Our Selection 7 (Steele Rudd)

Chapter 7.
Cranky Jack.

It was early in the day. Traveller after traveller was trudging by Shingle Hut. One who carried no swag halted at the rails and came in. He asked Dad for a job. “I dunno,” Dad answered —“What wages would you want?” The man said he wouldn’t want any. Dad engaged him at once.

And SUCH a man! Tall, bony, heavy-jawed, shaven with a reaping-hook, apparently. He had a thick crop of black hair — shaggy, unkempt, and full of grease, grass, and fragments of dry gum-leaves. On his...