 'ere. Didn't find out much. Folks over there don't wanna know about it. As they say, outta sight, outta mind. Been a sort of world traveler for a few years. But I'm back 'ere an' I'm gonna try an' settle in Sydney. Not sure how I'm gonna get on after all them years sleepin' under the stars with horses, dogs an' cattle and traveling the world with no fixed abode.'

After he had gone to his room Polly spoke quietly to Ruby again. There was something she could not understand about Dan Martin.

'If 'e's been a drover an' slept under the stars, like 'e says, for all that time, what's with the suit 'e's wearin'? That don't seem like a drover.'

'That's the way they all was, Polly. They had it so rough out on the trail, sleepin' in the open, never washin' or changin' their clothes, goin' without proper food an' things. When they came to town they always made up for it with the best o' everything including fine clothes. That's how I met yer grandpa. I was workin' at Watson's Hotel an' the drovers used to stay there. It was a kind o' base for celebratin', drinkin', and gamblin' an' meetin' ladies. Mr Martin probably had 'is suit on today because it's all 'e's got if 'e's been to the ol' country. After all 'e couldn't take 'is drovin' outfit over there.'

Ruby paused for a moment deep in thought.

'Yer remember when yer was talkin' about writin'?'

'I still want to be a writer, Gran. I'd have to brush up a bit on me English first of course.'

'Well, Polly, while Mr Martin is here would be a good time to do some writin' about the Askers. He can remember back further than me.'

'I know, Gran. But I don't think I wanna do that now. There's some chapters I'd 'ave to skip. Yer know what I mean?'

Ruby thought carefully for a moment.

'Yeah. I understand, dear. But it don't have to have everything in it. Yer could skip all that. Yer see what I was thinkin' was that Dan... I mean Mr Martin could help yer so much.'

'I might just skip it all together, Gran.'

'It'd be a shame, Polly.'

'Maybe one day I'll encourage Cedric to do it.'

'Maybe one day Mr Martin won't be 'ere to help him. But 'e could help you.'

'Alright, Gran. I'll think about it.'

At eighty-three, Dan Martin was still a remarkably fit and healthy man. With his silver hair, straight back and broad shoulders he was still a handsome man too. He was instantly popular with the residents at Ruby's Boarding House including all the Askers from the oldest to the youngest.

Chapter 108

The Courtship

Dan Martin's daily routine was to rise at six in the morning for a smoke and a cup of tea followed by a hearty breakfast prepared by Polly or Ruby. Then he would take himself on a long walk through the streets and lanes of Sydney or the Rocks. Later he would return to Ruby's Boarding House where he would find some small odd jobs around the buildings that he considered best done by a man. After lunch he would spend two or three hours reading or chatting with anyone who had the time and inclination to join in. More often than not, Polly would make time to join these sessions, sometimes making notes. At five o'clock Martin would head for the Whaler's Arms or the Bird-in-Hand, for a pint or two before returning for dinner and another chat with the residents until retiring at about nine o'clock.

The only change to Dan Martin's routine in the first year came when, once a week, he started going for his pint or two at the local with an empty jug in his hand. When he returned the jug was always filled with ale for Ruby and Polly, who could then sup and chat while they cooked dinner for the large household.

One afternoon as Polly poured another mug of ale, she turned to Ruby with a grin on her face.

'Yer know, Gran, I think 'e fancies yer.'

'Polly! What a thing to say. He's just a nice ol' man. He don't mean nothin' by it,' Ruby replied, flushed with embarrassment.

'Oh, Gran, if yer could see yer face. You've gone as red as a beetroot.' Polly chuckled with delight. 'Yer fancy 'im too, don't yer?'

'Polly! How could yer? You've 'ad too much to drink.'

Ruby quickly moved the jug out of Polly's reach.

'I ain't sozzled, Gran. I've only 'ad one mug. It's true. You'd be a grand pair, the two o' yer, an' if I was in yer shoes I'd grab 'im.'

'Polly! We should talk about somethin' else, girl.'

'Why?'

'Cos it ain't right fer us to talk like this. Any case it's time you got yerself a man, ain't it?' Ruby ventured something she thought should have been said a long time ago.

'No, Gran. It ain't gonna happen fer me. What with Ben an' that horrible creature I can't even bring me self to look at them no more.'

Polly moved towards the large coal range and busied herself with the cooking.

From the open doorway came the sound of a man clearing his throat and both women turned together to see the tall frame of Dan Martin filling the doorway.

'Hope I'm not intruding, ladies. Just thought yer might like another jug.'

'No thanks, Dan. If Polly has any more she'll be three parts shicker. She's already 'ad too much to drink an' too much to say.'

From behind Ruby, Polly shook her head in a gesture that suggested that he should ignore what Ruby had to say.

'I ain't shicker at all, Mr Martin, an' if yer wanna bring another jug Gran will help yer drink it.'

She made another gesture designed to encourage him an instant before Ruby spun round to face her.

'Yer takin' big liberties, missy,' she said firmly.

When Ruby went back to apologize to Dan he'd already slipped out the door with the empty jug. Ruby turned back to Polly again but her indignation was already giving way to resignation.

'Yer know what yer pa, good man that 'e was, would've said now?'

A mischievous smile flitted across Polly's face.

'Yeah, I know. He would've said, "Jesus, Mary an' friggin Joseph, yer just can't win, can yer?"'

Ten minutes later Dan was back again with the jug refilled and topped with a heady froth. He poured mugs for himself and Ruby while Polly continued with the cooking. After dinner Ruby and Dan drank the last of their ale seated in the small backyard of the two large houses. From time to time Polly could hear their voices and the sounds of laughter drifting in through an open window.

The next night as Polly settled down in her bed, all was quiet apart from the occasional bark of a neighborhood dog, or footsteps along the lane. She marveled at how still the night was. Then she heard a sound somewhere inside the house. She held her breath for a moment and listened for the sound again. She heard it again, a creaking sound from another room. She smiled joyfully as she realized what it was and thought about Ben Bates and how their lives might have been different but for that brute Glengyle. She made an effort to put Glengyle out of her thoughts. She listened again. Yes, she was sure. The old buggers were finally doing it! She was still smiling as she drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 109

A Traveler Returns

The next morning Dan was up and about at six o'clock as usual drinking his tea and having a smoke. Ruby and Polly cooked the breakfast and when the last of the lodgers had gone for the day Polly started on the dishes.

'Can yer manage without me for a while, love?' Ruby asked.

'Yer know I can, Gran.'

'Mr Martin has invited me to go with 'im on 'is walk,' Ruby said trying to sound casual.

'Good fer you, Gran.'

After that the couple went walking together most mornings while Polly did the dishes and started on the rooms. Then Dan would do some more odd jobs around the two buildings before taking an afternoon rest or sitting down to read. Towards evening he would take the jug along to the Whaler's Arms so that he and Ruby could sit outside, drink from their mugs and chat and laugh together like born-again teenagers.

The new routine continued for several months until one Sunday afternoon when Archie Asker, one of Polly's older brothers, unexpectedly came home for the first time in almost ten years. Ruby ushered him aside to an unused room where she broke the news of the tragic deaths of Archie's parents and Harry, Sid, Jane and Andy.

'I can't believe it, Gran. It's too much... I suppose I thought everything would be the same as before. Time has changed everything. I wish I'd never gone away. I could have helped when you all needed me. Instead I was chasing me dreams across the high seas. I'm really sorry, Gran.'

'Yer gonna stay home now?'

Archie sat quietly for a moment wondering how he could tell her.

'I can't, Gran,' he said at last. 'If I jump ship I'll be locked up. But that ain't all. I'm sure you'll be pleased to hear I've got me a nice missus in London an' two little babies to think of. Every time I go to sea I can't wait to get back to 'em.'

'I'm pleased for yer, Arch. Tell me about them. What are their names? How old are they? Come on, son, tell me everything.'

For over two hours the questions, answers and conversation continued and gradually it dawned on Ruby that her grandson was unlikely to settle in Australia again. His wife had never been away from London and showed no interest in traveling or living anywhere else and the children would naturally grow up the same way. She was quite content to let him do the traveling while she waited at home with the children.

Eventually they lapsed into a thoughtful silence.

'Of course yer 'ave to go back,' Ruby said at last. 'But would yer do somethin' for me when yer get there?'

'If it's in me power, Gran, of course I'll do it. What would yer like?'

'If I give yer an address fer yer Aunt Maggie would yer go an' see 'er an' take 'er a little gift from me?'

'Sure, Gran. Be glad to.'

'An' there'll be gifts for yer missus an' kids too. Jesus, Arch, I feel stupid. I got two great-grandchildren an' I don't even know their names.'

'Stupid o' me not to tell yer, Gran. Me missus is called Catherine and the children is Christopher, aged four, an' Phoebe who just turned one last time I was home. I'm really kickin' meself now fer not keepin' in touch.'

'Well, now there ain't no excuse, is there? I wish I could meet me new great-grandkids.'

Archie thought about that for a moment.

'Ain't it just about time for yer to retire, Gran? Yer could come an' visit us in London.'

'I don't think I could handle the journey at me age.'

Ruby led him through to the parlor where he was able to re-acquaint himself with his younger brothers and sisters as well as meet Cedric and Dan Martin for the first time. For another hour Archie entertained them with stories of his adventures on the high seas and far off places from New York to Cairo, Cape Town, Rio and Shanghai. Meanwhile Dan and Ruby slipped quietly out the back door and sat on their usual seats in the backyard for a time. When they came back they faced the small gathering in the parlor with an announcement.

'I've... I mean, we've got something to say.'

Dan hesitated for a moment as he thought about the right words.

'Your granny an' me... We weren't goin' to say nothin' just yet, but with Arch bein' home... Well, we're gonna say it now... I've asked yer granny to marry me and she's agreed. So from today we're betrothed, as they say...'

'Whoopee!' George shouted.

'Good on yer, Mr Martin.' David joined in. 'Can we call yer Grandpa?'

Dan suddenly lost his nervousness when he realized how eagerly the family was going to accept him. 'Call me anything yer like, Davey. Just don't call me late fer me tucker.'

'From now on you'll be cookin' it, Grandpa,' Polly interjected with a cheeky grin.

'I wouldn't mind a penny fer every meal I've cooked over a campfire in the Outback, but yer wouldn't wanna eat it round 'ere. You'd 'ave no boarders left after the first day. You're the expert, Polly. So I'll be quite happy for yer to continue doin' it.'

A door opened from another room and old Mary, showing the effects of a stroke that normally confined her to her room, limped slowly into the parlor.

'Come to see what all the fuss be about,' she said as she looked around at the gathering. When her eyes focused on Archie she recognized him immediately. 'Well blow me down if it ain't Archie. Is yer the one what I heard talkin' bout marriage?'

'No, Granny, I've already got a wife an' two kids in London.'

'Good fer you, Arch.'

'It was us, Mary,' Dan corrected her. 'Ruby an' me 'ave decided to tie the knot.'

'Well yer can't!' Mary snapped at them. 'I won't approve cos the pair o' yer ain't old enough.'

Then she gave a little smile on the side of her face that was unaffected by the stroke. 'Took yer bloody time, didn't yer?'

'Hip-hip-hurrah!' George yelled. 'This calls for a jug or two from the Whaler's. Come on Davey. Let's go get 'em.'

They celebrated well into the night with most of the lodgers joining in too. Then two days later they walked down to Semi Circular Quay to farewell Archie. It was a sad moment as his ship moved slowly down the harbor and out through the heads. The long-lost grandson, great grandson and brother who had come fleetingly back into their lives had departed again, probably forever.

PART THREE

Chapter 110

The Improvement Board

In 1887 the City of Sydney Improvement Board was a popular concept with the residents of Sydney. They saw it as the best way to eradicate crime and disease in the poorer parts of the city. It was also popular with the politicians because of the praise that was bestowed on them by the electors. A seat on the Board was an almost certain guarantee of re-election to the Council.

The Board's modus operandi was as simple as it was swift and effective. Any resident could petition the Board for the demolition of any building and a Board inspector would make a cursory inspection of the property from the outside. If he considered the building was a structural or health hazard, or a place where criminal activities occurred, he could place the property on the weekly list of buildings scheduled for a full inspection by the Board members. Following their inspection, the members could make an immediate decision to have a building demolished. Numerous demolition gangs were always standing by, eager to work and keen for some extra income from the disposal of the furniture, fittings and materials that were forfeited by the occupants of the demolished buildings.

Dudley Glengyle took his seat at the head of the boardroom table and after several administrative items the newly elected board turned their attention to the property inspection schedule. Glengyle was ready to apply his masterstroke.

He already knew that a majority of the board would support him totally. He knew that most members had one or more buildings that they personally wanted demolished for one reason or another such as a bad neighbor, a competing landlord, or a building that they wanted demolished so that they could purchase the vacant land cheaply. The previous chairman and board had tried to keep corruption to a minimum but the floodgates had been opened with the election of Glengyle and his cronies.

The debate was little more than a formality with the secretary reading a brief report on each building after which the members voted in favor of an inspection of the building later in the day. The only moment of indecision came when Henry Castleton wrestled with his conscience for a moment and kept the others waiting. He had been plagued for years by his drunken neighbors at Woolloomooloo and his appointment to the board gave him an opportunity to be rid of them once and for all by having their house flattened. His conscience had little difficulty with that. They were the worst possible neighbors imaginable and the whole street would be pleased to see the last of them. His difficulty was with two of the buildings favored for demolition by the chairman. Castleton knew that if he failed to support the chairman there would be no support for him when he needed the votes. Finally he decided to support the inspection of Ruby's Boarding House and its adjacent building. Castleton knew of the Askers and their long-running strife with the Glengyles. He knew the buildings concerned, but he believed that other members would object to the demolition thereby saving the day for him.

Traveling on several carriages, the board members went first to Cribb's Lane where they inspected three adjoining properties owned by the same rack-rent landlord. Each building was about seventy years old and poorly constructed and maintained. The earth floors were several inches lower than the surrounding street and backyards allowing all kinds of flotsam and jetsam to wash through when it rained. In some parts of the one-room houses there was barely room for a normal size person to stand erect beneath the leaky roofs. The board members paraded through the three houses in spite of the protests of the occupants and Glengyle signed the demolition order. Then he handed it to the leader of one of the demolition gangs, a man who had easily outbid his rivals by the size of the agreed kickback to the board chairman. As the board members left in their carriages for the short trip around the corner to Caraher's Lane, the peace of the neighborhood was interrupted by the sound of cracking timber, shattering glass and the screams of women and children suddenly made homeless by ruthless politicians.

They met a very different kind of resistance at Ruby's Boarding House. Ruby and Dan had gone on their daily walk, Polly had gone to the general store and the rest of the occupants were at work or school. Only old Mary was home when the Board called and Glengyle took great pleasure in throwing the door open and walking in uninvited.

'City of Sydney Improvement Board inspection!' he bellowed with ominous authority.

'The owner ain't 'ere, mister. Can yer come back later?' Mary tried to put them off. Then she squinted at the chairman with her failing eyesight. 'Ain't yer young Glengyle?'

'Mister Glengyle to you, missus. Watch how you speak and move out of the way. We have important business here.'

Mary stood defiantly in their path.

'Yer ain't got no business 'ere without the owners say so...'

She was pushed roughly to one side as the committee swarmed through the door. Still defiant, Mary called after them.

'With me stroke an' all I'm too old to fight yer, Glengyle, but if yer think yer can just push yer way in 'ere like that an' get away with it yer got another think comin' cos I ain't movin' fer no demolition gang.'

Glengyle ignored her and snapped his fingers impatiently for the secretary to hand over the demolition order for signing. But Mary had not given up.

'If yer think yer can just knock down perfectly good buildings cos yer hate the Askers, then yer gonna 'ave to do it over me dead body cos I ain't movin', Glengyle.'

Still ignoring her, Glengyle signed the document with a flourish and signaled to the waiting workmen to move in.

'All right, men, bring them down, both hovels. Raze them to the ground.'

As the gang moved in with their hammers and jemmies a committee member spoke up half-heartedly.

'Wait, Dudley. Let's get the old lady out first.'

'She's no lady and she can get herself out,' Glengyle retorted sarcastically.

'Wait!'

'Out of the way, Johnson. The order has been signed.'

Mary Smythe sat defiantly in a chair facing the door. As frail as she was, from the effects of arthritis, a stroke and old age, she could have made it to safety if she had chosen to. The committee started moving back to their carriages.

'This is murder, Glengyle!' she shouted defiantly.

'No it's not. It's suicide,' he retorted acidly.

Mary jumped in alarm as a large plank crashed to the floor inches from her but she quickly regained her defiant stance.

'Killing ain't nothin' new to a Glengyle. What's another murder?'

'Wash your mouth out, you insolent old hag.'

'Why don't yer come in 'ere an' do it yerself, yer snotty nosed brat?'

'I will if you don't shut your vulgar, convict mouth.'

Mary's anger had risen to the point where she was prepared to say anything and do anything to hit back at the Glengyles.

'Vulgar? I'll tell yer what's vulgar. The bully what raised yer 'e weren't yer real pa. He were so busy screwin' the whole town he couldn't 'ave 'ad time to screw yer ma too. You're a bastard.'

Glengyle snapped. He flew into a violent rage, picked up a three foot long plank of timber and charged at Mary.

Dan and Ruby turned the corner into the lane to see a crowd of men gathered outside their buildings and when they heard raised voices, they raced forward in alarm. Glengyle never saw the single blow to the head that felled him. Dan then turned on the demolition men shouting at them to stop. Meanwhile, Ruby raced to help her mother from the partly destroyed buildings.

'I won't move until they stop wreckin' our house. I'm gonna stay right 'ere!' Mary shouted to Ruby, as defiant as ever.

'We ain't gonna stop, missus,' the demolition ganger shouted back.

'Dan! Dan!' Ruby screamed and rushed from her mother to help Dan.

'Help! Quick, 'e's stopped breathin'. Help us, please,' she shouted.

The Improvement Board members found their chairman lying unconscious in the debris and they lifted him onto a carriage and took him away.

Polly turned the corner into the narrow lane and froze when she saw what was happening. For a moment she stood open-mouthed as her parcels slid from her grip and landed on the dusty lane at her feet. When she recovered her wits, she rushed forward and threw her arms around Ruby to comfort her.

'He's dead, Polly.'

'Who's dead, Gran?'

'Dan's dead. He must've 'ad a heart attack. I can't believe 'e's gone.'

Then Mary shuffled out of the wreckage to join them and the three of them sat down in the dust and cried. What else could possibly happen to what remained of their wretched clan?

The demolition men worked around them pulling the buildings down and loading the debris, including their furniture, crockery, bedding and ornaments onto a succession of carts. By early evening little evidence of the two large buildings remained on the site. One by one the lodgers returned from their work places, horrified to find only scattered bits of debris – and the body of Dan Martin. Even the lodgers' own personal effects had been taken away to be auctioned.

Some neighbors emerged from their houses to see what was happening at Ruby's Boarding House but few offered to help lest their houses would be next on the inspection list of the so-called improvement board. Loyal friends Ellen Wilkinson, Rose Petchell and Cedric Hill opened their homes to the Askers, but their troubles were far from over.

Chapter 111

A Dreadful Business

The police called at the three houses to interview family members about the death of Dudley Glengyle. Witnesses had told them of seeing Polly Asker striking Glengyle with a piece of timber after Dan Martin had dropped dead. After many hours of torrid questioning, Polly was arrested and charged with the murder of Dudley Glengyle.

'Wherever there's a Glengyle doing good work in the community there's always an Asker ready to do murder,' Constable Norman remarked coldly as he led Polly away. 'Like father, like daughter I say.'

Polly was too stunned to reply and Ruby tried to reassure her that everything would eventually turn out in Polly's favor.

'Don't worry about Cedric, me love. I'll take good care o' him for yer an' you'll be free again in next to no time. We know yer be innocent.'

That night Mary had another stroke. Five days later she died and the Askers made their second trip to the Sandhills cemetery in less than a week.

Within days Constable Norman returned to Caraher's Lane to remove Polly's six-year-old son, Cedric, and her twelve-year-old sister, Isobel. He said that Ruby was too old to care for them properly and since she was now homeless it was quite inappropriate to leave them in her care. Isobel pleaded with Norman not to take her and Cedric away. She said that she was old enough to work and support her six-year-old nephew until Polly was found not guilty and released.

'You wouldn't be able to support yourself, let alone your nephew, and as for Polly being freed, that will never happen,' Norman said without the slightest trace of pity.

After Norman and the two children had gone Ruby sat down and cried. The soul-destroying situation that she was now confronted with had absolutely no resemblance to the wonderful dream for the future that she and Andrew had cherished so long ago. The dream had first been shattered by Andrew's sudden death, leaving Ruby as a teenage widow with three babies. Although she did the best that she could life was never the same after that fateful day. Freddie's life had been an ongoing tragedy right to his dying day.

Maggie and Wilf seemed to be living somewhat uneventful lives in England and America. Maggie had never married, but had settled comfortably into the English village lifestyle. Wilf and his American wife lived in a place called Illinois. The most up to date information, received about two years earlier, was that Ruby now had American great grandchildren. To all intents and purposes the British and American Askers seemed to live normal, trouble-free lives. Although Ruby never worried about their welfare, she missed them terribly.

It was different for the Australian Askers. Of Freddie and Lizzie's twelve children six were dead, two were in jail, one lived overseas and two were drovers in the outback and were gone for years at a time. As far as she could ascertain the other one, Isobel, was in an orphanage along with Cedric, Ruby's only Australian great-grandchild. For the first time since Andrew's droving days she was on her own. She missed her mother too but consoled herself with the realization that Mary had lived to a good age and that she could not have been expected to hang on for much longer anyway. Likewise with Dan, who was a good man and she had enjoyed his company immensely but she had always expected that their time together might be limited. It was a shock the way Dan and Mary had gone but Ruby knew she would get over it. Then she thought about the younger ones who had died and her heart was filled with grief.

