George Chard had been transferred from the red desert of Gilgargery to the Rivers. The bank for which he laboured was one of the institutions of the country. Its clients lay chiefly among the Western pastoralists. The bulk of its business was done on mortgages.

When George entered the service of the bank, through the influence of his uncle, Tobias Chard, his prospects had appeared in the colours of the dawn; now they were set in more of a winter-grey perspective.

Tobias Chard was the proprietor of an immense run in the nor’-west. His younger brother, George’s father, having no business instinct, and a depraved taste for water-colour, was a clerk in the Crown Lands Office. He was blessed with a family of five girls and a boy. Tobias, the bachelor, declared that his brother had been improvident in all things.

It was impossible to give young George a profession, so the uncle was persuaded to use his[135] influence—ungraciously—with the Bulk and Bullion, Limited, to secure his nephew a junior appointment.

As the balance of Tobias Chard was great, and his herd and flocks numerous, this was a mere matter of an interview with the directors.

Next week Chard, junior, received a note from the Board to say that his application for service had been favourably considered.

He entered upon his duties at the copying press with a strong determination to work himself up to the position of city manager.

His chances were not too remote, inasmuch as that he had Uncle Tobias’s big account behind him.

Nothing in this world will help an ambitious young man along in a bank like the influence of a solid banking account.

But three consecutive droughts struck Uncle Tobias, and he mortgaged.

That was the beginning of a rapid end. The Lord sent him a rot among his sheep. The devil followed with a law suit. The homestead was burnt out. Misfortune followed misfortune, and Tobias, being no Job, lost patience, and died of a sudden stroke of paralysis.

Everything remained in the hands of the bank. The stoop-shouldered brother in the Lands Office got nothing. The patient little, white haired old-young woman, for whom George would have laid down his life at any moment, got nothing. None of the five girls, nor George, received a shilling.

And the property turned out to be one of the worst speculations in which the bank had put money.

[136]

If George had had any station experience he might have been sent up to look after things, and having some sort of personal or family interest in the matter he might have recovered on the bank’s bad investment; but as he had no experience on the run, the B. and B., Ltd., transferred a man from one of their foreclosures on the South Australian Border to act as manager. This man had no organising faculties; he was, moreover, out of his latitude, and the property began to rapidly represent a dead yearly loss to the B. and B. These things did not improve the prospects of George Chard.

In some indefinite way he was connected in responsibility with Uncle Tobias, who it was felt at headquarters, had deceived the Board of Directors.

The Directors did not know that Tobias’s run, with proper handling, might be made to pay twenty or thirty per cent. But the lesson had been pretty clearly taught in New South Wales and Queensland during past years that financial institutions cannot conduct stations from a metropolitan head office. Nor is it good for either institution or the country that they should make the attempt.

As George Chard grew in years and knowledge, he learned that merit is most frequently its own reward. He saw his juniors the sons of rich men or of men who had rich relatives, promoted over his head. He was sent out relieving in the far back country in summer time.

His father died, leaving the mother and five girls mainly dependent on him. The girls were good girls,[137] and they wanted to sell up the home, representing all the Chard assets, and to leave the country town, where they had spent so many tranquil years, and go to Sydney and earn a living.

But George had been in the head office in Sydney for six months before the demise of Uncle Tobias, and he knew what making a living in Sydney meant for girls like his sisters.

So he existed cheaply, and sent the balance of his cheque home every month—to keep the house going. He applied for a removal to the country town where his people were, but there was no vacancy. The chief grocer’s son was in the bank and as he showed decided proclivities to the waste and loose-living of cities, his people wanted to keep him under personal surveillance. The grocer had an account in the bank. The transfer of his son against the family wishes meant a transfer of the family accounts, which were large. The manager stated these facts to the Board, and the Board intimated to George Chard that his application for removal had been taken into consideration, and the Board could not see its way clear to comply with his request.

George allowed a decent interval of two years to elapse, and respectfully applied for a rise in salary.

The Board was pleased to graciously consider his request, added ￡10 a year to his salary, and sent him up north to a small branch under an acting-manager who was known throughout the B. and B., Limited, as a “pig.”

George Chard, leaning over a ledger in his box of[138] an office by the river bank, the galvanised roof above him crackling under the awful heat, considered the general injustice of things with a sore heart.

But when the pig was more hoggish than usual, he forced up before his mind a picture. It was a homely enough picture of a cottage with a pepper-tree growing in front and a grapevine tr............