A Bid for Fortune | Page 7

man's been shut away from theatres and amusements
for years at a stretch, he can put in his time pretty well looking about
him. All the same, not knowing a soul in the place, I must confess there

were moments when I did think regretfully of the little island hidden
away up north under the wing of New Guinea, of the luggers dancing to
the breeze in the harbour, and the warm welcome that always awaited
me among my friends in the saloons. Take my word for it, there's
something in even being a leader on a small island. Anyway, it's better
than being a deadbeat in a big city like Sydney, where nobody knows
you, and your next-door neighbour wouldn't miss you if he never saw
or heard of you again.
I used to think of these things as I marched about the streets looking in
at shop windows, or took excursions up and down the harbour. There's
no place like Sydney Harbour in the wide, wide world for beauty, and
before I'd been there a week I was familiar with every part of it. Still, it
would have been more enjoyable, as I hinted just now, if I had had a
friend to tour about with me; and by the same token I'm doing one man
an injustice.
There was one fellow, I remember, who did offer to show me round: I
fell across him in a saloon in George Street. He was tall and handsome,
and as spic and span as a new pin till you came to look under the
surface. When he entered the bar he winked at the girl who was serving
me, and as soon as I'd finished my drink asked me to take another with
him. Seeing what his little game was, and wanting to teach him a lesson,
I lured him on by consenting. I drank with him, and then he drank with
me.
"Been long in Sydney?" he inquired casually, as he stroked his fair
moustache.
"Just come in," was my reply.
"Don't you find it dull work going about alone?" he inquired. "I shall
never forget my first week of it."
"You're about right," I answered. "It is dull! I don't know a soul, bar my
banker and lawyer."
"Dear me!" (more curling of the moustache). "If I can be of any service

to you while you're here, I hope you'll command me. I believe we're
both Englishmen, eh?"
"It's very good of you," I replied modestly, affecting to be overcome by
his condescension. "I'm just off to lunch. I am staying at the Quebec. Is
it far enough for a hansom?" As he was about to answer, a lawyer, with
whom I had done a little business the day before, walked into the room.
I turned to my patronising friend and said, "Will you excuse me for one
moment? I want to speak to this gentleman."
He was still all graciousness.
"I'll call a hansom and wait for you in it."
When he had left the saloon I spoke to the new arrival. He had noticed
the man I had been talking to, and was kind enough to warn me against
him.
"That man," he said, "bears a very bad reputation. He makes it his trade
to meet new arrivals from England--weak-brained young pigeons with
money. He shows them round Sydney, and plucks them so clean that,
when they leave his hands, in nine cases out of ten, they haven't a
feather left to fly with. You ought not, with your experience of rough
customers, to be taken in by him."
"Nor am I," I replied. "I am going to teach him a lesson. Come with
me."
Arm in arm we walked into the street, watched by Mr. Hawk from his
seat in the cab. When we got there we stood for a moment chatting, and
then strolled together down the pavement. Next moment I heard the cab
coming along after us, and my friend hailing me in his silkiest tones;
but though I looked him full in the face I pretended not to know him.
Seeing this he drove past us--pulled up a little farther down and sprang
out to wait for me.
"I was almost afraid I had missed you," he began, as we came up with
him. "Perhaps as it is such a fine day you would rather walk than ride?"

"I beg your pardon," I answered. "I'm really afraid you have the
advantage of me."
"But you have asked me to lunch with you at the Quebec. You told me
to call a hansom."
"Pardon me again! but you are really mistaken. I said I was going to
lunch at the Quebec, and asked you if it was far enough to be worth
while taking a hansom.