The Sweep Winner Part 10

Lin Soo grunted.

"You no fool," he said.

Bill laughed.

"How do you know?"

"You want no tea."

"What do I want?"

Lin Soo's head wagged again.

"Guess," said Bill.

"Give it up," replied Lin.

"Why did you leer at the girl we had with us? You frightened her, you oily beast," said Bill.

Lin Soo started back. This was evidently unexpected, and Bill was a formidable fellow to tackle.

Lin Soo protested he had not stared at her. Lots of silly women were frightened at Chinamen--why he didn't know. They had no cause to be.

"They have every cause," said Bill. "Chinamen have ruined many white women. Some of you yellow dogs buy and sell our girls, and trade them to human beasts, who disgrace their colour. They're worse than you fellows."

"Much worse," agreed Lin. "You know about it?"

"About what?"

"Trading in white girls."

"Yes, you scoundrel. I expect you've been at it."

Lin Soo protested. He was a good Chinaman,--not one of that sort.

Bill noticed the leer in his eyes, and concluded he was a deep-dyed rogue.

"Have you ever been out West?" he asked out of curiosity.

Lin Soo said he had. A few years ago he had business in Bourke.

Bill became interested. What took him to Bourke?

Dealings with a big man, a man of money. He did not live at Bourke, but he met him, Lin Soo, there.

"What sort of dealings?" queried Bill.

Lin Soo would not disclose them.

Bill questioned him for some time, and discovered that he might smoke opium there if he wished; also that he might gamble for a considerable sum if he so desired.

He left the shop, wondering what had induced him to waste his time there.

Lin Soo watched him go up the street, scowled after him, called him bad names and cursed him in some horrible guttural way.

"You sneaking round me," he said. "Better take care. Lin Soo stand no fool play. Me stare at white woman! Why not? Me had dealings with many white women. Business in Bourke with what you call squatter and white woman. Tell him? Not muchy!"

Bill walked into Pitt Street. When he came to the corner of Market Street he stopped and stared.

That looks uncommonly like Craig Bellshaw, he thought.

The man he had seen turned round and came towards him. It was Bellshaw.

He saw Bill Bigs and recognised him.

"You here, Bigs? What brings you to Sydney?"

"I've sold out."

"Have you? Tired of Boonara, eh?"

"It's hardly a paradise as you know, and I got a good price for the place, so I thought I'd quit."

"I expect you've knocked up a nice little pile out of the natives, the fencers, and my men, shearers, and so on. I had a nip or two at your shanty. I can taste it yet. What horrible stuff you sold," said Craig.

"No worse than others sell. No worse than the man who bought me out will sell."

"Who bought you out?"

"Don't you know?"

"How should I?"

"Garry Backham. He paid cash down, too. I wonder where he came by it? I don't suppose you've been over liberal with him," said Bill. He watched Bellshaw as he spoke, and the squatter returned his glance without a flicker.

"Garry's bought you out? I wondered why he wanted to leave me," replied Bellshaw.

He's lying, thought Bill, and wondered why.

"He'll not find it all profit," said Bill.

Bellshaw laughed.

"I don't expect he will," he agreed. "Who's there now looking after the place?"

"He is."

"You mean he's left Mintaro and gone to Boonara?"