He nodded. “I’ll be in on Thursday, or Friday at the latest. I’m going up to the top end tomorrow for a couple of days, just to see what’s going on.”
She smiled. “Looking after the poddys?”
He grinned. “That’s right. It’s a bit difficult this time of year, in the dry, because the tracks don’t show so good. I got a boy called Nugget on the station now, and he’s a bonza tracker, oh my word. I’m taking him up with me. I’ve got a kind of feeling that Don Curtis, up on Windermere station, he’s been at my poddys.”
“What would you do if you found tracks, then, Joe? Tracks leading off your land and on to his?”
He grinned. “Go after ’em and find ’em and drive ’em back,” he said. “Hope Don doesn’t come along while we’re doing it.”
He drove her into Willstown at about nine o’clock that night; th
