The Court was not very full. The \'fellow-workers\' to whom Stoate so often referred had made up their minds about him. Open warfare, rioting, plunder, even arson or bloodshed, in a moderate degree they would have condoned. But to be caught in the act of setting fire to a Run, and detected with a stolen cheque in your pocket—that cheque, too, belonging to a shearer—these were offences of mingled meanness and malignity which no union Caucus could palliate. \'He\'s a disgrace to the Order; the Associated Workers disown him. The Judge\'ll straighten him, and it\'s hoped he\'ll give him a good "stretch" while he\'s about it.\'
This was the prejudicial sentence. And having made up their minds that their over-cunning ex-delegate by dishonourable imprudence had played into the hands of the enemy, few of the unionists took the trouble to attend, for the melancholy pleasure of hearing sentence passed on their late comrade and \'officer.\'
So, the evidence being overwhelming, the jury found Mr. Stoate guilty, and the Judge, having drawn attention to the recklessness and revengeful feeling shown by the prisoner—not halting at the probable consequences of a crime against society, by which human life might have been endangered, if not sacrificed—sentenced him to five years\' imprisonment with hard labour. He was immediately afterwards arraigned on the charge of \'stealing from the person,\' and the sergeant\'s evidence, as well as that of Hardwick, was shortly taken. Being again found guilty, he was sentenced to two years\' imprisonment—which, however, the Judge decreed to be concurrent, trusting that the longer term of incarceration might suffice for reformation. In conclusion, he again congratulated William Hardwick on the 124recovery of his money and his character, both of which he had so nearly lost through association with men who had banded themselves together to defy the law of the land, and to attempt illegal coercion of workmen who differed from their opinions.
Such associations often led to consequences not foreseen at the time. Many a man had cause to blame them for loss of liberty, if not life. He trusted that this lesson would be received in the way of warning, and that he and all honest working-men who had witnessed the proceedings in this Court would go home resolved to do their duty in their own station of life, not following blindly the lead of agitators, however glib of speech, who might prove as unprincipled and dangerous guides as the prisoner who had just received sentence.
No time was lost, it may be imagined, by Bill and Jenny in \'clearing,\' as they expressed it, for Chidowla. The coach for Tumut held a very cheerful load when he and she, in company with Dick Donahue, who had covered himself with glory, and had a satisfactory outing as well, took their seats. Bill wished to cash his newly-found cheque, but Jenny—practical as usual—persuaded him to give it to her for transmission to Mr. Calthorpe.
\'I brought down a pound or two that I\'d got stowed away, and there\'ll be just enough to take us back without breaking the cheque. Mr. Calthorpe\'s stood by us, and we must do our level best to get square again, and show the bank as he knows the right people to back. I\'ll go bail we\'ll do it inside a year, if we don\'t have any more delegate and union business, eh, Bill?\'
\'No fear!\' replied Bill with emphasis. \'I\'m another man now, though I won\'t get the feel of them handcuffs off me for a month o\' Sundays. I\'m goin\' to be a free labour cove, to the last day of my life. And Janus Stoate\'s where he wanted to put me, d—n him! I hope he feels comfortable. But I\'ll never give the clever chaps as lives on us fools of shearers a chance to work such a sell again. Dick, old man, you stood to me like a trump. We must see if we can\'t go in for a partnership, when we\'re turned round a bit. What do you say, Jenny?\'
\'I say yes,\' said Jenny, \'with all my heart. Biddy\'s milkin\' those cows of ours now, or I don\'t know what I\'d \'a 125done. I believe if we put both our selections into a dairy farm we could make money hand over fist. But we must have more cows; this cheque of Bill\'s—and Jenny slapped her pocket triumphantly—now we\'ve got it, will buy near a dozen, and we\'ll soon make a show.\'
Dick Donahue, for the first time in his life, found hardly anything to say. He gripped both their hands, but brought out little more than \'Thank ye, thank you both! You\'ve given me a new lease of life, and I\'ll—I\'ll keep my side up—now I\'ve something ahead of me, or my name\'s not Dick Donahue. Thank God, it\'s a grand season, and that gives us a clear start, anyhow.\'
When they arrived at Tumut—some time after dark, but all well and happy—they found Biddy awaiting them with the spring cart, which she had driven over. There were a few stumps on the road, but Bill\'s eyes were good, so that they got home safely and with a superior appetite for the supper which Biddy had set out for them. This they discussed with their friends, who had much to hear and tell; after which the Donahues drove away and left them to the enjoyment of their home, which looked like a palace to Bill, after his misfortunes and adventures.