Later, when Ruby dried her eyes, she began to think about the living and what she could do to help them. One thing was certain, they would never give up.

The next day Ruby walked to George Street to ask the insurance company when she could expect a pay-out on her insurance claim for the two buildings. For the two hours they kept her waiting she sat in a corner of the dark-paneled lobby of the imposing building, a small, lonely, tragic figure. Then they informed her that her policy did not include cover for lawful demolition by the City of Sydney Improvement Board and there would be no payment from the insurance company. Ruby had lost everything and she still had Whatman's mortgage to settle.

When Whatman saw her he was about to greet her with the usual handshake and friendly chat, but he could see immediately that Ruby was distressed. So instead he put an arm around her shoulder and led her to a seat and listened while she poured her heart out. When she had finished he explained that he had been abroad for several weeks and had no idea what had happened in his absence. He had just arrived back in his chambers that very morning. Ruby could see that he was visibly shocked and his voice had a distinct tone of anger to it.

'This is really a very dreadful business, Mrs. Asker. People like the Glengyles have no right to hold public office. It's just terrible.'

'Ain't yer angry cos I've lost yer money with the buildings?'

'Yes, of course, but I can't blame you for that. And you haven't lost everything. You still own the land and that's more than some folks have got. Furthermore, I'm not going to be concerned about the mortgage. Under the circumstances it can wait.'

Whatman looked out through a high window thinking of a solution to Ruby's problems. She needed encouragement but what could he say to her that would give her hope? Then he remembered something that had happened just before he had left Sydney for his holiday abroad. He turned back to Ruby again.

'You've really had a dreadful time, Mrs. Asker. I'm terribly sorry to hear that there has been more tragedy. You said that Mr Martin died, didn't you?'

As he spoke he rose from his desk and went to a stack of files on a cabinet. He quickly found what he was looking for and sat down again.

'Yes. It was a heart attack.'

'I'm so sorry, Mrs. Asker.'

'We was gonna wed.'

'Yes. I know. He mentioned it when he came to see me.'

He studied the file in silence for a moment. Then he looked up again.

'Mrs. Asker, Daniel Martin has left his estate to you.'

Chapter 112

From the Ashes

Ruby looked at the lawyer in silence. She would rather have Dan and all the others back again than have Dan's money. Nothing could replace them, and she still owed the mortgage on two empty blocks of land. She could not understand why Whatman seemed relieved.

'Mrs. Asker, you'll survive to fight another day.'

'Wadda yer mean?'

'Daniel Martin was my client too. He told me that he had a heart condition that had been bothering him for a number of years and after you accepted his marriage proposal he came to me to have his affairs put in order just in case the worst should happen. As you would no doubt be aware he hadn't been married before and there'd been no family member to leave his estate to. Mr Martin had me prepare a will for him leaving everything to you. It's quite a large estate, not the largest that I've ever handled, but it's nevertheless going to place you in a very comfortable position. Did he ever discuss his assets with you?'

'No. He just said he'd salted a bit away and didn't have to worry about money.'

'Yes. A very humble gentleman, Mr Martin. "Salted a bit away," is an understatement if ever there was one. He had an interest in two quite large rural properties, shares in, let's see, five public companies, a house in Surrey Hills and savings at the bank. He had also talked of buying another house. So your financial situation should be the least of your worries, Mrs. Asker. You'll easily be able to pay off your mortgage, rebuild your boarding house, if you want to stay in that business. You'll be able to pay for Polly's defense, if you should so choose, and the bulk of the estate will still be intact. On the other hand, if you wished, you could retire and be financially independent.'

It was all too much for Ruby and suddenly she burst into tears again. Whatman walked around his desk and put a comforting arm around her again and spoke gently.

'You've been through such an ordeal that I find it simply amazing that you have the strength to go on. You're really a remarkable woman, Mrs. Asker. Now you just sit there for a moment and I'll ask my clerk to make you a cup of tea.'

'You're so kind, Mr Whatman, none of us could 'ave kept going without your help. Thank you so much.'

Whatman walked to a bookshelf and removed a large volume and thumbed through it for a moment before speaking again.

'Now with regard to the actions of the Improvement Board, I understand that they have immunity from claims for compensation and likewise the insurance companies don't pay out for lawful demolitions. However there is a possibility that we can take a case against the board on the ground that their action was unlawful in this case because they demolished perfectly sound buildings for purely vindictive reasons. I'm not saying that such an action would have any certainty of succeeding. Nothing is as clear cut as that in the law and this one may only have an outside chance of succeeding. However if a case for compensation did succeed, the award could be anywhere from less than the legal fees to a very substantial sum indeed. Compensation could be awarded for the loss of the buildings and contents, loss of business income and goodwill. Damages could also be awarded for personal suffering, loss of family members and loss of reputation. In addition to that a court might also award punitive damages against the board as a punishment for their wrongdoing. With regard to the insurance policy, the document and the law would need to be studied in detail before deciding to take a case against the insurance company. However, if the board action was illegal then the insurance company may still be obliged to pay out in full. But you'll have plenty of time to think about what you want to do with regard to the board and the insurance company.'

'Thanks fer explainin' it all to me, Mr Whatman. I'll think about it an' let yer know what I wanna do.'

'That's the spirit, Mrs. Asker. I'm pleased you're going to leave here in a much better frame of mind than when you came in. I'm sure you can now look forward to a good secure future. You certainly deserve it.'

'Thanks, Mr Whatman. You've been really wonderful, as always.'

'There's just one more thing, Mrs. Asker.' Whatman went to another cupboard and removed a large volume and Ruby immediately recognized Polly's hand-written volume of family history. 'Mr Martin brought this to me for advice and never came back to pick it up again.'

Ruby started to weep again.

'I'm sorry, Mr Whatman. I've realized just how important it is to us. I thought it had gone with everything else. It's about the only thing we've got left.'

'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you again. We can talk about it some other time if you like.'

'No. Go ahead.'

'Well, it seems that Polly left it with a young lady by the name of Wilkinson, I think, who was helping her with the spelling and grammar. That's how it escaped the fire. Later Polly discussed it with Mr Martin who agreed to show it to me for a legal opinion on it. It will be safe here for as long as you like to leave it.'

Ruby thumbed through the pages quietly for a moment and then handed it back to the lawyer for safe keeping.

Chapter 113

Polly's Trial

Dan Martin's estate was soon wound up releasing money for Ruby to start rebuilding in Caraher's Lane. She went to the jail as often as possible to visit Polly and also went to great lengths in her attempts to trace Isobel and Cedric. The police refused to provide any information. Every day she spent several hours walking the streets of Sydney, talking to anyone whom she thought might be able to offer information on their whereabouts. She visited all the orphanages that she knew of and walked passed many of the city's mansions in the hope of seeing Isobel with the servants.

Polly's trial for murder began in the same courtroom where Sir Walter Glengyle and later Freddie Asker had both stood trial. It was a daunting prospect for Polly whose previous court experience had been about losing. This time she was on trial for her life. Whatman had tried to convince her that the police case against her was rather flimsy and that she stood a good chance of being freed. He had also spent some time prior to the trial trying to convince the police that they really did not have a sound case and that they should withdraw the charge.

When Martin Fell rose to present the police case against Polly he dwelt at some length on the long-running feud between the Askers and the Glengyles as he tried to establish a case built on motive. He called two of the demolition men as witnesses and their evidence sounded credible, until they were cross-examined by Whatman. Then it was revealed that their accounts were in conflict on many points and the police case started to look weaker.

Anne McKean was called to give evidence to the effect that she had witnessed Polly Asker attacking Glengyle with a plank of timber. Once again the testimony was convincing until Whatman started his cross-examination.

'Mrs. McKean if my memory serves me correctly, at the start of your evidence you described yourself as an entertainment house proprietor. Is that correct?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Would you please explain to the court exactly what that involves?'

'No trouble, sir. It's a house where lonely folks can meet an' socialize in a large parlor or in private rooms. You'd be most welcome to call an' see for yerself, complimentary an' on the house like, so to speak.'

The invitation failed to alter Whatman's expression, tone or course. He was on a steadfast mission.

'I take it that what you really mean is that you run a brothel. Is that correct?'

'Oh no, sir. I've never done that,' McKean replied with over-acted indignation.

'Well, let's be very clear about your house of entertainment. Is it a legitimate business?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Is it a business that does everything right?'

'Yes, sir. Absolutely.'

'Including paying taxes?'

'Yes, sir... I mean... Yes. I pays taxes.'

'You don't sound very sure, Mrs. McKean. Should I ask you to come back to the court again tomorrow with proof of your tax payments so that the jury can be sure that they are listening to an honest witness?'

McKean looked flabbergasted.

'No, sir. Yer ain't gotta do that,' she said quickly. 'You just ask yer questions an' I'll give yer me truthful answers.'

'Thank you, Mrs. McKean. Now I'd like to ask you again about the house that you run. Is it a brothel?'

'Well, sort of, I suppose. But I'm really against that sort of thing an' I try to stop it happening. Yer know what I mean.'

'Mrs. McKean, I'm going to ask you a very simple question and I want you to give a simple 'yes' or 'no' answer. Is your house a brothel?'

There was a long pause.

'Yes, sir.'

'Thank you. Now do you know which other houses in your neighborhood are brothels and which are not?'

McKean suddenly looked vary scared.

'No, sir I wouldn't know anything about any of the others. It ain't none o' me business.'

'Have you ever known which houses are brothels and which ones are not?'

'No, sir. Like I said, it ain't never been none o' me business.'

'Then please tell the court why, when Sir Walter Glengyle was tried for raping Polly Asker, you told that court that Polly Asker was running a brothel in the house opposite your house in Caraher's Lane?'

'Oh! Did I say that?'

'Let me quote from the transcript of evidence. You were asked, "Are you saying she is a prostitute?" and your reply was, "That's about the gist of it, sir. Yeah, she's a pro and I don't want nothing to do with that." Do you recall giving that evidence?'

'If you say so, I suppose I must've, but I can't really remember it an' how do I know yer not 'avin' me on?'

'Do you wish to challenge the court record?'

'No, sir.'

'Then please tell the court why you gave evidence then that cannot be reconciled with what you have stated today?'

'I don't know, sir.'

'Come now, Mrs. McKean. Your evidence today is not consistent with the evidence you gave then. Please explain why you did not tell the truth.'

'I don't know, sir.'

'So you do admit that you did not tell the truth?'

'Yes, all right!'

'Thank you. Has someone threatened you in some way, perhaps with the closure of your brothel, or the demolition of your house, unless you agreed to give certain evidence?'

McKean shot a quick sideways glance at Constable Norman and then at a member of the Improvement Board seated in the public area.

'No, sir. It weren't nothin' like that, this time.'

'What do you mean by "this time?"

'I don't know what yer mean.'

'I mean did someone threaten you before you gave evidence at the Glengyle trial?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Please tell the court who that was.'

'It were Sir Walter, sir.'

'So let's be very clear about this. Did you lie to the court so that Sir Walter Glengyle would allow you to continue in business as a brothel keeper?'

'I didn't 'ave no choice, sir. I woulda been ruined.'

'Thank you, Mrs. McKean, I have no further questions.'

Chapter 114

Polly's Verdict

Whatman opened the case for Polly's defense by calling Ruby Asker as his first witness. Ruby told the court how she and Dan Martin had been out walking and returned to find a gang of demolition men wrecking her boarding house. She said that above the noise of the workmen and their tools she could hear raised voices. As she and Martin raced to try to stop the demolition people she realized that the raised voices belonged to her mother and Dudley Glengyle. Both were extremely agitated and she saw Glengyle pick up a piece of timber and charge at her mother in a menacing way. Suddenly Martin, who had run ahead of her, also picked up a piece of timber and ran at Glengyle, hitting him on the head an instant before Glengyle would have struck Ruby's mother with his piece of timber. Glengyle fell to the ground and Ruby rushed passed him to rescue her mother from the danger of the partly collapsed building. Then she saw Martin lying on the ground and she immediately went to his aid and noticed that he had stopped breathing. Polly did not arrive on the scene until some minutes after Martin had felled Glengyle. The members of the Improvement Board had already left and were some distance down the lane before Ruby and Dan arrived but they came back again to collect their injured chairman and they had already departed again before Polly arrived. Polly could not have been near the building at the time when the fatal blow was struck.

Under cross-examination from prosecutor Martin Fell, Ruby stuck firmly to her story and Whatman could see that the jury was impressed with her and her evidence. After about five minutes Fell cut his cross-examination short when he could see that the witness was unshakable.

Whatman called Ellen Wilkinson who testified that she first became aware of trouble at the boarding house when she heard raised voices, which was rather unusual at that address. When she looked through her window she saw the demolition team moving in and she went to see if she could help her neighbors. She saw Martin and Glengyle lying on the ground with Ruby bending over Martin. Mary Smythe was sitting inside the building. She looked for Polly but did not see her until a few minutes later when she saw her approaching from the shops. When Polly saw what had happened she dropped her parcels and ran to help. Again Fell was unable to shake the witness.

Fell began summing up his case for the jury. It was a long rambling diatribe during which he again dwelt on the history of the Askers and their long-standing feud with the Glengyles. He also made some capital from the fact that the accused had not been called to give evidence. He put it to the jury that by so doing she had weakened her own case because if she had done nothing wrong she would have had nothing to fear from a few simple questions.

In contrast, Whatman kept his summing-up brief and to the point. He felt that he had good reliable witnesses and there was no need to labor the points they had made so well. He briefly referred to the prosecution witnesses as unreliable, confused and downright dishonest. Did the jury not think that she had suffered enough without also being put through the ordeal of giving evidence? The decision not to call her, he told the jury, was made by him not the accused. Although she was quite willing to give evidence he felt that the defense witnesses had established her case beyond any doubt.

Finally, the judge gave his summing-up for the jury in a clear and concise voice. He reminded them of the gravity of the charge and the responsibilities of the jury and how an accused person must be proved to be guilty beyond reasonable doubt before a guilty verdict can be returned. On the other hand, he said the jury should not lightly disregard the evidence of the prosecution's witnesses, all of whom appeared to be law-abiding citizens. At that point some juror's eyes switched from the judge and rested briefly on Anne McKean. The judge continued by pointing out to the jury that while there may have been some minor discrepancies in the witness's evidence, the jury must decide if they were of sufficient magnitude to alter their credibility. Then he praised the police for the manner in which they had carried out their investigation and referred to them as honorable gentlemen carrying out a very necessary public function for which they seldom received recognition.

While he spoke, Whatman scribbled notes in preparation for an appeal in the event that the verdict went against Polly. When the judge had finished his summing up Whatman looked quickly across at the jury. Most had stopped fidgeting and some stared open-mouthed at the judge. Others looked scathingly at the police officers.

Polly sat dejected, downcast and exhausted. She had prepared herself for a guilty verdict and she just wanted to get it over with. She knew that the penalty would be death, just like her beloved father who had given his life for her. She was beginning to despair of ever finding her precious Cedric again and there was little else to live for. She was still looking at the floor in a trance when the jury filed out of the courtroom to consider their verdict.

The band of Asker supporters waiting in the courtroom for the jury's verdict was smaller than at the earlier trials. Only Ruby, Rose, Ellen and the Hills had turned out to support her. Their wait was short.

As the jurors filed back into the courtroom Polly stared vacantly at the floor in front of her. Whatman, ever vigilant for telling signs, saw that some jurors seemed to be relieved; some looked at Polly hoping to catch her eye. Ruby also sensed the positive ambience and wanted to rush over and embrace her crestfallen granddaughter. The foreman of the jury waited patiently.

'The accused will stand to hear the verdict,' the judge uttered dispassionately without looking up.

For a moment Polly failed to emerge from the shelter of her trance.

'Asker! Stand up immediately!' the judge ordered.

Suddenly Polly came to her feet and turned to face the twelve men who had just decided her fate.

'Gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a verdict?' the judge asked, still without looking up.

'We have, your honor,' the foreman responded in a strong, clear voice.

'Do you find the accused, Polly Winifred Asker, guilty or not guilty of the murder of Dudley Bannock Kirkton Glengyle?'

The judge still had his eyes turned down toward his paperwork and the foreman gave a little cough to clear his throat before continuing. He wanted to deliver the jury's verdict while holding the full attention of the judge. For a moment one could have heard a pin drop.

'I'm waiting, Mr Foreman,' the judge growled.

'Thank you, sir.' The foreman replied as he held the judge's eyes. 'We find the accused not guilty,' he said calmly before turning to smile at Polly.

Chapter 115

The Aftermath

The court was thrown into turmoil as Polly's supporters, led by Ruby, rushed to embrace her.

'Is it the verdict of all of you, Mr Foreman?' the judge shouted above the commotion with a clear note of annoyance.

'It is, your honor, and the jury is unanimous in its call for an official inquiry into the conduct of all the recent trials and police investigations involving members of the Asker family. The jury is of the opinion that Miss Polly and other members of her family have been subjected to police persecution, harassment and perjury.'

'Balderdash, Mr Foreman! Piffle!' the judge roared indignantly. 'That's not your business.'

'We have just made it our business,' the foreman interjected defiantly. 'And we expect our recommendation to be acted upon promptly.'

Ignoring the foreman the judge turned to Polly.

'You are discharged, Asker. You're free to go but let this be a warning to you. You might not get off so lightly next time.'

The judge's words fell on deaf ears and the pandemonium continued in the courtroom as the clerk and the police tried to restore order.

Amid the confusion Whatman stood tall. It was a sweet victory for a lawyer more accustomed to losing against a corrupt establishment. He caught the eye of the foreman and they exchanged glances as the jury filed out without waiting to be dismissed. Whatman noticed that a reporter had started pestering Polly with questions and he hurried to her side.

'Miss Asker would appreciate some privacy. I doubt very much if she will feel inclined to grant an interview to the Sydney Daily Times.'

The journalist opened his mouth to speak again but changed his mind when he saw the withering expression on the lawyer's face. Whatman saw Grover Fairweather of the Sydney Tribune News waiting patiently in the background and he made a mental note to suggest to Polly later that perhaps he should be given an exclusive interview when she felt ready for it.

'Thanks, Mr Whatman.' Ruby took Polly by the arm and turned her towards the door. 'Let's get yer home, me lovely.'

But Polly, still in shock, knew that there was one important thing she had to do first.

'How do I thank yer, Mr Whatman? You've done so much fer all of us,' Polly said as she held out her small hand to the lawyer.

'It's my job, Polly, and for you it's a pleasure. I hope there will be better times ahead for you.'

'The best way for better times to start will be when I get me Cedric back again.'

'I'd like you to come and see me about that and other matters. But first you must go home, get some rest and proper food and start your life again.'

'I will, Mr Whatman.'

Suddenly impulse took over and she caught him completely by surprise. She threw her arms around his large shoulders, stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him on the cheek and for once the articulate lawyer was stymied.

As the triumphant group made their way through the streets into Cribb's Lane and then Caraher's Lane, some of the locals came out to congratulate them. The mood of the locals had changed during the course of the trial but not everyone had been prepared to change their stance. Vernon MacIntosh looked awkwardly away from the approaching group and shuffled inside his house. Then they stopped at the construction site where Ruby's new boarding house was nearing completion.

'Oh my, Gran. It's going to be a grand building, ain't it?' Polly said, her enthusiasm suddenly returned.

Chapter 116

Brine and Cardwell

A week later Ruby and Polly were seated in Whatman's office again.

'I feel like I's got a new chance in life, Mr Whatman, an' it's all thanks to you. Yer was brilliant.'

'Well, that's my job, Polly,' Whatman replied modestly. 'The important thing is that we all knew that you had not murdered anyone.'

He paused briefly before continuing in a hushed tone.

'And you had a sympathetic jury.'

'Yeah. Much better than them other juries,' Ruby added. 'By the way, I seen that look yer gave that foreman bloke. What was that all about?'

Whatman smiled awkwardly for a moment before leaning forward to speak in his most confidential tone.

'You must not breathe a word of this to anyone if we are to avoid an appeal or a retrial. Normally the police can stack a jury with their own people to get the verdict that they want. I think that in their enthusiasm to butter up the witnesses they forgot to research the jury. Have you heard of the Tolpuddle Martyrs – a group of Dorset laborers who were transported here for trying to form a workers' union? One of them was a man called James Brine who was assigned to a master, a magistrate called Robert Scott, at a place called Glindon. Scott set him to work digging post holes with his bare feet. When his feet were too sore and bloodied to continue, Scott had him standing up to his chest in a creek for seventeen hours a day washing sheep. When he was stricken by a fever he asked Scott for his regulation issue of shoes, clothing and bedding, only to be told by Scott that he could expect nothing in his first six months and if he had the audacity to ask again he would be flogged. Brine survived his ordeal with Scott, by some miracle, and later he fathered a son, Wesley Brine, and that's where the police slipped up. Wesley Brine has led a faultless life, never drawing attention to himself the way his father did in Dorset, but also never forgetting his convict heritage. He didn't serve on our jury for the benefit of the establishment. Also on the jury was a man called William Cardwell who was born on board a ship carrying his convict mother to our shores. It was one of the last convict ships to arrive and he grew up witnessing the most atrocious brutality and inhumanities enacted on his mother by a succession of masters over many years. Once again the police slipped up because Cardwell has also led an unblemished life. These two remarkable gentlemen are really the ones who saved your life for you, Polly. It was they who swayed the rest of the jury. But you must remember, not a word of this to anyone, or you may find the verdict overturned and a new trial just might, heaven forbid, result in a guilty verdict.'

