CHAPTER XII
THE MEN AT THE HUT
"Irralie!"
"Mr. Fullarton!"
"Well! what in blazes brought him here?"
The three speakers stood aghast in a common stupefaction. It was impossible to choose between their blank, incredulous faces. But Stingaree's eye-glass was swinging on its cord; and he turned upon huge Howie with the savage alacrity of a man uncertain of his friends.
"Easy does it, mister; he's all right," responded Howie, in a heavy deferential manner that fitted him no better than Fullarton's clothes. "'E's done brown; come here to get the deaf 'un to go back with 'im and swear 'e wasn't Stingaree! So 'e tum-