They were both up, however, before sunrise next morning, and at the milking-yard, where they found everything just as it should be. In the dairy, moreover, there was a keg of butter three-parts full, which Biddy had made during their absence. Bill was thinking of going into Talmorah after breakfast, when a boy galloped up with a letter from Mr. Calthorpe, requesting him not to come in till Saturday (the day after next), as a few friends and fellow-townsmen wished to meet him at two o\'clock at the Teamster\'s Arms to show their regret at his undeserved persecution, and to present him with an Address, expressive of the same.
\'Bother it all,\' said Bill, \'I wish they\'d let a fellow alone. I suppose I shall have to make a speech.\'
\'Oh, you must go,\' said Jenny. \'Mr. Calthorpe wants you, and we mustn\'t be ungrateful after all he\'s done for us. Besides, didn\'t you make one at Tandara, when the shed had cut out, after "long Jim Stanford" euchred the Head Centre at Wagga? My word, you were coming on then; next thing you\'d \'a stood for Parliament, or been elected delegate, any way.\'
126\'See here, Jenny,\' replied Bill. \'I suppose I\'ll have to say something when they give me this Address, as they call it; but after that\'s over, if any one but you says a word about our "feller-workers" or "criminal capital," or any bally union rot of that kind, I\'ll knock him over, as sure as my name is Bill Hardwick.\'
Bill and Jenny went into Talmorah a little before twelve o\'clock on Saturday morning, the former to meet his friends, and the latter to pay in the celebrated cheque to their account, and have a few words with the banker; also, to make quite sure that Bill didn\'t have more than a whisky or two on the auspicious occasion. When the meeting was assembled in the big room at the Teamster\'s Arms, they were astonished at the number of townspeople that turned up. Some, too, of the neighbouring squatters appeared, whom they only knew by name, and that Bill had never worked for. The clergyman, the priest, the opposition banker, the storekeepers, great and small, were there—in fact, everybody.
Saturday afternoon in country places is a recognised holiday, except for shop assistants; and as they have on other days of the week much leisure time on their hands, they do not object. It is a change, an excitement, and as such to be made the most of.
A long table had been laid on trestles in the \'hall\' of the principal hotel, a room which had been used indifferently in the earlier days of Talmorah, when it was a struggling hamlet, for holding Divine service, police courts, and \'socials,\' which included dancing, singing, recitations, and other expedients subversive of monotony.
Couples had been married there by the monthly arriving minister; prisoners sentenced to terms of imprisonment, even hanged, after depositions duly taken there and the verdict of a coroner\'s jury. Political meetings had been held, and on the election of a member for the district it had been used for a polling booth, so that it was well and favourably known to the inhabitants of the town and district, and no one had any difficulty in finding it. It was now more crowded than on any occasion recalled by the oldest inhabitant.
Mr. Thornhill, the principal landowner in the district, holding the position by reason of his wealth, power, and popularity, 127which is generally yielded to the squire in the old country, was unanimously elected chairman, and opened the proceedings.
\'Ladies and gentlemen,\' he commenced—\'for I am pleased to see so many of the former present, as also my good friends and neighbours in the district, who have worked with me in peace and harmony for so many years—(murmur of applause)—we are met together this day to do an act of simple justice, as well as of neighbourly kindness, by welcoming back to his home and friends a man whom we have all known personally or by report as an honest, straightforward, industrious settler. A man of small means, but a son of the soil, and the head of a family. (Interjection—"No; Jenny\'s the boss.") (Laughter.) My friend who corrected me, doubtless with the best intentions, is aware, as I am, that a good wife is the very sheet-anchor of success in life—(cheers)—and that probably, if our friend Hardwick had taken her counsel rather than that of agitators and false friends, he would not have suffered the pecuniary loss, anxiety, and—er—inconvenience which we so deeply regret this day. (Great cheering.) However, that is past and gone; we have now a pleasurable aspect of the case to dwell upon. We congratulate our friend, Mr. William Hardwick, and his good and true wife, upon their return to their home and their neighbours, by whom they are so deservedly respected. (Immense cheering.) In this connection it should not be overlooked that the high character, the result of years of honest industry, neighbourly kindness, and upright dealing, was of signal advantage in the time of need. By it they had gained staunch friends, who stood by them in the day of adversity. Mr. Calthorpe, the manager of the Bank of Barataria, had done his best for them, and they knew what a power for good a gentleman in that position could be in a country place. (Loud cheering.) Their neighbour, Mr. Donahue, had mustered important witnesses for the defence in a manner which only a good bushman,............