Then Whatman raised the matter of Cedric and Isobel.

'Unfortunately, Polly, your acquittal does not mean that the adoption of your son and your sister can automatically be reversed. If the adoption has been completed legally, then that, unfortunately, is the end of that. I've tried every legal maneuver I can think of and spoken to every official that I thought might be able to help and I've achieved nothing. I'm sorry.'

'We won't give up, Mr Whatman. We'll just keep on till we find 'em,' Polly said determinedly.

'That's the stuff.' Whatman encouraged. 'Keep looking and I'm sure one day you'll all be reunited. Cedric could be with a childless couple somewhere and Isobel could be working as an assigned servant in a wealthy household, or in a factory. But don't give up. Now I hesitate to raise the next matter while you still have the worry of the children on your minds. However time is moving on and we need to make a decision on the matter of proceeding against the Improvement Board.'

Ruby thought about it for a few minutes while Whatman brought her up to date on the matter.

'I've got an idea, Mr Whatman. If there's a chance of winning I'd like to do it an' give the money we win to some needy folks – like a charity. I don't really need it me self now. But if we's only got an outside chance o' winnin' then I'd rather not cos it's only gonna stir up more o' that bad blood, ain't it? An' that's been goin' on fer too long as it is. So what's our real chances?'

'To be honest, Mrs. Asker, it's probably less than fifty-fifty. It's a long shot. Remember, you'd be up against the establishment again.'

Ruby stared through the high window for a moment. Outside the top of the blooming jacaranda tree could be seen with its beautiful mauve flowers gently brushing the glass. It was a peaceful sight and Ruby believed that she could enjoy some peace in her life for a change. She turned back to Whatman.

'In that case, Mr Whatman, lets let sleepin' dogs sleep.'

Chapter 117

The Young Prisoners

When Senior Constable Norman placed Cedric and Isobel in a cell he left them for several hours without food or drink. The cell was stifling hot and smelled of vomit, urine and stale perspiration. They were shocked and terrified. Isobel tried to comfort her young nephew.

Some time later they heard voices from somewhere in the station. One voice they recognized as Norman's and they tried to listen to the conversation. They heard their own names but little else. Footsteps sounded on the floorboards and Norman appeared in front of them with a stranger. The man studied Isobel in silence for a moment and then turned to leave without speaking. The voices continued in the watch house for a few minutes until they heard the outside door being locked. All was quiet except for the continuous snoring of a drunken prisoner in another cell. Some time later they heard the lock being turned again followed by voices in the watch house.

'The girl has been assigned to a factory owner but the lad is still available. He's seven years old, healthy and intelligent. He just needs a good home,' Norman said in a voice that was muffled by the interior walls and the snoring prisoner.

'We should like to view him, thank you, constable,' a woman's voice said.

'Certainly, Lady Robertson. Please come this way.'

The door leading to the cell block opened and a middle aged couple peered into the dingy cell where Isobel and Cedric sat on the hard floor holding each other close and staring back at the visitors with wide, terrified eyes.

'What's your name, lad?' the man asked in an stern tone.

Cedric stared back, afraid to speak.

'Speak up, lad,' Norman ordered.

'Cedric Asker.'

'Cedric Asker, sir!' Norman corrected him. 'Stand up so Sir Herbert and Lady Robertson can see you. If they like you they will take you with them to their home and you'll be their son.'

Cedric was horrified and stared back at them not knowing what to say. Then Isobel spoke for him.

'He don't want no new ma an' pa. Leave 'im alone.'

'You speak only when spoken too, Miss Isobel,' Norman said in a harsh tone.

'I'm 'is auntie an' it's me job to protect 'im,' she protested.

'I won't tell you again. Speak only when spoken to or you'll be punished very severely.'

Norman turned to Cedric again.

'Now lad, I want you to answer any questions Sir Herbert and Lady Robertson have to ask you.'

Cedric continued to stare in wide-eyed fear.

'We want to adopt you, Cedric. Do you know what that means?' Lady Robertson asked.

'No.'

'It means that we will be your new mother and father and you will be our son and you will come to live with us in our house. Do you understand?'

'No.'

'What is it that you don't understand?' Sir Herbert asked.

'I don't want no new ma. I've already got me ma, an' Isobel, an' Granny Ruby. I wanna go home.'

'You can't go home to your mother, Cedric. She's in jail,' Norman explained tactlessly.

'That's because you locked 'er up when yer 'ad no right to. Why don't yer leave us be?' Isobel shouted at him and then burst into tears.

'Show respect, girl,' Norman shouted. 'As for you, Cedric, stop your sniveling or I'll give you something to snivel about.'

Sir Herbert decided that he could persuade the lad to go with them if he explained what the future would hold for him.

'Come now, lad. Stop blubbering and listen to me. We're not going to hurt you. We want to take you to our home and give you a much better life than you could ever have here in Sydney with your mother. We live in a fine home. You'll want for nothing and we'll give you a far better education than your mother could possibly give you. What more could you want?'

'Me ma! I want me ma! I don't wanna go with you, or nobody else. I just want me ma.'

Lady Robertson had already turned away from Cedric.

'We would like to discuss the arrangements now, if you please, constable.'

The Robertsons and the constable retreated to the watch house where, even with the door closed, the children could hear the negotiations taking place.

'We would like to take young Cedric,' they heard Sir Herbert saying. 'But forty pounds is too much. I think that twenty-five is more the value.'

'It's not for me to set the price, Sir Herbert. It's a standard fee set by all the officers.'

'The boy is undernourished and frail. He badly needs outfitting and he's lacking in respect and obedience. He's going to be hard work for Lady Robertson. Thirty-five pounds, constable.'

'I'm sorry, sir. The fee is already set and I can't change it. That's cheap as a matter of fact. Orphans, like Cedric's aunt, when they are sold to factories, go for fifty pounds.'

'Alright, constable. Forty pounds then.'

Chapter 118

The Adoption

Within minutes the tearful children were separated. Cedric was whisked away in a hansom cab to Horden's Outfitters for a complete outfitting before the Robertson's took him to a luxurious hotel in the heart of the city where they would stay for the night. Cedric was starting to understand that his life could be very different from that point onward. Escape was never to be far from his mind. As they ate their dinner in the privacy of their hotel suite, Sir Herbert explained to Cedric what they had planned.

'Very early in the morning the hansom cab will call for us again and we will go to the railway station. Have you been on a train before?'

'No, sir. I ain't been outta the Rocks before.'

'Well, son, you're going to have an exciting adventure. Have you heard about the new train that takes people from Sydney to Melbourne?'

'I remember Mr Martin tellin' me about it once. He said he'd been on it. Are we going to Melbourne?'

'Yes, son. We're going to Melbourne on the train right after breakfast tomorrow morning.'

When they had finished their dinner the Robertson's helped Cedric get ready for bed. When they too had settled down for the night Cedric lay facing the wall and silently cried for his mother, Isobel and Ruby. Tomorrow he would try to escape.

The next day another new experience awaited Cedric at the train station. He had no idea that the train would be so huge. As they walked passed the puffing engine the clouds of hissing steam scared the seven-year-old but he looked up at the engine driver and caught his eye.

'Gidday, me little mate,' the driver called down to him. 'Goin' to Melbourne, are yer?'

'Yeah.' Cedric continued to stare hard at the driver until Lady Robertson tugged at his arm.

'Hurry along please, young man. We don't want to miss the train, do we?'

Eventually the train whistle blew loudly and the carriage jerked forward amid clouds of hissing steam and billowing black smoke. The journey to Melbourne had begun. Cedric looked back to where he thought the Rocks would be but saw only unfamiliar buildings.

In the privacy of their own small cabin, Sir Herbert decided it was time to prepare the lad.

'Now, listen here, young man,' Sir Herbert began. 'Are you listening, lad?'

Cedric had his face turned to watch the houses speedily slipping passed the train window. He wanted to cry again as he thought about his mother. Slowly he turned his sad face toward his kidnappers.

'As I was saying, it's most important that you have a new name. Your mother and I have decided that from now on you shall be called Charles Herbert Robertson.'

'Me mother ain't here,' the lad protested.

'I'm talking about your new mother, Charles. You must never use your old name ever again. Do you understand?'

'Why? Cedric's me name, ain't it?'

'No, not anymore. Never mind why. You must never, ever, use it again. So look at me boy and tell me what your new name is.'

'Okay,' Cedric sighed. 'Charles Herbert Robertson.'

'That's excellent, Charles. Well done.'

'But it ain't really me name, is it?'

'Damn you, boy!' Robertson suddenly grabbed the lad by an ear and twisted it until he cried out with pain. 'Don't even say that! You now have one name and one name only. Charles Herbert Robertson! Do you understand? Charles Herbert Robertson?'

'Let me go! You're hurtin' me.'

'Then say it again. Come on.'

'Charles Herbert Robertson.'

'That's better, Charles,' Lady Robertson said.

After a time the houses were left behind and Cedric watched as pastures, hills and forests slipped by. Outside Sydney there was a whole new world he had not known about. If his ma had been with him he could have enjoyed the experience. It was almost an adventure. Towards evening the hills slid away behind them and in all directions there were only the flat, dry plains with a few gum trees here and there. Eventually his eyes became heavy and sleep overtook him.

Chapter 119

The Governess

During the night the train pulled into the station at Albury and everyone transferred to another train on the other side of the station. As they crossed the platform, Cedric noticed a woman looking directly at him. He stared right back at her with the same serious intent that he had used earlier with the cab driver and train driver. Silently he tried to tell her that he was in trouble and needed help. She'd looked back and his hopes had begun to rise. But then she turned abruptly away and hurried to board the northbound train.

Throughout the night the new train moved through the darkness, stopping occasionally for a few minutes at small towns. As they gathered speed after each stop Cedric listened to the rhythm of the wheels on the track. It would be great to be a train driver roaring across the countryside, blasting the whistle and leaving a trail of black smoke that could be seen for miles. Yes, when he grew up he would be a train driver, or maybe a hansom cab driver, or a hotel porter. It sure was a long way to Melbourne. His eyelids became heavy again and he dozed off to sleep. When he woke up again the sun was shining and the train was still speeding through the countryside.

Late in the day they arrived at the Melbourne station where the Robertson's private carriage and driver were waiting. They traveled a short distance through the suburbs to a large mansion surrounded by acres of trees, gardens and lawns.

'This is going to be your new home, Charles. Do you like it?' Lady Robertson asked him.

Cedric stood by the side of the carriage and gaped at the massive building.

'Jeez! It's big. Is yer rich, or somethin'? It's even bigger than Granny Ruby's boarding 'ouse. I wish me ma could see it.'

'Don't ever mention her again, Charles. I'm your mother now and you can call me Mother or Lady Robertson and you will call your father Sir or Father. Do you understand, Charles?'

'Yeah, okay,' he replied reluctantly.

'Please, Charles. It's not 'yeah'. In this household we say 'yes'. You shall learn to speak correctly.'

Just then the door of the mansion opened and a beautiful and graceful lady stepped out and came towards them. She was about the same age as Polly and Cedric even thought that she looked slightly like her. She smiled warmly as she approached.

'Now, Charles, this is Miss Roker and she will show you to your room. Miss Roker is to be your governess. Do you know what a governess is, Charles?'

'A guvva-what?'

'A governess.'

'Na. What's a governess?'

'No, Charles. Don't say 'na'. It's 'no'. It's not correct and it does not belong in our household. It's the way vulgar people talk. A governess is a teacher, guide and companion. Miss Roker will be with you constantly except for Sundays when she will be excused for the day. Now run along with Miss Roker and she will show you your room and the rest of the house. Sir Herbert and I will see you again when it is time to dine.'

As he climbed the stairs with Amy Roker, Cedric decided that she seemed friendly enough and he chatted away quite happily.

'Sir and Lady says I'm Charles Herbert Robertson but yer can call me Cedric if yer like, cos that's me real name, but it's a secret.'

'Yes, alright. It will be our special secret. However, I will not be allowed to call you that because the Robertsons have adopted you and you are now making a completely new start with your life.' She looked quickly at him and smiled. 'You won't mind if I call you Charles, will you?'

'Okay. Yer can call me Charles cos I'm startin' to like yer, Miss Roker.'

'We could be good friends, Charles, because I'm starting to like you, too.'

'Yeah. We could be good mates, couldn't we?'

'Yes. Good mates.'

'I wish I could be with me ma.'

'Why are you not with her?'

'Cos she's in jail.'

'Oh! My goodness, that's terrible. Why is she in jail?'

'Cos the cops reckon she murdered Glengyle.'

'Oh! That is terrible, Charles. Why did she do that?'

'She didn't. Mr Martin murdered Glengyle.'

'So why didn't they put him in jail?'

'Cos after 'e murdered Glengyle 'e dropped down dead an' they took 'im to the Sandhills. So then they said me ma done it.'

By then Amy Roker was convinced that her new charge had an extremely fanciful imagination but she decided to go along with his chatter.

'Well why did Mr Martin murder Glengyle?'

The seven-year-old suddenly stopped and turned to face his governess with his hands on his hips and his little jaw protruding indignantly.

'Cos the bugger knocked our friggin' 'ouse down! Shit, Miss Roker!'

'Charles! Charles! You must never use words like that.'

Amy Roker quickly turned her face away so that he would not see the smile on her face.

'It's true, Miss Roker. It's true,' he insisted. 'The bugger knocked our friggin' 'ouse down.'

'Charles, even when something is true you must never use words like that. Swear words are not allowed in this house.'

Still struggling to contain her mirth, she realized that she would have her hands full with this one. They came to his room and she showed him in. It was a large room and at first he could not believe that he was going to have it all to himself. There was a big window with a view overlooking the lawn and gardens. He could see many different kinds of trees and hear birds singing. A gentle breeze rustled through the leaves and in the distance he could see a few small puffy clouds floating across the city. He could feel the warmth of the sun through the window and for the first time since he had last seen his mother he felt happy and contented. He liked Miss Roker even though she could never replace his ma. As for the Sir and Lady, well, he would just have to put up with them until he escaped.

Chapter 120

An Unlikely Tale

Amy Roker showed him right through the huge building including numerous bedrooms, a study, huge ballroom, dining room, parlor and kitchen and her bedroom which was just across the passageway from his. Outside, she showed him the servants' quarters, garden shed and stables.

'We live in Caraher's Lane but we ain't got a house no more. We 'ad two 'ouses but one was burned down an' the other was knocked down like I told yer. So now we ain't got a house no more.'

'Where's Caraher's Lane?'

'The Rocks.'

'The Rocks?'

'Yeah. That's in Sydney.'

'Oh. You're from Sydney. I've never been there. What's it like, Charles?'

'It's beaut, Miss Roker. Some day, when I'm older, I'll take yer there. You'll love it, Miss Roker.'

'Alright, Charles. I'd love that but now it's time to wash your hands and face and get changed for dinner.'

'Change what?'

'I mean change into some of those nice new clothes that Sir Charles and Lady Robertson bought for you. That way you'll look your best for your first dinner in your new home. Won't that be grand?'

'It'd be grand if me ma was here too.'

'Will I meet her when you take me to Sydney?'

'If she's outta jail by then.'

'Well I'm sure she'll be out by then, if she did not murder Glengyle. That's how it works with the law, Charles. You must always obey the law and always tell the truth.'

'I know, but me ma says the law is a friggin' ass.'

'Alright. Now please run along and get washed and I'll help you choose something to wear for dinner.'

'Alright, Miss Roker.'

Cedric started washing his face with Amy looking on. Suddenly he stopped and turned to face her.

'Why's they called sir an' lady?'

'Because Queen Victoria has given them something called a knighthood for services to the community.'

Cedric continued washing but she could see he was trying to understand her answer. Then he stopped again and looked directly at her with a serious expression on his little face.

'They say me Uncle Charlie is always doin' community service but 'e ain't called no sir or lady.'

'Oh, really? What kind of community service does he do?'

'I dunno exactly, but it's somethin' in Darlinghurst jail.'

He was silent again and did not notice that the governess had turned her face away from him again.

'I wish me ma was here, or Granny Ruby. I love Granny Ruby.'

'I'm sure you do, Charles. Come now and I'll get you dressed and take you down for dinner.'

'I wonder what happened to Auntie Isobel.'

Downstairs in the dining room, after Amy Roker had gone to eat with the other servants, Lady Robertson showed the boy where to sit at the huge dining table.

'That will be your place, Charles. You will always sit there whilst dining and, as at all other times, you will only speak when spoken to. Do you understand, Charles?'

'Why?'

'Never mind why, son,' Sir Herbert said sternly. 'That is the rule.'

'But why is it the rule?'

Suddenly Sir Herbert reached out and grabbed his ear and twisted it until it hurt.

'Because that is the rule and you must never question the rules.'

The lad stared at him in shocked disbelief and slowly tears came to his eyes.

'Remember, speak only when spoken to and stop blubbering this instant.'

'I want me ma,' he cried.

Lady Robertson rose from her chair, moved quickly around the table and took hold of the lad, bending him over and giving him a swift smack on his bottom.

'Let that be a lesson to you, Charles, you crude little Tartar. You are never to mention her ever again, in this house or anywhere. I am your mother now and as such you shall show respect and obedience.'

'Keep yer friggin' 'ands off me, yer friggin' galah! I ain't gonna stay in this duff shanty no longer cos yer piss me off!'

Cedric lashed out with his feet in the direction of Lady Robertson and ran from the room.

At the top of the stairs, he slammed the door violently as Sir Herbert's heavy footsteps came after him. He ran to the window and tried to force it upwards but it was too heavy for him and there was no escape. He turned to face his captor and ran at him with his little fists flying.

'Let me be, yer friggin' galah! Yer not the boss o' me!'

But Sir Herbert easily lifted him off the floor with one large hand and carried him, kicking and thrashing, back down to the dining room.

'You'll learn respect, boy! From now on, every time you say a single word out of place, or disobey an order, you'll get the thrashing of your life. Forget the ratbag family you left in Sydney. This is Melbourne where respectable people live and you'll never see Sydney again ever, if I have anything to do with it.'

Robertson lifted him onto his chair and instructed him to eat his dinner.

'I ain't hungry no more.'

'Be quiet and just eat!' Lady Robertson ordered.

In a final desperate act of defiance, Cedric swept his dinner plate off the table. It struck a chair on the way, shattered into a dozen pieces and spilled its contents far and wide across the carpet.

'So there!' he shouted angrily. 'Stick it up yer arse!'

'That's it, Henrietta.' Sir Herbert's fist slammed down onto the tabletop. 'Fetch some rope. We'll tie the little urchin up. Ask Emily to bring some more food and he can sit here until he eats it.'

Chapter 121

The Rebel

He was soon bound to his chair and another plate of food was placed in front of him. The Robertson's retired to the parlor, leaving him alone in the great dining room. For a few minutes he cried continually and only stopped when his thoughts turned to planning an escape. An hour later the Robertsons came back into the room.

'Well, have you decided to start behaving?' Sir Herbert asked.

With a sullen face Cedric stared at the wall and remained silent.

'Speak up lad.'

Cedric's eyes remained fixed on the wall.

'Suit yourself, young man. We are going to retire for the night and you can stay here all night for all I care. Perhaps in the morning you might decide to behave like a gentleman.'

Sir Herbert extinguished the lamps and strode from the room, leaving Cedric securely roped to the chair. He sat quietly in the darkness listening to the sounds of the night. It was eerie and he was afraid. The fire in the great fireplace had long since dwindled to a few mildly glowing embers and he watched as even those flickered and finally disappeared. He began to feel cold and then he began to shiver.

Cedric knew that if he stayed in the chair all night the cold might be more than he could bare. It was time to escape. Patiently he tried to move his arms inside the ropes. He tried bringing his hands together and found that he had just enough room to make them touch and, by straining a little further, he could use his right hand to touch the rope around his left hand. The rope cut deeply into his right wrist as he struggled to free his left hand.

Eventually he managed to slip one hand free and then, using his feet to slide the chair towards the table, he picked up the table knife and tried to sever the rope around his left hand. But the knife seemed too blunt so he tried to get his free hand around the back of the chair to where the rope had been knotted. He could feel the knot behind him but failed to undo it. He tried again with the knife and eventually he was free. His limbs felt cold and stiff but he crept quietly towards the door, freedom and the road to Caraher's Lane.

Carefully he turned the handle on the big door, trying hard not to awaken the Robertsons. As the door opened a crack and he screamed in terror and felt the hair rise on the back of his neck as a huge black animal lunged at him from the darkness, its eyes glowing, teeth bared. He recoiled like a spring and slammed the door shut. He had forgotten about Buster the guard dog, which Miss Roker had told him always slept on the front steps of the mansion.

Shaking with shock and the cold, he crept back into the dining room and searched in the darkness for the stairs. At the top of the stairs he gently turned the handle on Miss Roker's door and crept inside. Her bed was empty. He started crying again. It wasn't fair. His best friend – his only friend now – had deserted him when he most needed her. Cold, tired, hungry and scared, he climbed into her bed and cried himself to sleep.

When he awoke again it was daylight. He tried to work out if it was morning or afternoon but there seemed to be no way of knowing. He listened for sounds but the mansion seemed to be all in quietness except for the sounds of the crows, galahs and kookaburras in the trees.

Desperately hungry and thirsty, he put his head out the door and looked along the passage to find that it was deserted. So he crept down the stairs in search of food and drink. There was nobody about anywhere, it seemed. The broken plate and food stains on the carpet from the night before had been cleaned up and for a moment he wondered if it had all been just a bad dream.

