At the sight of
the "Goer" reduced to a meek five feet, all the wrath died out of it, and
with twitching lips and twinkling eyes Mac answered mechanically, "Quite
well thank you," and then coughed in embarrassment.
That was all: no fierce blocking, no defying. And with the cough, the
absurdity of the whole affair, striking us simultaneously, left us
grinning like a trio of Cheshire cats.
It was a most eloquent grinning, making all spoken apology or explanation
unnecessary; and by the time it had faded away we thoroughly understood
each other, being drawn together by a mutual love of the ridiculous. Only
a mutual love of the ridiculous, yet not so slender a basis for a
lifelong friendship as appears, and by no means an uncommon one "out
bush."
"Does the station pay for the telegrams, or the loser?" the landlord
asked in an aside, as we went in to supper and after supper the
preparations began for the morrow's start.
The Sanguine Scot, anxious to make amends for the telegrams, was full of
suggestions for smoothing out the difficulties of the road.
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