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Turner, Ethel Sybil, 1872-1958

"Seven Little Australians"


"I'm sure we could manage it especially as it's Saturday, and Pip
hasn't to go to school," Judy continued, thinking it rapidly out.
"Two of you could go and get some food. Tell Martha you are all
going for a picnic--she'll be glad enough not to have dinner to
set--then you go on. Two others can watch if the coast's clear
while I get down and across the paddocks, and once we're at the
corner of the road we're safe."
It seemed feasible enough, and in a very short time the preparations
were all made. Pip was mounting guard at the shed, and had undertaken
to get Judy safely away, and Bunty had been stationed on the back
veranda to keep cave and whistle three times if there was any danger.
He was to wait for a quarter of an hour by the kitchen clock, and
then, if all was well, to bring the big billy and a bread loaf,
and catch the others up on the road.
It was slow work waiting there, and he stood on one leg, like a
meditative fowl, and reviewed the events of the last few exciting
days.
He had a depressed feeling at his heart, but why he could hardly
tell. Perhaps it was the lie he had told his father, and which was
still unconfessed, because the horse was seriously lame, and his
courage oozed away every time he thought of that riding-whip.


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