The kitchen was deserted so he went to the large pantry and gorged himself on cold beef, raw carrot and a long drink straight from a huge milk jug. Then putting an apple in his pocket for later he headed for the door again. It was locked. Undeterred, he went around and tried all the other ground floor doors but found them all securely locked. He checked the windows only to find that all the latches were fastened so tightly that he was unable to move them. He was trapped.

Wondering where everyone had gone, he went to his own room and sat looking out over the beautiful garden. It was warm in the sun and he spent an age gazing out at the trees and listening to the sounds of galahs and lorikeets as they fluttered about. Wouldn't it be wonderful to have a carefree life like the birds, living among the trees and flowers, free to come and go as they pleased? They could even fly to Sydney, or right around the world, however far that was, with no one to tell them what to do.

He was brought back to reality by the sound of horses' hooves and carriage wheels on the gravel driveway. Two black mares trotted briskly with their ears pricked. The uniformed liveryman made a splendid sight atop the shiny carriage while Sir Herbert and Lady Robertson sat proudly inside, wearing their finest outfits.

As the horses halted beneath the portico Cedric leapt into bed, pulled the covers around his face and pretended to be sound asleep. He heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs and then the covers were unceremoniously ripped from him and his pretended sleep was abruptly turned into wide-eyed terror as he stared into the faces of his captors.

'You cannot fool us, Charles. We know everything that you do, my boy. We know that you tried to escape last night. We know that you slept in Miss Roker's room and we knew that you were not asleep now. You will never be able to fool us,' Sir Herbert admonished.

'I want Miss Roker,' Cedric whimpered, fearful that something dreadful had happened to her and the other servants.

'Miss Roker does not work on Sundays. You will have to do without her today,' Lady Robertson replied. 'If you had been obedient you could have come to church with us this morning.'

So that's where they had been. Then he remembered something he had once heard his mother say.

'God never done nothin' for the poor.'

Sir Herbert struck him a swift slap on the face.

'There will be no more blasphemy in this house. Do you hear?'

'Let me be! Everyone is allowed their own opinion 'bout churches an' God.'

'You are a nasty little heathen, Charles, and next Sunday, whether you like it or not, you will be going to church. It will do you good to listen to the sermon and to meet some decent, God-fearing folk,' Lady Robertson chided him.

It was an age before Cedric could speak again. He sat on his bed staring into space and slowly the tears trickled down his face again.

'I don't wanna go to no church,' he sobbed. 'I want me ma, an' Auntie Isobel.'

Lady Robertson's face suddenly reddened. She caught hold of him roughly, removed his trousers and smacked his bare buttocks.

'There!' she stormed. 'That will teach you not the mention those names again in this house.'

Cedric flew at her with fists flying.

'Then let me outta yer house, yer friggin'galah!'

A single blow from Sir Herbert sent him flying across the room where he hit his head and shoulder on the bedpost. Before he could recover Sir Herbert was right onto him. With his hands held tightly around his neck, he shook him violently.

'Enough! Enough! Your insolence is going to be the death of you,' he shouted as his eyes blazed with anger.

After a moment he stopped the shaking, slowly released his grip and let Cedric collapse to the floor. For another brief moment he stood over the child watching him sob his heart out. Then he turned and walked out the door. Lady Robertson watched him for a moment longer before following her husband through the door, leaving Cedric alone.

Chapter 122

Cooperation

After the sound of the Robertson's footsteps on the stairs had faded, Cedric slowly pulled himself up from the floor and moved closer to the window. It seemed that the only place where he could find peace was at the window. His body ached as he moved and for the first time he realized that his vision was blurred. The closest tree was the magnolia and he had trouble focusing on it, but looking further away a row of beautiful roses seemed to dance as he looked at them. He tried to focus on a rose bush and was surprised to see it become a pair of roses while he watched. As he continued to look the two slowly merged into one again. He sat for a long time looking out. The sun coming through the window warmed him through and gradually his head and eyesight cleared. What could he do? He certainly did not want to continue living with Sir and Lady for a minute longer than necessary.

On the lawn beneath the magnolia he saw Whiskers, the Robertson's grey cat, stalking a sparrow. As he watched the natural drama unfold he wondered if life was always like that. Stalker and prey, strong and weak, clever and dumb, they must all be part of nature. The sparrow seemed aware that its arch-enemy was almost within striking distance and deftly skipped a few steps away. The cat stopped with three feet on the ground, one poised in space. Its eyes fixed in an unflinching stare. As Cedric watched, the cat sprang on the bird. The triumphant cat tossed its prize in the air for a few minutes before taking it in its mouth and proudly laying the broken bundle of feathers on the steps under the portico.

Cedric noticed that Buster the guard dog let Whiskers pass at a respectable distance without blinking an eyelid. Each animal seemed to have a healthy respect for the other and Cedric reasoned that if Buster would let Whiskers pass then he would soon let Cedric pass too.

Cedric wondered if his situation was like that of the sparrow. He had to be clever like Whiskers the cat. Sir and Lady were stronger than he was, but he could be smarter. He would make an effort to gain their trust.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of feet on the stairs. He stared quietly out the window as he waited for the Robertsons to enter the room.

'Charles, we have something to say which is most important,' Lady Robertson said in a gentle voice.

Cedric continued to stare out the window.

'Charles, it's difficult for us. We are not accustomed to having a child about the house. You see we've not been able to have children of our own and we so much want to have children. That's why we went to so much trouble to adopt you.'

Sir Herbert stood in the doorway, content to let Lady Robertson do the talking. Meanwhile Cedric still had his back to them.

'We want so much for this to be a happy home,' Lady Robertson continued in a conciliatory tone. 'Please forgive us for everything that has happened. I know we can all get along fine together if you'll just give us a chance.'

Gently she placed an arm around him and, although she felt him flinch, he did not pull away, or turn to face them either.

The Sir Herbert spoke in a gentle but persuasive manner.

'We know how you feel, son, with your family torn apart the way it was and all the dreadful things that have happened, but we are sure that we can give you a new and better life. Give us a chance, son.'

'Yer mean yer ain't gonna larrup me no more?'

'We cannot promise that, Charles. It's up to you to do your part too. But let's try, shall we?'

Cedric turned to look out the window again. Buster lay on the lawn with a watchful eye towards the portico where Whiskers sat grooming himself. A variety of trees, shrubs and blossoms soaked up the warmth of a beautiful spring day. It was a lovely sight for the seven-year-old from the slums of the Rocks where little greenery existed in the small backyards and narrow lanes that were always choked with garbage and either dusty or muddy depending on the season. Eventually Cedric turned towards Sir Herbert and Lady Robertson with a smile.

'Okay. Let's try.'

For Lady Robertson it was the most wonderful thing she could have heard and she threw her arms about him and kissed him.

'That's wonderful, Charles,' she enthused.

'That's marvelous, son. I'm proud of you,' Sir Herbert said as he reached out to shake Cedric's hand.

'There's a lovely luncheon waiting for you,' Lady Robertson went on. 'Why don't you wash your face and hands, tidy your hair and clothes, and come downstairs? There are no servants today so it will just be the three of us together.'

'Okay. I'm really hungry now.'

Chapter 123

Lessons

When Amy awoke at seven o'clock on Monday morning the first thing she did was look in on Cedric again. He slept soundly and she decided to let him sleep a little longer. In the early morning light she noticed that his face was swollen and guessed that he must have been upset and cried a lot during her absence. Or perhaps he had misbehaved and been given some physical punishment. Amy did not approve of that kind of discipline when it was carried out in an extreme manner but she also felt that it was not for her to interfere or try to impose her standards on her employers.

At eight o'clock Sir Herbert left the mansion in his carriage for the short journey to his office in Melbourne and Lady Robertson went to look in on Cedric.

'He has had such a long sleep, Amy. He was very tired last night when he went to bed, but I think it is now time to wake him.'

'Come on now, Charles.' Amy Roker shook him gently. 'It's time to wake up.'

When he opened his eyes, Cedric instinctively recoiled away from Lady Robertson, but then, recognizing Amy, he threw his arms around her neck and started to cry.

'I thought you'd gone forever, Miss Roker.'

Lady Robertson beat a hasty and diplomatic retreat.

'No Charles, it was my day off yesterday and I went home for the day. That's all. Now it's time for breakfast and after that it will be school time. Today I'm going to get you to show me how well you are doing with your reading and writing. Would you like to do that?'

'You bet, Miss Roker.'

After Cedric had washed and dressed, Amy took him to the dining room where she left him with Lady Robertson while she went to eat in the servants' quarters. Later she came back and took him to a small study near the parlor.

'This is your study, Charles. It is where I will help you with your schooling. Isn't it a grand little room?'

'Gee whiz! I'll be jiggered, Miss Roker. Have yer read all these books?' He looked around the room with wide eyes.

'Many of them, yes.'

'Yer must be real clever, Miss Roker. Would yer read somethink to me?'

She reached for a copy of Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland and flicked through the pages until she found a passage that she thought would tickle his fancy and started reading to him.

"The white rabbit put on his spectacles. 'Where shall I begin, Your Majesty?' he asked. 'Begin at the beginning,' the King said gravely, 'and go on till you come to the end: then stop.'"

Cedric chuckled with delight.

'That's a real screamer, Miss Roker. A white rabbit with spectacles! Wouldn't they fall off when 'e was hoppin' about? I like that. Can yer read some more?'

'Of course, Charles,' she said and flicked through some more pages. ''Two pence a week, and jam every other day...' 'Well, I don't want any today at any rate.' 'You couldn't have it if you did want it.' The Queen said. 'The rule is, jam tomorrow and jam yesterday – but never jam today.'"

'That's a real screamer too.' Cedric chuckled again. 'Is that what folks means when they say tomorrow never comes?'

'I think it must be.' Amy answered as though surprised by the importance of the lad's discovery.

'Some day I'm gonna read like that. You'll show me how, won't yer?'

'Yes. I will, Charles, and I'm sure you are going to be an excellent reader. If you work hard at your studies the Robertson's may send you to university when you are older. Then you will be very clever and perhaps one day you may be able to help Sir Herbert in his business.'

'What's that?'

'I mean his work. Sir Herbert owns public houses.'

'What's a public house, Miss Roker?'

'They are hotels where travelers stay and where people sometimes go to eat or drink.'

'Is that the same as a boarding house?'

'Yes. It's similar.'

'Granny Ruby had one o' them before Glengyle knocked the bugger down.'

'Charles!' Amy scalded him and glared sternly. 'You must never use that word again.'

'What word?' he asked in complete innocence.

'That... I mean...' she leaned closer to him and whispered in his ear. 'Bugger.'

'Oh, that. Me ma uses it all the time. So does Granny Ruby.'

'Perhaps they do, Charles. But perhaps they shouldn't. Besides, the rules are different here and swearing is forbidden. I want you to promise me that you won't use that word again, or any other swear words. Promise?'

'All right, I promise. But it's a bugger when yer can't swear, ain't it?'

Amy Roker looked directly into his face with the sternest expression that she could muster and held a finger to her lips commanding silence.

'Ssshh, Charles. Now it's time for lessons.'

Chapter 124

Melbourne

Amy Roker gave Cedric lessons from Monday to Friday and he studied eagerly and learned quickly.

On Saturdays she often took him to Melbourne where they visited the Centennial Exhibition or rode Australia's first electric tramway from Box Hill to Doncaster and back again. At other times she took him to Flagstaff Gardens or Queen Victoria Gardens across the Yarra River. On one such occasion, while they waited to board the river punt, Cedric asked about a street name he could see on a nearby sign.

'That's Batman Avenue, Charles. I'll tell you about Mr Batman. Many years ago, before the city was here, John Batman purchased a thousand acres of land from the local Aborigines. The price he paid for the land was just forty blankets, thirty knives, a dozen axes, several looking glasses, four suits of clothing and a bag of flour for cooking, and that's how the city of Melbourne got started.'

'How do yer know about that, Miss Roker? Was yer here at the time?'

'Oh no, Charles. It was long before my time. I read about it. It's part of Australian history and that's why it's so important to be good at reading, writing and arithmetic. You see Mr Batman was a very shrewd businessman, which he could not have been without being really good at reading, writing and arithmetic. Do you see how important it is?'

'I do, Miss Roker. Do yer think I'm good at them?'

'Yes, Charles, you're doing very well indeed. But you also need to improve your pronunciation of words.'

'What's that?'

'The way you say words. There is a right way and a wrong way but you will soon learn.' She pointed across the river. 'Look, the punt is coming for us.'

On Sundays Cedric always spent the day with the Robertsons. Attending church with the Robertsons was the most boring thing he had ever done in his entire life but he pretended to enjoy it so that he would gain their trust. He much preferred the company of Miss Roker. She was more patient and understanding than the Robertson's, and she was so interesting. He was afraid the Robertsons would hurt him when they couldn't get their own way. Miss Roker was not like that. She was kind and gentle like his ma. He wondered if she was still in jail and what had happened to Isobel. He wished he could see them again.

Cedric had another new friend – Buster the dog. He had been shown how to give Buster his daily meal and Buster trusted him. Cedric was able to come and go from the mansion as he pleased, which would make his escape plans much easier to pull off.

Just how he could get from Melbourne to Sydney was something that he was still thinking about. Perhaps Miss Roker could help with a plan if only she would believe his version of what had happened in Sydney. One day during lessons he suddenly interrupted her.

'I don't want to stay here any longer, Miss Roker. I'm worried about my ma and Isobel and Granny Ruby. I should be with them.'

'Whatever has brought this on, Charles?'

'This is not my home. Sir Herbert and Lady are not my ma and pa.'

The governess looked at him in silence for a long time.

'You really are serious, aren't you?' she said at last.

'I want to go home – to my real home, Miss Roker.'

'Alright, Charles. We'll see,' she said not knowing what else she could say.

'What does that mean?'

'It means I'll look into it.'

She was quiet again while he looked at her in expectant silence. 'On Saturday when we go to Melbourne we'll talk about it. Meanwhile let's get back to the lessons.'

'But I want to go now, Miss Roker,' he pleaded.

'I'm sorry, Charles, you must be patient and trust me,' she said lowering her voice. 'We'll talk about it on Saturday when we get to Melbourne.'

Chapter 125

A Threat and a Promise

On Saturday morning they rode on the horse-drawn omnibus to Russell Street and alighted near a stone building.

'What's this, Miss Roker?' Cedric pointed to the huge structure.

'It's Melbourne jail, Charles. It's where the bad people go. Have you heard of Ned Kelly?'

'Sure. Everyone's heard of Ned Kelly. He was a bushranger.'

'That's right. Do you know what happened to him?'

'Dunno.'

'He was arrested, taken to court and then brought to this jail to be hanged.'

'Gee whiz! Was he hanged here?' Cedric asked in awe. 'Some of the folks in Caraher's Lane reckon Ned Kelly was a hero. Why did they hang him?'

'That's the problem, Charles. He was only a hero to folk who did not respect the law. Remember what I said about always obeying the law, trusting the law and telling the truth?'

'Yes, I do tell the truth, Miss Roker. I always do,' he pleaded.

She stopped and turned to face him.

'Unless you always tell the truth and obey the law you could finish up in a jail like this one.' She reached out quickly and grabbed his lapel. 'Would you like to see inside the jail?'

'No! I don't never want to see in there!' he shouted and tried to pull away.

She held him firmly.

'Then tell me the truth about your family, Charles,' she demanded. 'You did not tell the truth about them, did you?'

'I did! I did! I never tell fibs. Never!'

'I don't believe you, Charles. I think you should be put in jail,' she replied as she pulled him towards the big doors.

'No! No!' he pleaded as he burst into tears. 'I been in jail in Sydney. It was horrid an' I don't never wanna go back. Please, Miss Roker, yer gotta believe me.'

'Then tell me the real truth about your family.'

'Everythink I told yer was the truth. I hate yer! I hate yer!' he screamed as he swung his little fists at her and lashed out with his feet too.

She still had a firm hold and pulled him closer.

'Alright. I do believe you, Charles, but I had to be sure. Come now. Calm down and don't be afraid of me. I am your friend and I'll do everything I can to protect you from danger.'

'I always tell the friggin' truth!' he shouted angrily.

'I believe you, Charles. Now I want you to tell me something. What is your real name?'

'I've already told yer me name. I told yer it's Cedric Nathaniel Asker.'

'Thank you, Charles. You see I do believe you. Now, what is your ma's name?'

'Polly Asker.'

'What is your pa's name?'

'Ain't got a pa.'

'Are you sure? Everyone has a pa, Cedric. You see I'm calling you Cedric.'

'Not me. I ain't got a pa. Honest.'

'How can I be sure?'

'Well, I've never seen no pa, and me ma says I ain't got one, and what she says is good enough for me.'

'Do you have any brothers or sisters?'

'No.'

'Uncles, aunts or cousins?'

'There's Auntie Isobel. I've already told you about her. I also told you about me Uncle Charley who does the community service at Darlinghurst. Some of me uncles and aunts have died and there is Uncle Archie who lives in England. Why are you asking, Miss Roker?'

'I'm just interested. Tell me about your grandparents.'

'There's only Granny Ruby now because the others all died. But Granny Ruby is really me great-grandma. She's really old.'

'Now tell me about your ma, Cedric. Where is she?'

'I told yer, she's in jail for murdering Glengyle but she didn't do it. It was Dan Martin what killed him.'

'Who is Dan Martin?'

'He was a really old man who was gonna marry Granny Ruby but when he saw Glengyle trying to kill Granny Mary, who was really me great-great-grandma, he decided to kill Glengyle. Honest, Miss Roker, that's what happened.'

'So where is Dan Martin now?'

'He's in the Sandhills.'

'Do you mean he's hiding in the sandhills?'

Cedric turned to face his governess indignantly.

'Miss Roker, don't yer know the Sandhills is what they call the cemetery? Yer know where the dead people is. I hope they let me ma out soon.'

'I'm sure they will if she didn't do it.'

Amy Roker put an arm around his little shoulders to reassure him.

'I'm sorry, Cedric, that I didn't believe you at first. The first time you told me all this I thought you were simply making it up. Now I know the truth and I want you to trust me. I'm not sure what I can do yet to help you but I'll think about it. Meanwhile I want you to play a game of pretend. I want you to pretend that you are still Charles Robertson and that Sir Herbert and Lady Robertson are your parents just for a bit longer. Trust me, little man. I love you.'

'I love you too, Miss Roker.'

She bent down and kissed him on the face. Then she took his hand, turned away from the jail, and they walked towards the shops.

Later in the day as the sun descended towards the horizon, they alighted again from the omnibus and walked to the mansion. Once inside the huge doors she smiled at him and winked as a token of their secret understanding. He tried to return the wink but could only manage a funny face.

'I'll see you on Monday morning for your lessons as usual, Charles. Meanwhile I want you to be a good lad for Sir Herbert and Lady Robertson.' She winked again.

'I will, Miss Roker, and thanks for today.'

'Good night, Charles.'

'Good night, Miss Roker.'

On Monday morning he was in for a shock. At the time when the governess usually arrived for duty, an elderly woman came to the door instead.

'Good morning, Lady Robertson?'

'Yes. Good morning.'

'I'm Mrs. Roker, Amy's mother. Amy has come down with a dreadful fever and I'm afraid it may be some days before she is well enough to attend to her duties. I do hope you will excuse her.'

'Oh, my goodness... Yes. I guess we'll just have to make do without her, but please tell her that she must get well again as soon as possible. Otherwise I shall have to let her go,' Lady Robertson said gruffly.

'Yes. I'm sure. Thank you so much.'

When Mrs. Roker had gone, Lady Robertson called Emily from the kitchen and instructed her to look after the lad until further notice.

'Oh, yes,' she agreed eagerly. 'I ain't never had no children to look after afore, but I'll do the best I can, mam. I won't be able to teach him no readin' an' writin', like Miss Amy, but I'll take good care o' him none-the-less, mam.'

'Thank you, Emily. But please, Emily, don't use your vulgar slang in his presence. We don't want him growing up speaking like those ghastly ex-convicts' children, do we?'

'No, mam,' Emily replied obediently as she remembered her own convict ancestry.

Cedric and Emily got on well together from the start, but he longed to be with Miss Roker because he was always learning something new with her, and he was eager to learn as much as possible. Meanwhile he made do with helping Emily and the other servant in the kitchen. He chatted constantly to them about Miss Roker, and his family, to which they often raised their eyebrows in disbelief.

When Friday morning came round Cedric was beginning to despair of ever seeing his governess again. He was convinced that Miss Roker had abandoned him.

'I wish Miss Roker was here, Miss Emily.'

'Don't worry, Charlie, me lad. She'll turn up afore yer know it.'

'Na, Miss Emily. She's gone for good, like all the others. Happens all the time. Everyone I loves goes to jail, or gets killed. Every friggin' time.'

'Don't say that, Charlie. I ain't gonna die, or go to jail.'

He was quiet for a moment as he watched the servants working. Then he heard the outside door and recognized Miss Roker's footsteps.

'Gee whiz, Miss Roker, I thought you'd left me like all the others.'

He raced towards her with outstretched arms.

'No, my little man, I wouldn't do that. I told you, you have to trust me. I've been away all week because I've been sick with a fever. Now I'm better again and I've come to take your lessons again. Have you been a good lad for Miss Emily?'

'Yes, Miss Roker. I've been helping Miss Emily with her work. I can cook now,' he said proudly.

'That's excellent, Charles. Now it's time for your school lessons.

