CHAPTER 2In the words of the old-timers work on the new road went to hell next day. At an early hour Jim Lockran pulled up in front of the log shack that served for barracks and called Sergeant Brinklow out. There was a curious change visible in the hard-boiled Jim, a new light in his compelling eyes. The only thing true to the old Jim was that he didn’t give a damn who saw what had happened to him. Nobody would have ventured to josh him anyhow.
“Brink,” he said, “will you detail McNab to accompany the governor’s party into the bush to-morrow? His Nibs wants to have a red coat in the party to give it an official character with the natives.”
“Sure,” said Brinklow. He called McNab out. “Mac, you’re to go with the governor to-morrow.”
McNab’s heart was greatly lifted up. It would be a plea