Chapter 126

An Unexpected Visitor

Ruby's Boarding House was rebuilt and most of the rooms re-let soon after Dan Martin's estate was wound up. Polly became a partner in the business with Ruby and in spite of the large age difference they worked well as a team.

Polly received an abundance of attention from the male lodgers but she politely avoided close associations with any of them. She had no interest in any man, except of course her beloved little Cedric. She thought about him constantly, wondering where he was, what he was doing and hoping that he was safe. Frequently, she cried herself to sleep at night.

But Polly and Granny Ruby rarely mentioned Cedric or Isobel. Instead they often lapsed into long silent periods, each with their own thoughts and knowing that the subject of the missing children was too upsetting for the other. In a way they had become hardened to the repeated losses and tragedies. Both had long since resolved, outwardly at least, to face the future and whatever it held for them with complete stoicism.

'How about makin' us a nice cuppa, Polly, and we'll go sit out the front in the sun?' Ruby suggested one morning as they finished washing and drying the large pile of breakfast dishes.

'Good idea, Gran. We've earned it, an' after all that rain yesterday, it'll be nice in the sun this morning.'

They settled on the porch overlooking the lane and sipped their tea. The lane was quiet except for a well-dressed young lady talking to some residents several doors away.

'I ain't seen her round 'ere before,' Ruby commented as the woman turned in their direction.

'She certainly don't belong around 'ere, Gran, with clothes like that.'

Ruby chuckled.

'Ssshh, Gran. I think she's lookin' fer a room.'

'Good morning, ladies. It's a lovely morning for having a cuppa in the sun.'

'You bet. It's a beaut day, ain't it?' Ruby answered.

'Is yer lookin' for a room?' Polly asked as she studied the woman at close range.

The impression she had formed while watching the woman from a distance had changed. Polly could now see that she was friendly and down-to-earth.

'Oh, no... Well, I could certainly take a rest. There wasn't much rest to be had on that train, but I haven't come for a room.'

'That's okay, cos all the best rooms is taken. So can we help yer some other way?'

'I'm looking for Polly Asker.'

'Well, yer just found 'er. I'm Polly.'

The young woman's pleasant smile suddenly broadened and they wondered what it could be about.

'Oh, I'm so pleased I've found you.'

She stood awkwardly for a moment as she thought about how she should deliver the news to them.

'You'd better come inside and tell us what's on yer mind,' Polly suggested.

'I'll make a cuppa for yer.' Ruby offered.

'Oh, yes. Thanks you so much. I'm dying for a drink. You must be Granny Ruby.'

Ruby spun around quickly.

'How'd yer know that?'

'Please sit down and I'll tell you.'

Ruby and Polly both remained standing with curious expressions on their faces.

'I know all about both of you. Cedric has told me everything,' she said simply.

'What?' Both women asked simultaneously as they stood open-mouthed and flabbergasted.

'Say that again?' Ruby was the first to recover.

'I've come about Cedric. He's safe and well.'

'Oh, me baby! Me baby!' Polly cried. 'Where is 'e?'

'Why didn't yer bring 'im with yer?' Ruby asked.

Chapter 127

News from Melbourne

The Askers were overjoyed. A flood of rapid-fire questions followed. For the mysterious young woman with the expensive clothes and eloquent voice seemed overcome. Ruby could see tears in her eyes and her face was flushed. Then she stood between the two Asker women, putting an arm around each.

'Please stay calm while I tell you what has happened.'

Suddenly Polly pulled away and glared at the visitor from a distance.

'Who is yer an' how do I know I can trust yer?'

'I'm sorry, Polly. I'm not explaining very well. I'm Amy Roker and I live in Melbourne...'

'What's Melbourne got to do with it? Ain't that a thousand mile from 'ere?'

'It's certainly a long way. I know only too well. I've just come from Melbourne to help you get Cedric back again. Sir Herbert and Lady Robertson, who adopted Cedric, employed me as his governess and teacher. Cedric and I get on really well together. But he has never quite settled down with the Robertsons. They are simply not accustomed to children and are perhaps a bit old to be learning to cope with a young lad. Whenever I have asked Cedric about his family and his past he always told me stories which were just too incredible to believe...'

'Nothin' ain't too incredible fer this family,' Polly interjected.

'I think I'm starting to understand that now. You've really all had most dreadful experiences. I wish I had listened to Cedric from the beginning. I could have saved you all a lot of unnecessary heartache. I'm deeply sorry. But I'm here now to help you get him back. He mentioned Isobel. He said that he heard the policeman talking about her going to work in a factory. That's all I can tell you about Isobel.'

'Why couldn't yer bring Cedric with yer?' Polly asked.

'I wish it could have been as simple as that. I didn't like leaving him when I realized the truth, but there really was no other way that I could do it. But I've got a plan to have you re-united with him and I'll need your help to carry it out.'

She hesitated for a moment.

'I also wanted to double check his story by meeting you. I wanted to make sure that I could find you and that you were actually in a position to take him back. He said you were in jail charged with murder.'

'We think the murder charge was just a way of gettin' the children taken away so the cops could make some money from the adoption,' Ruby said.

'I can confirm that, Mrs. Asker,' Amy replied. 'Cedric told me that he overheard the Robertson's agreeing to pay forty pounds for him and they heard that Isobel was sold for fifty pounds.'

'The rotters!' Ruby exclaimed.

'What's yer plan, Amy?' Polly asked eagerly. 'An' if 'e's at the Robertson's why can't I just march in an' take 'im, cos I'll be jiggered if I ain't 'is mother.'

'Yes, I understand fully, but they have adoption papers which will give them legal custody. They would just call the police and you would be arrested again. The Robertson's are powerful people, Polly. We must follow a carefully laid plan and you must not expect to be able to come back to Sydney for a very long time. They will come here looking for him.'

'You're right, Amy.' Polly nodded her head slowly as she spoke. 'So what is the plan?'

'First you have to trust me, Polly. The plan is to take you both to an outback station. I'll give you all the details while we're traveling on the train to Melbourne. Fortunately the train needed repairs when it arrived in Sydney and it won't be ready to leave again until midday. If it had been leaving on time we would have had to wait until another day. So you just have time, if you hurry, to get some things together and walk to the station.'

Polly looked at Ruby questioningly. The older woman nodded, Polly's face lit up like a Christmas tree and Polly raced from the room to grab a change of clothes.

'We can't thank yer enough for what yer done, Amy. The poor lass has been heart broken ever since she heard he'd been taken away while she was in jail.'

'I know. Cedric has told me everything there is to tell. It's an incredible saga.' She looked more closely at Ruby. 'He told me all about you too and I'm privileged to meet you. Can I call you Granny Ruby too?'

'Yer might as well, Amy. The whole lane, or those what still talks to us, they calls me Granny Ruby.'

She poured some tea from the large teapot on the coal range and invited Amy to have some scones and jam.

'There's one thing puzzles me, Amy. Does 'e go by Asker or Robertson?'

'Robertson, Charles Herbert Robertson.'

'But 'e told yer 'is real name too?'

'Yes he did, but I didn't believe him.'

'How old is yer, Amy?'

'Twenty-two.'

'How come yer hadn't heard of us Askers before? After them Kelly's we're about the most notorious family in Australia.'

'I know more about the family now. I asked some folks on the train but honestly I knew nothing before that. My family has only been in Australia a short time since arriving from New Zealand and I'm trying to learn as much about the country as I can. Naturally, if I'd believed Cedric from the start I would have known all about his family and I would have made this visit last year. I'm terribly sorry it's taken so long.'

Ruby nodded her head slowly while she continued to study the visitor.

'Hope you'll excuse me fer pryin' into yer business but I just wanna be sure.'

'I understand.'

'Tell me about Cedric. How is 'e?'

'To be perfectly frank with you, he's been through a very difficult time but he's now coming on a treat. He's a very special little boy and he loves you all and misses you so much.'

At that moment Polly hurried into the room carrying a small bundle of personal belongings.

'I'm ready to go,' she declared excitedly.

'Take all the money from our special jar, lovey, and good luck.'

Ruby stood up and embraced her granddaughter. They both started crying.

Chapter 128

Flagstaff Gardens

As usual on a Saturday, Amy and Cedric walked to the omnibus for their outing to Melbourne. The weather was fine and warm but Amy insisted that Cedric should take extra clothing just in case the weather turned cold. Amy also carried some extra items in the small bag she normally carried.

'Why do I need to take those, Miss Roker? It isn't going to get cold today.'

'The weather can change at any time, Charles. Please take them for me. Come on let's hurry.'

'Alright, but I don't know why I should. It's already hot.'

'Ssshh! Come on.'

When they arrived at Flagstaff Gardens there were few people about and Amy stopped to talk to Cedric before they entered the gardens.

'Now, listen carefully, Cedric,' she said in a hushed tone.

'You called me Cedric again,' he responded quickly.

'Yes. I did, because I know now that Cedric is your real name and I'll never call you Charles again. Are you surprised?'

He looked at her strangely.

'I'm gob-smacked, Miss Roker. First I'm Cedric, then I'm Charles, then Cedric and now I just don't know who I'm supposed to be. Holy Moses, Miss Roker! Why?'

'Because Cedric is the name your mother gave you and your mother is waiting for you here.'

Before he could speak, he saw a woman who looked vaguely familiar coming quickly towards them. Then he stopped and stared wide-eyed as the woman started running with her arms outstretched. As she drew closer he tried to hide behind the governess, away from the mother he no longer recognized. Then she grabbed him and pulled him to her, smothering him with kisses and tears.

'Oh, Cedric, me love! Me baby. Me lovely baby! Oh, my. How you've grown. You're quite a young man, ain't yer?'

For a long time the lad was speechless. Amy waited patiently while the two got reacquainted and eventually he found his tongue.

'Ma, I thought I was never going to see you again,' he said as he took her hand the way he had always done.

'I can see Amy has been doin' a good job o' teachin' yer, son. Yer talk real posh now.'

'I've really missed you, ma. I hope we are never ever separated again.'

'We won't be, son. Not ever again. I promise yer.'

Amy Roker decided it was time she took control again so that the rest of her plan could be put into effect.

'Cedric, please listen very carefully to what I'm saying. It's very important. We have a plan to get you away from the Robertson's and back to Caraher's Lane where you belong so that everything will be just the way it was. However, it's going to take a very long time to get there because the police will be looking for us. They will want to take you back to the Robertson's and take your mother and I to jail for taking you away from the Robertson's. So we can't stay in Melbourne and we can't go to Sydney for a long time yet. We must stop somewhere on the way. Do you understand?'

'Yes, I do understand, Miss Roker, and I sure don't want to go back to the Robertsons.'

They reached a garden seat and Cedric sat between the two women.

'Later this morning we are going to catch the train to a place called Wagga Wagga and from there we will travel on a riverboat for several days to a place in the outback where I have a cousin who is a grazier...'

'What's a grazier?'

'A grazier is a farmer who owns many thousands of acres of land, sometimes hundreds of square miles of land, on which he grazes his cattle or sheep. Now, as I was saying, we are going to travel by boat on the Murrumbidgee River to my cousin's cattle station where work will be waiting for your mother and me as servants. The difficult part will be getting there without getting caught. Part of the plan, to make sure that we don't get caught, will be to change our names. I'm sorry Cedric, but you will have to change your name, just once more, but it will only be until we get to the cattle station in the outback. So we have decided that you will now be Cedric Hamilton, your mother will be Agatha Hamilton and I will be Martha Jones.'

'Gee whiz, another name! Cedric Asker, Charles Robertson, Cedric Hamilton, who am I going to be tomorrow?'

'Yes, it's confusing, I know, but it's vital, Cedric. The Robertson's will have the police out looking for us and there may even be a large reward for anyone who can help capture us. Do you want to go back to the Robertson's?'

'No fear! I don't ever want to go back there.'

'Good. Then you must remember that you are now Cedric Hamilton.'

Chapter 129

Spirited Away

The trio then made their way to the railway station to board the Albury train. The women felt confident about their safety for the first part of the train journey because they believed that it would be several hours before Cedric and Amy were reported to the police as missing persons. At first they believed the police would be looking for a woman and a boy rather than two women and a boy. By the time the train reached Sydney, almost two days later, the Melbourne police would have notified Sydney police using the new telegraph system and they expected the train to be searched on arrival in Sydney. It was essential to leave the train before it got to Sydney and they hoped, with a little luck, that the train could reach Wagga Wagga faster than the telegraph.

As the train sped out of Melbourne on its northbound journey, the women were confident that their plan was working the way they had expected. However, after a short time they became worried. The train seemed to be making more stops than usual. Each time it stopped people got on and off and mailbags were loaded and unloaded. After that the train often just sat at the station for an age before anything else happened. Finally, they would hear a familiar toot from the engine and a hiss of steam, followed by the sound of clanging steel as the engine took up the slack between the carriages. A second or so later their own carriage would leap forward with a jerk and they would be on their way again.

Each time the train gathered speed, the women relaxed in the knowledge that they were probably safe, at least until the next station. Cedric marveled at the gathering momentum of the train and the clickety-clack clickety-clack sound of the wheels on the steel tracks. Once again he thought about being an engine driver when he got older. He noticed that people stopped whatever they were doing to stare at the train as it sped on its way. People seemed to regard the train as a true wonder of the modern age and, as Miss Roker had put it, "a symbol of the approaching united nationhood of the separate colonies."

The train made stops at Seymour, Avenel, Violet Town, Benalla and Glenrowan with Amy explaining to Cedric in detail how each town had played a part in the Ned Kelly saga of less than a decade earlier. As the last light of a crimson sundown faded over the plains, the train pulled into Chiltern Station for yet another stop. Cedric watched the mailbags being transferred and then a policeman walked along the side of the track looking through the windows at the passengers. Cedric held the officer's stare for a moment until the policeman moved on again. The train pulled out from the station and gathered speed again and a few minutes later passed through Barnawartha before slowing down for a moonlight crossing of the wide Murray River and into New South Wales and the town of Albury.

'Now we have to change trains, don't we?' Cedric said as the train stopped at the station.

'Yes. You have an excellent memory,' Amy replied. 'Do you know why?'

'Sir Herbert...'

'Ssshh. Don't mention 'is name,' Polly whispered quickly.

'Sorry, ma. I mean, it's because the tracks have a different gauge on each side of the border.'

'It's because when the first tracks were laid many years ago in Melbourne and in Sydney nobody realized that one day the tracks would meet somewhere in between,' Amy added.

'That was dumbhead, wasn't it?'

'That's the trouble with progress and new inventions. Sometimes you just never know quite how things will turn out.'

Chapter 130

Wagga Wagga

As the train jerked to a stop the passengers gathered up their belongings, left the carriage and walked across the platform to the waiting New South Wales train. Then there was a long wait while the mailbags and freight were transhipped. After another nervous wait there was a hiss of steam, followed by a loud toot, and the passengers braced themselves for the jerk that would set the train in motion. Instead they saw the Melbourne train slowly commence its return journey, while the Sydney train continued to wait. The two women began to fear the worst. They listened as the rattle of wheels on the other tracks gradually receded into the stillness of the night. They began to worry again. Why hadn't both trains departed at the same time?

Then they heard the toot from their own locomotive, the customary hiss of steam, and the carriages leapt forward with a jerk, then abruptly stopped again. For several minutes nothing happened until a gruff-looking man in a dark uniform appeared in the carriage and proceeded to check the passengers' tickets. When he got to the runaway trio, they were all on edge and expecting arrest at any moment.

'Where yer goin', lad?' the man asked without the slightest trace of a smile.

Cedric edged closer to his mother and stared wide-eyed.

'Wagga Wagga, sir,' Polly answered quickly as a nervous lump came into her throat.

'Not far to the Wagga, mam. Yer lad got a tongue in 'is mouth?'

'He's shy, sir.'

'Should be there in another three hours, missus. Don't go to sleep,' the man said, still without smiling. Then he added as an afterthought, 'Wagga means the 'place of many crows' but don't expect any crows to wake yer up in the middle o' the night, mate.'

'Thank you, sir,' Amy replied politely.

The train made several more stops before finally rumbling into Wagga Wagga in the middle of the night.

'Hope it's really the place o' many crows and not the place o' many cops,' Polly said as she peered out into the darkness.

As they stepped onto the platform the first thing they noticed was the cold night air of the inland town. Then they noticed that the town seemed deserted. Several other passengers alighted also but they soon melted into the night leaving the trio alone in the small town.

'What now?' Polly asked as she helped Cedric get into his warmer clothing.

'We must find an inn for the night, or we'll freeze,' Amy replied confident that everything was proceeding to plan in spite of some worrying moments on the train.

As they left the station the moon appeared from behind a cloud to light the way for them. Soon they were walking along what appeared to be the main street and one of the first buildings they came to was the Explorer's Hotel. They knocked on the door and waited for someone to come. After an age they heard footsteps inside and a rough male voice shouted to them through the closed door.

'Wadda yer want, mate?'

'A room for three people, please,' Amy called back.

A moment later they heard the sound of a bolt sliding. The door opened a little and a rough-looking elderly individual peered out at them. The stench of stale grog on his breath almost sent them reeling.

'Can't be too careful these days, what with all them larrikins runnin' loose. The room will cost yer two shillin's a night. Pay in advance, missus.'

'Miss.' Amy corrected him. 'We would like to inspect the room first, please.'

'Now yer look 'ere, missus, I ain't getting outta me scratcher in the middle o' the night just so some preacher-type lady what's plum in the gob can 'ave a look-see. Either yer wanna room or yer don't wanna room. It's only two shillin's like I said.'

'We'll take it, sir,' Polly said before he had a chance to change his mind and close the door in their faces.

With that he held the door open and showed them the way to their room at the end of a long narrow passageway lit by a single oil lamp.

'Breakfast goes off at seven-thirty. No refunds if yer sleeps over. Got it?'

'Got it, mister,' Polly replied quickly.

They closed the door and the two women moved the large bed so that the door could not be opened from the outside.

'I sure as 'ell don't want 'im creepin' in 'ere while we're sleepin'.'

'Did you pay him the two shillings?'

'Nope. He must 'ave forgot to ask. Must 'ave soaked 'is brain too much. We'd better give it to 'im in the mornin'; otherwise 'e'll 'ave the bloody Peelers out lookin' for us an' that'll blow everything.'

'Very wise, Polly.'

'What's the Peelers?' Cedric asked from his bed as he struggled to stay awake.

'The Peelers are another name for the police, or Bobbies, Cedric. Both terms, 'Bobby' and 'Peeler', come from Sir Robert Peel who established the London Metropolitan Police Force a long time ago. Now I think it must be time a young man like you got some sleep. Goodnight, Cedric.'

'Goodnight, Miss Roker. Goodnight, ma. I love you both.'

After a huge breakfast of oatmeal, mutton chops and eggs cooked by the proprietor's wife, who resembled a heavyweight wrestler, they paid their account and asked for directions to the Murrumbidgee River and the riverboat jetty.

'North 'long Bayliss Street to Fitzmaurice Street an' then right int' Sturt Street till yer come t' the river. Next boat leaves fer Mildura on Tuesdee, mate, if it ain't run aground. Can never tell with these rivers.'

Their hearts sank at the prospect of spending two more nights at the Explorer so they walked along the street searching for something better. The Shamrock looked much better but at three shillings and sixpence a night they decided to save their money and return to the Explorer.

Later in the day they followed the directions to the jetty which was even more deserted than the town. However when they walked back into town in the afternoon they saw a large crowd, dressed in their Sunday best, coming out of a small church. Amy suggested that they should avoid the crowd by crossing to the other side of the street. On Monday they purchased food from the general store and walked along the riverbank to a secluded place where they could have a picnic lunch away from the prying eyes of the townsfolk.

Chapter 131

The Earl of Liverpool

Finally it was Tuesday morning and after the customary oatmeal, mutton chops and eggs proudly cooked and served by the lady wrestler, they hurried down to the jetty where the paddle steamer Earl of Liverpool was alongside.

It was a truly elegant riverboat. Built near Adelaide in 1887, she was near new and worked the river continuously carrying bulk cargo and stores on the lower deck while the passengers traveled on the upper deck in cabins that resembled hotel rooms. A tall flagpole stood proudly on the bow and a large steam funnel rose gracefully through the center of the vessel midway between the two side-mounted box-structures that covered the paddle wheels. Twice a month the Liver left Wagga Wagga and paddled slowly down the meandering river passed its confluence with the mighty Murray to the port at Mildura.

Amy, Polly and Cedric stood at the end of the jetty and watched as the crew loaded supplies for the graziers with properties bordering the Murrumbidgee. Then they saw the captain approaching them.

'G'mornin', ladies. Goin' somewhere?'

Amy spoke for the trio.

'Yes, sir. We would like to go to Wondiligong Station, please.'

'Wondi, eh? Conrad knows yer comin'? He didn't say anything about visitors last time we saw 'im.'

'It's a long standing invitation.'

'Good-oh then. It'll be five shillin's for the passage not includin' food.' The captain stopped to observe the cussing crew as they struggled with some large wool bales. 'And keep outta the way o' the crew while they're workin' an' no shenanigans with 'em at night. Understand?'

Both women turned to take a second look at the sweating navies.

'That shan't be difficult, captain.'

'Well, if that be settled yer can take the cabin next t' the wheelhouse.'

An hour later the Liver was on its way downstream but with little help from the river, which dropped only three hundred feet on its thousand-mile journey to the sea.

The settlement at Wagga Wagga was soon left behind giving the travelers on the upper deck a clear view of the north and south banks of the meandering muddy-brown river. Intermittent river red-gum forests provided a pretty scene. In some places large forests had been ring-barked by the settlers. They stood bare and lifeless, haunting the landscape like communities of silent ghosts. There were birds of every color and description on the ground and in the trees. Occasional herds of cattle or flocks of sheep could be seen grazing on the level plains or drinking from the river. It was an awe-inspiring sight for eight-year-old Cedric as he listened to the ongoing slap of the steamer's paddles against the smooth surface of the water.

Four hours after leaving Wagga Wagga, the Earl of Liverpool eased into the jetty at Currawarna where the crew and the runholder's men unloaded the station supplies before turning to the task of loading the wool clip. For that they used an elaborate steam-driven winch to lower the heavy bales onto the stern of the ship. An hour later they eased back into the middle of the river and continued their journey. The old captain invited Cedric to join him in the wheelhouse.

As the sun dipped towards the horizon it shone on a rocky sentinel overlooking the endless plains extending many miles to the south.

'What's that, mister?' Cedric pointed to the sunlit peak.

'Mount Galore, lad. It's one thousand two hundred feet high. Named by Henry Osborne, first white man to walk from Wollongong to Adelaide back about eighteen-forty. He climbed t' the top t' have a look-see an' declared there was 'land galore'. Hope 'e wasn't expectin' t' see Adelaide from up there. It's still nearly a thousand mile off.'

Cedric watched the sun setting ahead of them and then turned to the south again to watch the last of the sunlight creeping up the slopes of Mount Galore. Finally even the last bright spot on the summit had gone and the air cooled rapidly. A few minutes later the Earl of Liverpool tied up at another small jetty.

At first light the passengers were awoken by the sounds of the crew unloading more station supplies and a little while later they steamed away again with the next stop scheduled for Narrandera some hours later. Cedric again joined the captain in the wheelhouse and they chatted amiably as the ship slowly paddled westward along some straight stretches of river marked by frequent shoals and adjacent billabongs.

'Look over there, lad,' the captain said suddenly. 'That's a big red. Seen one o' them before?'

Cedric followed the captain's arm and saw a big red kangaroo bounding through the river red gums that lined the riverbank.

'No, sir. I haven't seen one that big before. He can go, can't he?'

'Sure can, mate. You'd be hard pressed to keep up with 'im.'

The ship turned another bend in the river and ahead they could see several buildings on the northern side.

'That's Narrandera up ahead. Named after a lizard but it's a nice town. Yer can tell the ladies we're gonna be here for about four hours, if they wanna get off the ship an' take a walk int' town.'

A few minutes later they walked along Cadell Street and were surprised to find quite a sizeable town with a school, post office, several churches and numerous hotels, the oldest of which appeared to be the Hit & Miss Hotel built in 1860. When they got back to the ship the captain informed them that the Hit & Miss had recently been used to conduct a murder inquest by Coroner Thomas Brown, a local runholder, who had become famous under the name of Rolf Boldrewood when he wrote Robbery Under Arms. They were impressed with the captain's knowledge of the area and its history, in spite of his gruff exterior.

Several hours later they made another supply delivery near the junction of Coleambally Creek and a little later the paddle steamer tied up at another jetty for the night as darkness descended over the almost featureless plains again.

At first light the next morning the Earl of Liverpool eased out into midstream and continued its westward journey. Since leaving Narrandera they had not seen any towns or settlements and it was easy for Cedric to imagine that they were the only living people in the whole world. Later in the morning, after rounding a series of hairpin bends, they arrived at the Wondiligong Station jetty on the southern bank of the river.

Cedric looked around at the featureless landscape while they waited for the Earl of Liverpool to tie up.

'Where's the town, Miss Roker?'

'There's no town at Wondiligong, Cedric. Just a station homestead nearby.'

Several men were waiting to load wool bales onto the steamer.

'Good morning. Are you from Wondiligong Station?' Amy called to them.

'That's right, missus. I'm Frank Wilde, the station overseer,' one of the men replied.

'Miss.' Amy corrected him without realizing that in the outback all women were referred to as missus. 'I'm Amy and this is Polly and Cedric. We're going to Wondiligong.'

Wilde looked at her in silence and she realized that there was some confusion for some reason.

'Are you here to meet us, Mr Wilde?'

'No. Mr and Mrs. Fleming didn't say anything about meeting visitors. Are you looking for work?'

'If we stay we'll need work. Mr Fleming is my cousin. We sent a telegraph to say we were coming.'

'Well, as I said, I don't think you're expected but let me help you with your gear and, if you don't mind riding on the dray, we'll have you at the homestead in next to no time. First we've just got to load these wool bales for Adelaide.'

As they walked along the small jetty Cedric turned to wave to his new friend, the riverboat captain. Without changing his expression, the old captain simply raised one hand a few inches in a conservative gesture of acknowledgement.

When the loading and unloading was completed, they started a long dray ride across what appeared to be an endless, wide plain that stretched from horizon to horizon, interrupted only by occasional clusters of eucalyptus trees. Eventually they came to a group of trees that looked different to the others. They were trees of many different species and Cedric saw that the trees had been hiding the homestead which sat at the highest point of the only rising ground in sight.

Chapter 132

Wondiligong

Wondiligong House was built on three levels from brick and bluestone topped with a series of slate roofs and eight protruding chimneys. Huge verandas, liberally decorated with wrought iron appendages, surrounded the mansion on three sides, on each of the three levels. To Cedric, the house and beautifully landscaped grounds were even more impressive than the Robertson mansion in far off Melbourne.

Wilde guided his dray away from the rough track that went to the side of the homestead grounds and to the original homestead and other buildings. Instead he took the paved driveway right to the front door of the mansion. A woman wearing a white bonnet and apron showed them into the great entrance hall and asked them to wait.

A few moments later Conrad and Elizabeth Fleming appeared at the top of the magnificent staircase.

'My dear Amy!' he called excitedly as they descended the stairs. 'How wonderful to see you.'

'It's wonderful to see you too, Cousin Conrad. Did you receive our telegraph?'

'Telegraph?' He began to laugh. 'We have most things here at Wondiligong and over the river at Carrathool but not yet the telegraph. However, if you sent a telegraph it may well arrive with the ordinary mail and we'll get it on our next outing to Carrathool.'

'I'm so sorry that we've come when you weren't expecting us.'

'Don't apologize at all, Amy dear. You're most welcome any time.' Fleming took her hand and then turned to his wife. 'Elizabeth, my dear, this is cousin, Amy Roker from New Zealand and more recently from Melbourne.'

'It's a great pleasure to meet you, Amy. I've heard so many good things about you,' Elizabeth said as she also took Amy's hand.

Polly and Cedric waited patiently to be introduced. Polly noticed a quick sideways glance from Fleming and she immediately felt uncomfortable with the people and the palatial surroundings. At her side Cedric held her hand tightly and she knew that he felt the same way and after their long journey they felt weary and hungry. But if they were not welcome at Wondiligong they would have no alternative but to go back to the muddy Murrumbidgee to await the next riverboat. As Cedric looked around the interior of Wondiligong House he noticed that the floors and staircase were covered in what seemed the most beautiful carpet imaginable. All around there were hand painted wall panels decorated with gold leaf and the candelabras hanging from the high ceilings were beautiful beyond belief. He barely noticed that Miss Roker was talking again.

'Conrad and Elizabeth, this is my friend Polly Asker and her son, Cedric.'

'Welcome to Wondiligong, Polly and Cedric,' Conrad said with a warm smile.

'We hope you will be very comfortable here, my dears,' Elizabeth added.

Still smiling, but a trifle confused, the Flemings turned back to Amy for an explanation.

'I'm sorry you didn't get the telegraph. How silly of me to think that you would. Please let me explain. We wanted somewhere quiet and remote.'

Amy discreetly nodded towards Cedric, and Conrad always quick on the uptake, took Cedric by the hand.

'Come with me, young man. I've got just the thing to keep you occupied while we talk business. Do you like books, Cedric?'

'Too right, Mr Fleming.'

'Excellent. You'll find all the books you can cope with in this study.'

'Gee whiz! Thanks, Mr Fleming.'

Fleming closed the study door and returned to the three women.

'The truth is we need your help,' Amy said. Then she told them about Cedric's abduction.

'That's it, cousin, I'll understand if you don't want us here and we'll just wait for the next riverboat.'

'No. No. You mustn't do that, my dear,' Elizabeth said quickly.

'How long would you like to stay?' Conrad asked.

'Well, that's a problem too.' Amy looked at them pleading for indulgence. 'We would like to stay for about a year. Polly and I could both work, if there's work to be done.'

'Well, we have a desperate shortage of good station hands and household servants so finding work for you both won't be a problem. But tell me something.' Conrad turned his attention to Polly for the first time. 'Did I hear your name correctly? Is it Asker?'

'Yes, sir. I'm Polly Asker,' she admitted.

'I followed the Asker trials which, as you may well know, were well publicized throughout the colonies, and I've often wondered if you and your father are descended from Asker the pioneer drover.'

'Yes, sir, we are. Andrew Asker was me grandfather.'

Fleming nodded slowly as he studied Polly. Then a smile spread over his face.

'Well, Polly, I'm a third generation Fleming on this land. When my grandfather came here many years ago he knew very little about the ways of the land and if it hadn't been for the drovers who came with him he would never have survived out here. This is a cruel country for the unknowing. Fortunately your grandfather, Andrew Asker, guided my grandfather here. It's a famous name around Wondiligong and Carrathool. Anyone called Asker will never be turned away from here.'

'I'm obliged to yer, sir,' Polly said humbly. 'If there's work for us 'ere we'll do yer proud.'

'I'm sure you will, Polly,' he agreed.

Amy, Elizabeth and Conrad talked for another hour about their family connections and life on Wondiligong Station with Polly joining in from time to time. Then Conrad sat quietly for a time while the women talked about the journey from Melbourne.

'I have a suggestion to make,' Conrad said at last as he looked at Amy, 'if you'll forgive me for interrupting? I would like to suggest that, as a former governess to the children of the New Zealand Colonial Treasurer, we would be most grateful if you would take over responsibility for our four children. There would be room for you here in Wondiligong House, or the Wonderhouse, as the workers like to call it. I'm sure we can come to a satisfactory arrangement with regard to salary.'

'Thank you so much, Conrad. I'm so grateful to you.'

'With regard to you, Polly, I'm sure Elizabeth will be able to advise you of a position in due course. Whatever it is, you will be well paid, as are all our servants and station hands, and both you and Cedric can be accommodated in one of the staff houses.'

'Thank yer so much, sir.'

'Well, if that's all settled, 'Elizabeth said warmly. 'Dinner will be served in about an hour and we'd like you all to dine with us tonight.'

Chapter 133

Carrathool

'Stand just here, Cedric, and follow my arm,' Conrad Fleming said as he pointed towards the horizon.

'You see that pair of tall eucalyptus trees?'

'Yes, Mr Fleming.'

'Well those trees are about one mile from here.'

Fleming then turned and pointed his arms in opposite directions.

'Its five and a half miles to the eastern boundary in that direction and five and a half miles to the western boundary in that direction.'

'Gee whiz!'

Then Fleming pointed to the north.

'It's six miles to the jetty where you got off the riverboat and that's where the property starts.'

Fleming paused when he could see that Cedric was doing some calculations in his mind.

'So the property is six miles by eleven miles? That's only sixty-six square miles!'

Fleming smiled. Young Cedric had a good brain as well as an inquiring nature.

'Not quite, young man. You forgot to add the area between the homestead and the back boundary. That's another eighteen miles.'

Cedric calculated quickly.

'Gee whiz! That's eleven miles by twenty-four miles. Phew!'

'That's nothing, Cedric. In some parts of the country it can be hundreds of miles to the back boundary of a property and some are measured in thousands of square miles. Here at Wondiligong Station we have two hundred and sixty-five square miles of land, or a hundred and seventy thousand acres.'

'Gee whiz. Granny Ruby only has an eighth of an acre for her boarding house in Caraher's Lane and she thinks that's big!'

'Ah. But she lives in the heart of Sydney where land is always very expensive. Here it's cheap and that's the difference. How many boarders does Granny Ruby have in her eighth of an acre boarding house?'

'About thirty, I think.'

'So how many would that be if the boarding house covered an acre?'

Cedric calculated quickly again.

'Two hundred and forty, Mr Fleming.'

'Very good, Cedric. You're a clever lad. So that's two hundred and forty boarders to the acre and she earns a certain amount of money from each one, doesn't she?'

'Yes, sir.'

'And here we earn money from animals. How many animals do you think we have for each acre?'

'Don't know, Mr Fleming.'

'Well counting all the horses, cattle and sheep we have forty-six thousand animals so how many is that for each acre?'

Cedric tried to calculate again while Fleming waited patiently. Finally Cedric had to give up and Fleming came to his rescue.

'That's only one animal for every three and a half acres. So you see its things like that which make the difference. That's why we need so much land. We have forty-six thousand sheep, two hundred cattle, a hundred horses, some pigs and a few hens and the stockmen have their dogs. We also have a few acres, which grow wheat, and in addition to all that we have an area set aside for growing fruit and vegetables. There's also a small vineyard for making wine.'

'You have everything here, Mr Fleming.'

'In the outback that's the way it is. It's almost ten miles to Carrathool and almost a hundred to Narrandera and most things are too expensive there.'

'Thanks for telling me all that, Mr Fleming. I think it's about time for school to start now so I'd better go, hadn't I?'

'Yes. You'd better not be late for Miss Roker.'

Amy Roker had traveled from a small town in New Zealand to the capital at Wellington where the family lived for a time before going to England, Canada and then to Melbourne. She was comfortable with town or country life, enjoyed traveling and regarded Wondiligong as part of an ongoing adventure. She did not intend to stay permanently but had no thoughts about where she would go next. In addition to Amy's duties as governess for the four Fleming children, she also taught school for a total of twelve station children including Cedric.

For Polly it was different. She had lived her entire life in Caraher's Lane and until her sudden and unexpected trip to Melbourne she had never been more than five miles from the lane. The journey to Melbourne had been a shock to her but it did little to prepare her for arriving at Wondiligong in the middle of nowhere.

At first she wanted to take Cedric back to the Rocks in spite of the risks. Settling in the vast, empty outback would never be for her. The solitude, silence, the total blackness of the bush nights and the sheer distance from the things she held dear was too much. She missed the lanes, the buildings, the crowds of people, the noise of the city and, most of all, her friends and Granny Ruby.

As Polly thought about it she realized that she must accept her new situation for better or for worse, and for at least a year. Otherwise she would run the gravest risk of all, the risk of losing, perhaps forever, her only child. That was unthinkable. She decided that she would do anything, without any limits, to keep him and protect him.

With that decision behind her she quickly settled into the routine of her household duties at Wondiligong House. Within a month her previous experience at Ruby's Boarding House paid off with a promotion to housekeeping manageress and an extra £10 a year added to her salary.

For both women the days were long and tiring as they worked in extreme heat or extremely cold temperatures common in the outback. In the evenings they had a small amount of leisure time to read books from the extensive station library, or sew or mend clothes. Saturday was always a half day for duties and every second Sunday was a complete day off for the household staff while the station hands normally worked almost a full day on Saturdays and had every Sunday off.

A surprising number of leisure activities were available for the station's small community, including picnics and swimming at a beach on the Murrumbidgee. Fishing in the river and its numerous billabongs was also popular as well as hunting rabbits, dingoes and kangaroos. The women often spent their leisure time writing letters, writing in their diaries, or just chatting with the other women about their children or relatives far away. Backgammon, croquet, cricket and athletics were also popular.

There were the larger events too, like the Wondiligong Station and neighboring Broadview Station annual ball, when the graziers and staff of the two stations south of the river got together to kick up their heels far into the night, or even until sunrise. Throughout the region it was customary at such events to place a white line on the ballroom floor to separate the bosses from the workers, but at Wondiligong and Broadview ball the white line was ignored by one and all.

Saturday night dances were held regularly in Carrathool, the only town of any description within a day's horse ride, and a punt ride, of Wondiligong. The dances and balls were considered the most respectable places for young men and women to meet – in an environment where eligible bachelors outnumbered eligible maidens by about eight to one.

There were also hotel bars including the Woolpack Hotel at Rudd's Point, and the Railway and the Family hotels in Carrathool. At weekends, before the dances and after the Carrathool Jockey Club race meetings, they were always full to overflowing with grog swilling, ballad singing, yarn spinning patrons. Constable Gallagher and the Carrathool Court of Petty Sessions were always kept busy dealing with overzealous revelers.

The race meetings attracted a mixture of thoroughbreds and station hacks, drawn from far and wide, competing for prize money and trophies. Likewise the riders were a mixture of professional jockeys, stockmen and itinerant shearers and fencers.

For Polly getting to know the local people and making friends, in what had initially seemed to be a vast empty wasteland, made settling down a lot easier. Even for a city girl, country life gained a special charm and appeal.

After twelve months service, the Flemings granted the two women two weeks leave and with Cedric they crossed the Murrumbidgee to Carrathool where they waited for a Cobb & Co coach to take them to Wagga Wagga. From there Amy took the train south to Melbourne while Polly and Cedric went to Sydney.

Walking from the railway station to Caraher's Lane, they avoided going passed Vernon MacIntosh's house because Polly was sure that he would call the police if he knew they were back in town. As they turned into Long's Lane they could see across the corner an empty wasteland littered with the debris of long demolished buildings, garbage, weeds and long grass. Only one building remained on Caraher's Lane and it stood in splendid isolation at the other end of the almost unused street where it joined Cribb's Lane, also unused and devoid of buildings. The City of Sydney Improvement Board had been busy but they had not dared to destroy the rebuilt Ruby's Boarding House.

Cedric had been away for almost three years and it was his first sight of the new building with the name proudly painted in bold lettering along the upper level and again over the door. He stopped in his tracks, stared wide-eyed at the magnificent structure for a moment, and then began to run at full speed towards the door and his beloved Granny Ruby.

Chapter 134

Return to the Rocks

'Gran! Gran! We's home again,' he shouted in sheer delight, automatically reverting to his old Rocks slang. A moment later he threw the door open and raced inside with Polly hard on his heels.

When Ruby heard their voices from the kitchen she moved faster than she had moved for years so she could get to them for a joyful yet tearful reunion. Over many cups of tea and delicious scones they talked for hours. When the talk turned to friends who had lived nearby and Polly was shocked to hear that her old friend, Ellen Wilkinson, had died of the bubonic plague that had swept mercilessly through the Rocks some months earlier. The death of Cedric Hill, after whom her own Cedric had been named, was also a great shock. Both had been such wonderful neighbors and friends through all the years of hardship and persecution. Rose Petchell had married and gone to live near the Blue Mountains and Martha Kingston had moved out to Newtown.

As the talk continued, Polly looked through a window at the forlorn sight. She had expected to spend her entire life in Caraher's Lane and now only one building remained standing in the area around the three lanes. It could never be home again. It was wonderful to see Granny Ruby again and leaving her would be the hardest thing she would ever do, but she knew that once she left the lane again she would never return. Ruby knew it too and after Cedric had collapsed into a bed for the night she made her feelings known to Polly.

'Don't waste yer time hangin' round 'ere. There ain't nothin' left 'ere for yer. Take me advice an' get yerself back to Wondiligong cos that's where yer belong now.'

'I think yer right, Gran. But I don't wanna leave yer here on yer own. Cedric likes the outback life an' I'll be happy where he's happy.' She studied her grandmother closely for a moment while she thought it all through. She was still a remarkable woman for her age and she still did not show her true age. 'I've got an idea, Gran. Why don't yer sell up here an' retire. You've earned it, Gran. Yer could follow us out to the Riverina an' buy a nice little cottage in Carrathool where we'd all be close together. How about it, Gran?'

'That's what I loves about me blue-eyed, golden-haired Polly. Yer always got some idea or other. No, me love, I ain't shiftin' from 'ere. Did I ever tell yer I went to Parramatta once with me pa? Must have been sixty somethin' years ago. Parramatta, all fifteen mile of it, what a journey that was. Thanks me love, but no thanks. I'll be quite happy to end me days right 'ere.'

'Don't say that, Gran. Yer gonna be round for years yet.'

'That's somethin' nobody knows, but I'll tell yer one thing, there ain't no future for yer in Sydney no more. What with all the strikes an' places goin' outta business an' the banks closin' folks down an' puttin' 'em out on the street, it's the worst depression ever. You'll be fine in the country where yer can live off the land. An' yer should put them Glengyles outta yer mind too an' get on with yer life. Find yerself a nice man an' settle down.'

'I ain't never seen Sydney an' the Rocks lookin' so forlorn, Gran,' Polly replied, carefully avoiding the comments about settling down with a man.

A few days later Ruby, Polly and Cedric trudged through the muddy streets leading to the central railway station where the younger ones would start the long journey to Wondiligong under a rain soaked sky. Ruby made light work of the two-mile walk and even offered to carry some of Cedric's belongings when he began to tire.

'Yer take good care o' yer ma, Cedric, me love, an' it's safe to write now. I can always get me boarders to read yer letters to me an' I'm sure they'll write a reply too. I loves yer both. Bye, Polly. Bye, Cedric.'

'Bye, Gran.'

'Bye, Gran.'

Through tear filled eyes, Polly and Cedric watched the lonely old woman standing on the platform as the train slowly pulled away. As the rails curved they leaned hard against the window to prolong their final sight of their beloved family matriarch.

Chapter 135

The Great Depression

Back at Wondiligong there was signs that the depression which was affecting the cities was moving to the country. Conrad Fleming explained the situation to them.

'My grandfather first settled Wondiligong Station as a squatter in the 1830s. Like so many early settlers he had no legal title to the land and simply helped himself to a vast tract of it. With so much land just lying idle and so few squatters in the early days few men were ever challenged and while they employed labor and sold produce, even the Government was contented with the situation. Later, as more settlers wanted land, the Government gave the squatters fourteen-year leases, which effectively protected their land and investments – for the time being.'

'The leases acted as an incentive for the squatters to make improvements to the land, including erecting fences and permanent buildings. But as the leases started to expire the Government was under pressure from would-be small farmers, or selectors, to let them select blocks of land by ballot. So the Government decided to run ballots of 640-acre blocks, a square mile, at prices ranging from one pound to three pounds an acre. That put many squatters in danger of losing their entire investment in the land they had worked and improved for a generation and regarded as their own. To hold their land they had to take out mortgages at exorbitant interest rates, and bid for numerous land selections, either directly or through dummies who were paid a premium over and above the sale price of the land.'

'The 640-acre selector blocks in most cases were too small to be economic and gradually most small selectors sold out to the larger holdings or were foreclosed by the banks. So inevitably there was a return to larger holdings as many small farmers left the marginal land districts and, as always, the big winners were the money lenders.'

Fleming refilled his pipe with tobacco before continuing.

'A long period followed of booming prices for meat, wool and land values, triggered by the first gold rushes and sustained by population growth from immigration. That allowed the squatters, by then known as graziers, to move up in the world from their original bark humpies and temporary shacks to homesteads and finally grandiose mansions.'

He drew on his pipe again and blew a cloud of smoke into the air.

'It's easy to think the good times will last forever. Prices, particularly for wool, have started what could be a long slide and most graziers are going to try to hold on by cutting costs. The thousands of itinerant shearers who travel the back-blocks of the country going from station to station will be the first to feel the cuts. They are already forming unions and going on strike in an attempt to keep their normal rate of seventeen shillings a hundred. There's talk that the Government may send the unemployed from the cities into the country to shear the sheep and ensure that the strikes collapse.'

'I want to be perfectly honest with you regarding Wondiligong Station. Since my grandfather's time this station has had to buy back at inflated prices numerous blocks that were taken from us earlier without compensation. It's hard to maintain an economic operation when you have to do that. However, my mortgage has almost been cleared and I feel confident that I can manage my way through and emerge with my investment and the jobs of my workers intact. But there will be changes. I will not be hiring any extra workers and as workers leave they won't be replaced. Because I've reached my own agreement with the shearers, our sheep will be shorn on schedule and life will go on pretty much as usual. I'm telling you all this because you are bound to hear lots of rumors. Unless the situation declines into a full-blown depression we're going to be as safe here as anywhere.'

When Polly and Amy were alone, they talked about what Fleming had said earlier.

'I'm done with worryin', Amy. I've done too much o' that in me time already.'

'I agree, Polly. We can only do our best. That's what I say.'

Chapter 136

Harley Stockwell

The next Saturday Polly, Amy and some other workers secretly harnessed up a pair of horses to a buggy and drove along the dusty track to the Murrumbidgee punt. There they arranged with the punt man to have the punt left for them on the Carrathool side of the river so they could make their own way back in the early hours of the morning. They continued on to the dance at the St George's Church of England hall in Carrathool. Amy spent a large part of the evening dancing with Frank Wilde. Polly wondered if their friendship was about to blossom into a romance and take away another close friend. She wished them luck but she knew that she would be lonely without Amy.

Almost as a reflex action, she accepted an invitation to dance with Harley Stockwell, the overseer at Broadview Station. She had seen him from time to time at Carrathool dances, station balls and sports days. But the Glengyle ghost still haunted her and because Harley seemed keener than the other men she had declined his earlier invitations to dance. As she got to her feet to follow him to the dance floor she silently cursed herself for making a rash decision.

He was an excellent dancer and a remarkably handsome man. He guided her expertly round the floor and seemed to understand that she lacked only the experience and confidence to be a good dancer. She cursed herself again when, without thinking, she accepted his invitation to dance to the next number. Still thinking it was against her better judgment she danced with him for almost every dance until early morning.

'I'd like to do this again next Saturday,' Harley said; when it was time to go back to the river.

'I dunno about that, Harley,' she said. 'I got skeletons in me cupboard that would put yer off me for the next four hundred years.'

'Everyone's got skeletons. How about it?'

She hesitated.

'I promise you'll have fun.'

'Alright then, next Saturday night.'

The small group mounted the buggy again and made their way back to where the punt would be waiting but the punt was on the wrong side of the river and the punt man's house was in darkness. They faced a dilemma because Fleming had forbidden the use of station equipment for going to dances in Carrathool and they were unable to get the buggy across the river without the punt. Frank Wilde, whose job was probably at risk more than anyone else's because he was the Wondiligong overseer, solved the problem. He pointed to some trees in the early morning half-light.

'Look at those trees, ladies,' he said pointing away from the river. 'You might see a flock of galahs up there about to start singing. Just keep on looking until I tell you it's okay to turn around.'

The ladies obliged while the overseer stripped off his clothes and dived into the river. A few minutes later he reached the punt and brought it back to the Carrathool side while the ladies looked up into the trees again. After Wilde had dressed again they drove the buggy onto the punt and continued on their way.

All through the next week Polly thought constantly about Harley. He was such a handsome man, so gentle and fun loving and such a good dancer. She longed to be with him again. It could all be different, she told herself, if only she could bring herself to tell him about all the things that had hurt her so much. A life with Harley could be a possibility.

Polly's hopes were dashed on the next Saturday morning when Cedric woke up with a fever. She would have to stay with him rather than go to the Carrathool dance. She was sure that some other lucky lass would scoop Harley up before the dancing had finished. Disappointment, she watched her friends walk to the river late on Saturday afternoon as she settled down to mend some of Cedric's clothes.

The next morning Polly was awake early and went to check on Cedric. He was already awake and looking much better. Then she heard the dancers returning with their usual high spirited commotion.

'How's Cedric?' Amy asked.

'Better now, thanks. He'll be okay for school tomorrow. How was the dance?'

'Marvelous. Pity you couldn't have come with us. Harley was asking after you. He really likes you, Polly.'

'He's alright,' she replied trying to sound casual.

'If you ask me he's a stunner, Polly. He's organized a cricket match for this afternoon. Wondi playing Broadview, just so he can see you again.'

'Never!'

'Really.'

She leaned closer to Polly and lowered her voice.

'He's horny-hot for you, Polly.'

Polly flushed with embarrassment and tried to center the conversation on Amy's admirer.

'What about Frank? Do yer like 'im?'

'If I'd met him in Melbourne a couple of years ago I wouldn't have liked him at all. These people are different out here, the outfits they wear and the way they drawl and take all day to say something. But they're wonderful people when you get to know them and understand their ways. Yes, I like Frank. He's a good man.'

'Yer gonna marry 'im?'

'Polly! We certainly haven't talked about that.'

Polly smiled.

'Maybe yer should. It's plain as the face behind yer nose he's horny-hot fer you,' Polly said and felt that the score was even.

Just before midday the team from Broadview Station arrived on horseback with their cricket gear and picnic baskets. Harley Stockwell and Frank Wilde were both elected as team captains and the two station owners agreed to act as umpires. A coin was tossed to see which team would bat first. Broadview won the toss and Harley and a stockman went in to bat.

When Frank bowled the first ball Harley deflected it through the slips and scored the first two runs of the match. Several balls followed, bouncing passed the wicket without being struck by the batsman. The next ball took Polly, who was standing at mid-off, completely by surprise as it whistled passed her from Harley's bat. She had no chance of stopping it and Harley scored another four runs.

Several more balls whistled passed Polly and other members of the team as Harley knocked up an impressive score. Then came an awkward ball from a new Wondiligong bowler and Harley struggled to connect with it. The ball went high and Polly raced to get beneath it, caught it after a bounce and threw it quickly to the wicket keeper who stumped Harley a split second before he got back to the crease. Polly got a cheer from her team and Harley surrendered the bat.

Polly was last to bat for Wondiligong and they still needed a lot of runs to beat Broadview when she went out to the crease. But Harley took his revenge by clean bowling her with the first ball and the match was over. Broadview were declared the winners and according to station tradition Conrad and Elizabeth Fleming provided the liquid after-match refreshments from the station cellar.

'Got yer back,' Harley said as he grinned and sat down alongside Polly with a tankard of wine.

'That was nothin' really cos I wasn't gonna do no scorin' anyway. But when I stumped you that was different cos you could've got a heap more runs,' Polly countered.

'How's young Cedric?'

'Much better thanks.'

She flushed at the thought of him asking about Cedric. It was the first acknowledgement between them of the existence of her son.

Harley picked up a twig and scratched absent-mindedly in the dust as he pondered how best to continue with what he knew would be a delicate subject.

'Is that one o' the skeletons in the cupboard yer was talkin' about?'

Her first impulse was to tell him to mind his own business. But he seemed sincere.

'Cedric, is me pride an' joy. Nothin' will ever come between us, nothin',' she said, as she looked him straight in the eye.

'That's the spirit, Polly.'

'Yeah. In a way e's one o' the skeletons.'

'Yer don't have to say any more, Polly. I understand.'

'It weren't like that. Yer see I didn't have no say in the matter...' She suddenly went quiet for a moment as she looked at the ground. 'Can we talk about somethin' else?'

Harley saw large tear drops emerge from her eyes and trickle slowly down her beautiful face.

Gently he put an arm around her shoulder.

'I understand, Polly,' he said softly.

They sat together in silence for an age before he pulled her to her feet and led her further away from the crowd. Cedric was happily talking with Amy and Frank. They walked passed the mansion and sat on a seat in a quiet corner of the big garden.

'Cedric is a beaut kid, Polly, and I ain't bothered about him or anything that happened years ago. All week I been thinkin' about yer an' when yer didn't come to the dance I wondered what the dickens had happened to yer.'

'I was thinkin' about you all week too but when Cedric got sick that was it. Like I said, nothin' comes before Cedric. I'm sorry.'

'Yer don't 'ave to apologize. That's how it should be.'

They sat for a few minutes admiring the garden and watching the birds fluttering about in the trees.

'It must be really terrible to have somethin' on yer mind an' not be able to share it with anyone. It must be really dreadful.'

'Oh, I told some folks about it like me ma an' pa when they was alive, an' me Gran...'

She went quiet again.

'When yer ready for talkin', Polly, I'll be ready to listen.'

'It's just that you're a man an' it ain't the sort o' thing a man would usually understand, not like a woman.'

'You'd be surprised, Polly. I was raised in a house full o' women. Like a granny, a mother and seven sisters. When you're ready, try me.'

She looked at the ground again and dragged her shoe through the dusty grass as though drawing a line to help make an important decision.

'Okay, Harley. When I'm ready...'

Chapter 137

The Carrathool Races

The next Saturday Polly, Harley, Amy and Frank and some other station workers met at the punt early in the afternoon so that they could go to the Carrathool races before the dance. The punt man was nowhere to be seen again so they took the two station rowboats from the jetty and rowed across the river. They watched several races and the men had several bets with the bookmakers but lost their money each time. After the last race they followed the crowds to the Family Hotel where a rollicking good party was in progress.

'Come on, Harley, me ol' mate,' a stockman called above the noise when he saw them in the doorway. 'Give us yer ballad 'bout the 'orses, mate.'

'Jesus, Mate! Gimme a chance to get in the door an' 'ave a beer first.'

'Okay, mate. Here's yer beer. Drink it an' start singin'.'

Polly looked sideways at him.

'Yer never told me yer could sing.'

'I can't.' he explained. 'It's just when this mob gets sozzled any noise will do.'

Harley took the handle of beer and drained it in quick time.

'Bloody dry out there today, mate. Gimme another an' I'll think about it.'

The handle was soon filled again and Harley climbed up on the bar and turned to face the crowd. As the noise died away he took a long swig on the second drink and bent over to set it down on the bar.

Was the annual Carrathool Cup day an' they came from near and far,

From Booligal, Yerong, an' Waddi and a grazier down from Gunbar,

From Uranquinty, Boorooban, and outback Wongaloa.

They brought their fastest steeds and the champ called Shenandoah.

And Yenda Lass, Wunnamurra Way and Larry's Billabong Goer.

The men of silks and saddles were there to bring the winners home;

Mad McGuigan, Jimmy Midget Matthews and Bluey MacAlone,

Twiggy Reed and little Billy Gordon and Shifty Nipper Small.

The local stockmen were also there, hoping for the judge's call,

In station flannels and droving gear, work boots and all.

The starter was from Jimaringle, the judge from Burrumbuttock,

And the stewards all looked so grand as they rode around the paddock.

The ladies wore their finest outfits, their hats the talking point.

The punters spoke of winners, and expounded their own viewpoint,

But Shifty Nipper tossed his weights just passed the weigh-in checkpoint.

So Harry Smith on Gum Creek Boy took the weights out to the start,

And when Shifty got them back in his face the ladies heard him fart.

As the starter called them into line Shifty was still on the ground,

But Gum Creek Boy took the lead and the crowd he did astound,

When he jumped out from the start on the Carrathool fairground.

When they turned for home the heat was on Gum Creek Boy and Harry,

With Twiggy Reed and Bluey hard on his heels it was no place to tarry,

But Gum Creek Boy had done his dash; it was time to take a blower.

Then way out wide and coming up fast was the champion Shenandoah,

So Harry ran the champ across the track for his mate on Billabong Goer.

So they whipped all the wealthy graziers and their thoroughbred horses,

And vanquished the professional jockeys by uniting their crafty forces.

And with their winnings they left on a steamer for faraway Balboa,

Away from Shifty Nipper and co., and the ex champion Shenandoah,

Just Larry, Harry, the Carrathool Cup, and the champion Billabong Goer!

There was wild cheering as Harley lifted his drink in a salute to the crowd, drained it and stepped down to the floor again. Then he bought drinks for Polly, Amy and Frank.

'Yer not havin' one?' Polly asked somewhat surprised.

His eyes were sparkling as he turned to answer her,

'No, mate. I ain't much good at singin', an' I'm even worse at drinkin'. If I have anymore I'll be pissed outta me brain.'

Once again they danced until first light before retracing their steps to the Murrumbidgee River.

'Okay, it's a race!' Frank shouted as they neared the boats. 'Wondi versus Broadview. Ready, set, go!'

Everyone ran for the boats as a flock of galahs rose noisily from the gums. Harley was the first to reach the boats and immediately hauled the Broadview boat down to the water and climbed into it. Frank was only seconds behind him but both boats had to wait for stragglers. Once aboard, they rowed strongly for the other side and Polly could see that Broadview was pulling away from the Wondiligong boat. In desperation she grabbed an oar from the opposing boat and pulled it hard towards her. A Wondiligong stockman grabbed the gunwale as it came within reach and a moment later the rowboat capsized spilling its occupants, laughing, shouting and screaming, into the murky waters of the Murrumbidgee.

'I'll get yer fer that!' Harley yelled as he took hold of the offending boat. Then a moment later as more hands joined in the Wondiligong crew tipped into the water too. After much floundering, splashing and gasping for air they swam for the shore. Polly soon realized that her victim had turned the tables on her and become first her playful assailant and then her chivalrous knight errand. His strong arms lifted her effortlessly from the water and he carried her towards the shore.

'Let me go, Harley!' she protested and tried to wriggle from his grasp.

'Sure, Polly. Anytime,' he replied without hesitation and dumped her back into the water.

When she came to the surface again gasping for air, wiping her long hair from her face and trying to straighten her clinging clothes, she shouted at him.

'I meant don't hold me the way yer did. It ain't decent.'

Then she laughed at the stupidity of the whole escapade.

Once again he picked her up easily and strode through the shallow water to the southern shore where they sprawled out on the grass and soaked up the warmth of the morning sun. For a few minutes they were too breathless to speak. They saw the others wade ashore, dragging the boats, and move along the track. They listened as their chattering and laughter grew more distant and eventually faded altogether. A flock of colorful parrots wheeled and turned above them, changing from one bright color to another as they changed direction. It was a beautiful sight. Harley looked at Polly beside him.

'Yer look really stunning, Polly,' he said with an impish grin on his face.

'Yeah. It's the company I been keeping, mate,' she replied with an equally impish smile.

Harley quietly studied her small face, which in spite of her disheveled appearance, did look really beautiful. She had golden hair and smiling blue eyes. Her nose, lips, chin and cheeks seemed perfectly formed. As she lay face up her perfectly rounded breasts, clearly visible through her saturated clinging dress, rose up and down with her breathing.

'Polly, can I kiss you?' he asked softly as he leaned over her and, without waiting for a reply, gently pressed his lips to hers.

For Polly, the kiss of a man came like a lightning bolt out of the sky. It was a moment of truth. Instinctively, she drew back and pushed her little hands upward against his solid chest to shove him away. He immediately pulled back and lay beside her again as the sun dry their clothes. Overhead the birds were still circling and calling raucously. Suddenly Polly leapt to her feet.

'Hurry! We must catch up to the others. They'll wonder what's happened to us.'

As he caught up with her, Harley took her hand and they walked together in silence, dwarfed by the mighty river red gums. They came to the place where the tracks parted and he gently turned her round to face him.

'Well, Polly. It's been a beaut weekend. I can't wait till we meet again.'

'Me too. It's been wonderful, Harley...'

She looked away from him as she spoke. The skeleton had returned.

'It's Sunday now and we've got all day if yer wanna talk...'

Polly looked at the junction of the station tracks. They represented a crossroads in her life. She knew that she had to share the past with the man who could be her future. She squeezed his big hand.

'Let's sit down,' she said softly.

For a long time she sat silently staring out across the plains while he waited patiently. Silent dignified tears trickled slowly down her cheeks. Then he listened in silence as she poured her heart out.

When she had finished he put an arm around her shoulder and they sat quietly for what seemed an age.

'I'm not surprised yer didn't wanna talk about it, Polly,' he said at last. 'It's the most shocking thing I've ever heard. Actually, I did know about some of that before. I remember it being in the newspapers. I just didn't know that it was you at the center of it. The way yer tell it makes it different altogether. I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have pushed yer into telling me.'

'Don't be sorry. I wanted to tell yer an' maybe now it won't hurt so much.'

Polly turned to look at Harley through her tear-blurred vision and noticed that he had turned away from her. He seemed unable to face her. She moved around in front of him only to see him turn further away. For a moment she was puzzled by his behavior. Was he going to reject her the way Ben Bates had done after the rape? Then it dawned on her. Tears were flowing from his eyes too.

'Now I know yer really do understand,' she said sympathetically. 'Don't be embarrassed cos yer eyes is wet. There ain't no shame in that.'

She pulled him towards her and kissed him on the cheek.

He turned back toward her putting his arms around her slender waist. A long time passed before either of them could speak.

Chapter 138

Foreclosure

Three months later Amy and Frank announced their intention to marry at St. George's Church in Carrathool. Invitations were sent to a wide circle of friends from around the district as well as relatives from further afield.

Meanwhile Polly wondered about her and Harley Stockwell. Their relationship had not blossomed the way she thought it might have since the morning at the river when she'd poured her heart out to him. They still spent part of their weekends together and enjoyed each other's company, but that was it. She wondered if she had told him too much, and he was just waiting for an opportunity to end the relationship.

Then the mortgage company made the move that spelled disaster for the Flemings and the owners of nearby Broadview Station. The company decided, without prior notice, to take possession of both properties on the basis of protecting their interest in a difficult trading environment. It made no difference that neither runholder had defaulted on a payment. In both cases the runholders were given just days to leave the property and their lawyers were powerless to help them. It was a ruthless tactic often employed by lending institutions to acquire large holdings at bargain basement prices.

The new owner had already decided that both stations would be combined enabling them to lay off large numbers of workers, including Polly. Frank Wilde was to be the new manager of Wondiligong but Amy's school was immediately closed down and the children had to walk or ride horses to Carrathool every day.

Across at Broadview, Harley Stockwell was left in limbo not knowing if he was to be the Broadview manager or simply dismissed along with many of the workers. It had been almost two weeks since he had last seen Polly when he unexpectedly met her at the jetty as she prepared to board the Earl of Liverpool for Wagga.

'We're goin' back to Sydney,' she told him. 'I was going to write an' tell yer, Harley.'

'I was going to come over an' see yer, Polly, but everything's been such a mess lately,' he explained apologetically. Suddenly he looked at her in alarm. 'How long for? I mean... Are yer comin' back?'

'We're gonna stay in Sydney. We ain't comin' back, Harley. I ain't got a job here no more. Cedric will go to school in Sydney. I'm gonna miss all me friends here, including you.'

As she finished speaking she saw panic on his face.

'Don't go, Polly!' he pleaded desperately.

'I must...'

'No. Stay here. We'll get married. Cedric can go to school in Sydney. I'll pay for him.'

'You don't have to do that. I'll find a way to... What did yer say?'

'What I've wanted to say for a long time. We'll get married – if yer agree, of course. What do yer reckon, Polly? Will yer marry me?'

Polly stepped back a pace and stared at him in shock. Months ago she had expected the talk to turn to the question of marriage but it hadn't happened. Then she had lost her job and decided to return to Sydney and resigned herself once again to a life without the love of a man. Now he had thrown her plans into chaos. Before she could recover her composure Cedric took a quick step forward.

'Yes, Mr Stockwell. She'll marry you for sure, if she knows what's good for her.'

'Cedric!' Polly said sternly. 'He didn't ask yer opinion.'

Harley smiled and turned to Cedric.

'Thanks, Cedric. You're a very wise young man an' I'll be proud to have yer as me son. But it's not up to you an' me. It's up to yer ma to decide what she wants.'

'All aboard fer Wagga!' the captain shouted from the riverboat. 'Yer comin' aboard, missus?'

'Yes,' she shouted to the captain, before turning back to Harley. 'An' yes to you too, Mr Harley Stockwell. Yes, I'll be back after I've got Cedric into school.'

He leaned over and kissed her in full view of the paddle steamer's crew and passengers. Then she picked up her luggage and ran to the ship.

Chapter 139

Sydney, 1899

In spite of the long-running depression and a severe drought most people maintained a positive outlook for the future. None were more positive than Sir Henry Parkes and Edmund Barton, two of the great leaders in the unstoppable march toward the federation of the Australian colonies.

After numerous federation conferences all the colonies except New South Wales had passed the necessary federation referendums. In New South Wales the people voted against federation and a fresh vote was scheduled. New Zealand had already withdrawn from the proposed federation and Western Australia had been wavering. But a federation without New South Wales, the mother colony, and the largest, was unthinkable. Barton hurried back to Sydney to bolster the flagging campaign.

As his carriage traveled from the railway station to the Sydney Town Hall he checked the time on the gold watch fastened to a chain on the front of his waistcoat. He had time to make a detour to Caraher's Lane, something he had intended doing for a long time. But following a meeting in Brisbane it was imperative that he should return to the lane at the earliest possible opportunity.

Barton reflected on the mostly good fortune that had followed him throughout his life. First, he had been fortunate to be born into a stable and loving middle class family and, although his father had suffered a financial setback toward the end of his career, there had always been sufficient funds available for him to get the best possible education. After school he had had a successful career as a lawyer leading on to a successful career in politics. His six children had all found success in their chosen lives too. His only struggle had been financial and only during his early days as a lawyer due to slow payments by his clients. In spite of that, he always managed his finances frugally and honestly and did not deserve the reputation that dogged him throughout his political career. Keeping his cool and battling on against the odds was something he first learned about from Freddie Asker, even if Freddie did not always follow his own advice.

As his driver turned the carriage into Cumberland Street, Barton was horrified to see that much of the area had been laid to waste. Many of the buildings that he had once known were gone. But as he well knew, from the short time that he had lived in the area, rightly or wrongly, the Rocks had a reputation to live up to and he knew that the reputation was largely unfair.

As he thought about the needless, indeed mindless, destruction of the area he realized that, because of the autonomy of the Improvement Board, he was powerless to intervene even though he was likely to become the Prime Minister in the first federal Government.

Turning into Caraher's Lane Barton's heart was both saddened and lifted at the sight of Ruby's Boarding House standing in the middle of an untidy wasteland. Perhaps the board members remembered all too well their earlier indiscretion at that address. But Barton knew that eventually it would fall to the demolition gang. While it stood on such valuable land it was really holding up progress and it was just a matter of time before it vanished forever.

The main entrance to Ruby's Boarding House was wide open as an invitation to visitors and would-be lodgers to enter for an inspection. Barton climbed down from the carriage and went to the door.

'Hello, Mrs. Asker. It's Toby Barton.'

'Yer kiddin' ain't yer? Is that really you, Mr Barton?' she called to him from inside. 'Yer better come in. I'll put the kettle on fer some tea an' scones.'

'There are two of us.'

Just then Ruby appeared in the doorway looking older and smaller than Barton remembered her but he could also see that she was still light-footed, quick-witted and cheerful.

'Any o' Freddie's mates is welcome here anytime, any number. Come on in an' sit yer selves down.'

'You look in excellent health, Mrs. Asker.'

She flashed a sideways glance at him as she led the two men into the parlor.

'Hey! What's with this missus talk? Don't yer think it's time yer just called me Ruby? After all I always called yer Toby till yer got to be famous an' important.'

'All right, it's a deal. I'll call you Ruby and you'll call me Toby, which is what I like best anyway. Now, Ruby, I want to tell you about something that happened recently in Brisbane. You'll like this.'

'Will I? Don't know nothin' 'bout Brisbane. Ain't never been there.'

'Perhaps not, Ruby. But some of your grandchildren have. I met one of them at a meeting.'

Ruby suddenly looked up and again stared at Barton in shocked silence.

'That's right; Charles Asker - your grandson - Freddie's oldest. We were on opposite sides but later we met for a private chat. He's doing a lot of good work with his union and his party and I think he'll soon get a safe seat. You can be really proud of him, Ruby. He told me that his younger brothers, George and David, sometimes contact him. They're in Queensland too, working as drovers, just like their grandpa. As far as I know they're still single.'

'Is they all in good health? What else can yer tell me?'

'They're all fighting fit. Charles is married to Annie and they have two sons.'

'That's wonderful news. I can't thank yer enough, Toby. I can't blame them fer not wantin' to come back 'ere. There ain't nothin' 'ere but bad memories for them... Oh, Jesus! I forgot the tea an' scones. I'll be right back.'

'Well thanks Ruby but we should be going now. I just wanted to pass on that bit of news.'

'Now you listen 'ere, Toby Barton. If yer gonna be the Premier, or Prime Minister, or whatever they gonna call yer, yer can't do that on an empty stomach. I'll be right back.'

'You don't have to really. Jean's always telling me I need to lose weight.'

'Well, yer can tell 'er that Granny Ruby knows best,' she said as she hurried through to the kitchen with Barton following.

'What about Polly and her lad? What's his name?'

'Cedric. He's a fine young man now. Nineteen, just gone, and handsome as they come. He's on a farm at Bankstown an' he has a lovely lass called Doris an' I hope 'e marries 'er. He wants to go to New Zealand for dairy farming experience. He got interested in that when that woman that looked after him in Melbourne an' Wondiligong told 'im all about the place.'

'Polly and her Harley are the managers at Eurolie Station near Carrathool. Cedric keeps me up to date with them. It don't seem like they'll ever wanna leave there.'

'I'm really pleased for Polly, and Cedric won't go far wrong in New Zealand. New Zealand butter will soon be famous all over the world. It's a pity the New Zealand Government has decided not to join the federation.'

'Why ain't they gonna join?'

'Their Premier, Richard Seddon, wants a federation of the Pacific islands. His opponents call him King Dick. I don't believe Mr Seddon's dream will ever come about. There are too many barriers of culture, language and distance in the Pacific. On the other hand New Zealand, Queensland, Tasmania and Victoria all started as part of New South Wales and they're as alike as peas in a pod... Forgive me Ruby. I do go on a bit, don't I?'

'Yer don't need to give no apology.'

Ruby smiled at the thought of the future Prime Minister apologizing to her, a humble old woman running a back-alley boarding house.

'I ain't no expert on politics but I know that young Freddie's old mate is gonna do a grand job. Here's yer cuppa, mate.'

They chatted for another five minutes and then Barton turned to his driver.

'Come on, Sam. We must hurry. We've got to win New South Wales.'

A few minutes later he waved from the carriage as they rounded the corner into Cumberland Street and disappeared from view.

Ruby Asker stood in the doorway of her lodging house for a long time looking at the corner. A block or two away she could hear the distinctive rattle and whine of an electric tram moving along a busy city street. From the direction of the port came the unmistakable hoot of a large steamer sending a warning to smaller craft. Somewhere closer by she could hear the heavy metallic sounds of a foundry ringing out in competition with the bellow of a street hawker promoting his wares. The city had grown out of all proportion during her seventy-five years. It had outgrown her and she felt lonely in it. She could remember when she was the face of Sydney's future and in a mere flicker of time, she had become a relic of its past.

Ruby's eyes focused on the land where her neighbors' houses had once stood and she began to see her boarding house as a monument to a decimated family in a desert wasteland. Along with Dan Martin's investments, the boarding house had done nothing tangible for the family as a unit but it had increased her wealth in recent years in spite of the recession. She looked at the crude imprints that the former houses had left on the land. There was nothing to keep her in Caraher's Lane, or the Rocks, any longer. At one time she had known almost everyone living in the area. But they had all died, moved away, or been forced out.

At last she went inside and tried to put her mind to the daily chores of running her business. She was still exceptionally strong and healthy for her age and as she worked quickly to catch up the lost time, her thoughts turned to the future and a plan began to take shape.

Chapter 140

The Invitation

In the last weeks of 1900 Ruby Asker received a letter from the organizers of the federation celebrations. She was invited, at the request of the Honorable Edmund Barton, to attend the swearing-in of the first federal government and the official celebrations which were to follow at Centennial Park on New Years Day, 1901.

She struggled to read the invitation and gave it to one of her lodgers to read to her. He quickly confirmed what it meant and she asked him to write a reply accepting the invitation, but declining the offer of a seat on one of the omnibuses which had been engaged to take the guests to the celebrations. She decided that she would do what Andrew and Freddie would have done. In true Asker tradition they would have walked, just as they had walked across the colony time after time.

Wearing a cotton dress, sun hat and sturdy shoes, Ruby set out from Caraher's Lane about mid-morning and walked first to the Domain. The sun broke through a thin layer of cloud and a gentle breeze set in from the south to ease the heat of the January day. Tens of thousands of people came out to witness the occasion and to celebrate the birth of the new nation. Everyone was happy and optimistic about the future. It was a time of unprecedented goodwill between the different races and classes of people. The trains, ferries and trams coming into the city were all crowded to capacity and thousands on foot packed the procession route from the Domain to Centennial Park; a wonderful day in the history of Australia. Walking briskly passed the crowds at the side of the road, Ruby was soon overtaken by the first official carriages.

'There goes Lord Hopetown,' she heard someone say.

'Who?' Someone else asked.

'Hopetown; he's gonna be the Governor-General.'

Ruby pressed on.

'There's Mr Barton.'

Ruby turned to wave at the silver-haired Prime Minister-designate and in that instant he recognized her and ordered his driver to stop.

'You'll never make it in this heat, Ruby. Get yourself up here. Come on. There's plenty of room.'

Before she could utter a single word of protest, Barton reached down and grasped her hand. Quickly the driver leapt to the ground and with a little help from Jean Barton, Ruby was hoisted aloft and seated next to the Bartons. A loud burst of applause emanated from the good-natured crowd.

Looking down, Ruby was overawed by the size of the crowd, and the occasion, as the procession entered Centennial Park. A crowd of sixty thousand had gathered, including seven thousand invited guests and a choir of fifteen thousand singers. Splendidly uniformed imperial troops seemed to be everywhere.

As they dismounted from the carriage Ruby wanted to slip into the safety and obscurity of the crowd, but Jean Barton had already anticipated such a move and guided her firmly to a seat in the front row right by the stage.

A cheer went up as Lord Hopetown entered the arena with the clerk of the federal convention. The choir began to sing 'O God Our Help in Ages Past' and prayers were recited by the Anglican primate. The clerk of the federal convention administered the oath of office to Lord Hopetown, as Australia's first Governor-General. Hopetown made an acceptance speech and Edmund Barton was sworn in as the first Prime Minister of the Commonwealth of Australia. The flag of the new nation was raised, artillery guns boomed, cheers rang out.

Chapter 141

A New Nation

Ruby looked around the pavilion. She had unwittingly allowed herself to be placed amidst the cream of Australian society and she felt out of place. She had no idea who most of them were, but their clothes and decorum made it plain that she was not one of them. Then she saw Muriel Glengyle, daughter-in-law of Sir Walter Glengyle, widow of Dudley Glengyle. She was with her two children, Duncan and Pamela. Muriel's face revealed her every thought. Her fixed stare transmitted hatred and outrage. Ruby pretended not to have seen them and when she stole a quick look some minutes later her eyes were met by the same poisonous glare.

Edmund Barton rose to make his acceptance speech. Holding his prepared speech folded in one hand he spoke from memory as he welcomed a long list of colleagues, guests and dignitaries to the celebrations.

'...And now I want to welcome one of the most remarkable people it has been my good fortune to meet. This guest was born in Windmill Street, Sydney, three quarters of a century ago, still lives in the same neighborhood where, starting as a teen age widow, she became the matriarch to a large clan of children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She has been a driving force and inspiration to all that have known her, and I have known her since I was a lad of ten. I was a close friend of one of her sons and she made me an honorary member of the family. She is a most remarkable lady. But she also is a lady with a typical down-to-earth Australian common touch. Ladies and gentlemen, today you have sworn-in a Governor-General and a Prime Minister and if you were also swearing-in a Mother of the Nation, my nomination would be Mrs. Ruby Asker. Welcome to the celebrations, Ruby. It's so wonderful to see you here.'

Suddenly Ruby could feel sixty thousand pairs of eyes straining to get a look at her and the nearer ones scrutinizing her from head to foot. She felt uncomfortable in her cheap cotton dress among the dignitaries with their finery and fancy voices. Her face flushed red and her cheeks started to quiver uncontrollably. She wished the ground would open up and swallow her. It was a moment before she realized that the Prime Minister had moved on and was reading from his acceptance speech. Only then was she able to regain her composure. But it was marvelous that he had chosen her family for special mention. It was a great tribute to the Askers and all the other pioneers of the country.

She looked at Muriel Glengyle again and saw the same hateful stare. Ruby stared back at her until Muriel was forced to look away and Ruby was able to put the Glengyles out of her mind.

As the ceremony ended the official party withdrew to the sound of thunderous applause and universal goodwill. Soon the roads from Centennial Park were jammed with pedestrians, carts and carriages of every description including Sydney's first steam-driven, horseless carriages. The crowds were either making their way home or going on to one of the many celebrations being held in Sydney, and every other city, town and outback village across the new nation.

Ruby Asker walked briskly back to Caraher's lane. She had great hopes and dreams in her heart for the future of the nation. The sun shone brightly and no one could possibly doubt that Australia was headed for greatness.

When she turned the corner into Caraher's Lane, the sight of her old lodging house, standing forlorn and alone, strengthened her resolve to close that chapter of her life and embark on the new scheme she had been considering. First she would talk it over with Cedric, the very next time he came to visit... No. She would just do it. He might try to talk her out of it on account of her age. He was turning out to be a very wise young man but he was inclined to worry too much.

Chapter 142

The End of the Lane

Ruby Asker went to see Miles Whatman.

'Them folks that was wantin' to buy me property. They still interested?'

'I'm sure they will be. They already own all the land around yours and they need Long's, Cribb's and Caraher's lanes for a warehouse. Buying there was a good investment, Ruby, and now you can hold out for top money. They won't proceed without your block too.'

'I'll need top money fer what I wanna do.'

The company had a long drawn-out battle with Ruby over the price. They made ridiculous offers in the mistaken belief that she would be an easy mark because of her age and because she was a woman. Months later they came back and agreed to pay her full asking price. She had two months to move out after which Caraher's Lane, with all its history and heartache, and the two smaller lanes at each end would disappear forever.

When Cedric and Doris came to visit she broke the news to them.

'I'm pleased, Gran. Its time you retired,' Cedric told her and then asked as an afterthought, 'Where will you live?'

Ruby smiled and spread her hands in a sweeping carefree gesture.

'Where will I live? Sydney, Carrathool, Queensland, England, America. Wherever the call o' me family takes me. I'm gonna find an' visit every one o' them.'

'Have you gone balmy, or something, Gran?'

'No, but I was balmy to stay here all these years thinkin' they'd come back to me one day. I was wrong cos they've all got their own lives to live. I'll go to them.'

'But, Gran you're too old...'

'No I ain't!'

'But you've never traveled before. How could you start now?'

'By goin' to the friggin' bookin' agent! I've been to Carrathool. England an' America ain't much further.'

Cedric studied her in silence for a moment. He could see that her mind was irreversibly made up.

'You are balmy, Gran. But if that's what you want to do, I won't try to talk you out of it.'

'Yer sure you'll be okay without yer Gran?' she said with a curious smile.

'Yes, of course, Gran. I'm over twenty-one now, remember? And we have some news for you, Gran.'

'Oh, yeah. What's that?'

'Doris has agreed to marry me.'

Ruby stared wide-eyed at them for a moment before she found her tongue again.

'Friggin' hell! I think yer will manage without me,' she said.

Chapter 143

Cedric and Doris

It was a warm, cloudless day when the Askers and the Pankhursts and their guests arrived at the Millers Point church near the Rocks for the wedding.

Granny Ruby walked, as usual, from her new home. It was a temporary home and in a few weeks she expected to embark on the first of her long distance adventures in search of the clan. She was the first to arrive at the church, a little miffed that Cedric had given her no say in who would be invited. It all seemed a bit secretive and she had wasted no words in telling him so. He was getting a bit too big for his boots, she thought. She waited near the door.

A young woman caught Ruby's eye. At first she thought it was Polly all the way from Carrathool. It was a wonderful surprise. But she looked different somehow. What was it? The woman and her husband, beaming with happiness, were heading straight for her. But it was not Polly. Ruby stared awkwardly at the couple.

'Hello, Gran,' the woman said excitedly.

Ruby gasped and covered her mouth with a hand when she heard the voice. It wasn't Polly. Could it be...? She was like Isobel but older than she remembered her. The woman rushed ahead of her husband in great excitement. Ruby raced towards her.

'Isobel!' she cried. 'Yer home at last!'

The grandmother and granddaughter hugged and cried while James Tregoweth waited patiently to be introduced as Ruby stepped back to take another look at the kidnapped teenager.

'My, yer look lovely, Isobel, an' I always knew you'd turn up one day. I never stopped hopin'. How'd yer know about the wedding?'

'Cedric wrote me in Adelaide after I went to one of Mr Barton's meetings in Adelaide. He mentioned growing up in the Rocks and I asked him if he knew the Askers.'

'I'm gonna wring 'is friggin' neck! Cedric, I mean, not the Prime Minister.'

'I'm sure he meant well, Gran.'

'Yeah, I'm sure 'e did. He could have told me. Oh, it's so wonderful to see you again.'

'He wanted it to be a surprise.'

'Jesus, Mary an' friggin' Joseph! I always knew you'd be okay. And now here you is! Bloody marvelous.'

'Gran, this is my husband, James Tregoweth. James, this is Granny Ruby.'

'It's lovely to meet you, Mrs. Asker. I've heard so much about you.'

'Granny Ruby will do,' she shot back at him.

'It's actually Great granny Ruby several times over now, including our little Ruby Elizabeth Tregoweth, who is two years old.'

Before Ruby had time to recover from the shock, Polly and Harley Stockwell arrived. It was thirteen years since the two sisters had been together and ten years since Ruby had seen Polly. There were more embraces and tears while Harley, the singing overseer, also had to wait patiently.

More people arrived. Then Ruby saw Cedric, tall and immaculate in his top hat and tails. He was a very handsome young man. He recognized Isobel immediately and hurried to greet her. It was the first time they had met since the farcical police adoptions.

As Ruby watched the young ones she heard her name and turned round to see Miles Whatman.

'Jesus, Mary an' friggin' Joseph, you too,' she said. 'That bloody Cedric never tells me nothing these days. Pleased yer could come, Mr Whatman.'

Another large group of guests arrived and Ruby could see that some of them had the distinctive Pankhurst features so she knew they were Doris' guests and family. Then she got another shock. Striding purposefully towards her was Andrew Asker, the father of her children, dead and buried fifty-nine years, seemingly reincarnated for Cedric's wedding. Who was it? Then she knew. Ignoring Whatman she rushed forward with arms outstretched.

'Charles, me boy! You've come back!'

'Gran, it's marvelous to see you again. I'm sorry I went and left you all.'

'Yer gotta do yer own thing in life, son,' she said turning towards the petite woman at his side.

'Forgive me, Gran. This is my wife, Annie.'

'Welcome t' the Rocks, Annie, an' welcome t' the Asker family.'

'Thank you, Mrs. Asker.'

'Granny Ruby, if yer don't mind. I heard about yer from Mr Barton.'

Annie smiled.

'I hope he told you only the good things. He and Charles are on opposite sides.'

'Life has been good these last years, Gran. I'm now the Labor MP for Darling Downs,' Charles added proudly.

'Good on yer, son. I think the Askers have finally beaten the fatal bloodline that old Nathaniel talked about. An' about bloody time too.'

'Well and truly, Gran. George and David are going to be here too. I've managed to pull them away from their cattle droving for a few weeks.'

'George and David. That's wonderful.'

Then Ruby saw another face from the past. It was Cedric's old governess and teacher, Amy, and her husband, Frank Wilde. Old Harold Katterns was there too and Polly's friends, Rose Petchell and Martha Kingston.

The guests moved into the church and a short time later they heard the carriage and horses outside. Cedric stood nervously facing the altar, listening for the sound of footsteps in the aisle. Then she was at his side and reaching discreetly for his hand.

'Is it all arranged?' she whispered.

'Yes. We sail on the Elingamite next week,' he whispered back and turned his head slightly. 'Jesus! You look beautiful. Oh my, you do look really lovely.'

'You look pretty good yourself, mate.'

THE END

Acknowledgements

Nathaniel's Bloodline, and the other two books of this historical family saga series, Murder at Wairere and A Twist of Fate were made possible with the valued help of many people including Ken and Irene Ashbolt, Norman Bilbrough, the Burke family of Chiltern in Victoria, Cambridge Museum, the staff of the Family Hotel at Carrathool in New South Wales, Gale Hopper, Les Marshall, Neill and Meredith Prosser, Ray Richards, Susan Sayer and Grace and Ross Trousdell. My thanks to them all.

A message from the author

I hope you have enjoyed reading my first novel, Nathaniel's Bloodline.

What will happen next to the Askers?

Find out when you read the next two books in the trilogy, Murder at Wairere and A Twist of Fate.

They will both soon be available on Smashwords and I hope you will enjoy reading them as much as I have enjoyed writing them.

Peter Blakeborough

About the author

The author was born in New Zealand in 1937 and grew up on dairy farms. He has worked at many occupations and has owned and managed a variety of businesses, mostly in tourism and transport. He has traveled extensively and his other interests have included flying, gliding, sailing, politics and coin collecting. He is the author of seven books.
