“And now that is settled, Dad, I want you to let me ride the grey gelding this afternoon. An hour ago I went over to the yards, and Bony was riding him, and assures me he is as good as gold.”
Bony’s first horse was a grey gelding that had been regarded from birth as Marion Stanton’s own. He was a four-year-old, and out of a mare that had once won the Caulfield Cup, the second most important race in Australia. From the top rail of the horse-yards the detective had watched this beauty running ahead of a mob of a hundred wild, unbroken horses flying before the cracking stockwhips of the riders, and his heart had thrilled at the sight of him. To Stanton, who sat beside him, he had pointed out the grey, asking if it were one of the horses desired to be broken, and Stanton had said:
“Yes. I want you to break him first. He belongs to my daughter. If you can’t break a horse in properly, I want you to say so now, because if anything should happen to my daughter through your bad breaking, it is quite likely that I’ll strangle you.”
Bony had been astonished at the feeling in those words, and, looking straight at his employer, had replied gently: “I think I understand.”
When told by Marion that Bony had judged the grey gelding fit for her to ride, Jeffrey Stanton’s eyes narrowed, not however with opposition. He knew that his girl was probably the best horsewoman in the State, but he knew, too, that ten days is a very short time in which to break in a horse thoroughly. What he said was:
“You must let me talk with Bony first. You see, as yet I’ve had no sample of the fellow’s work. I must be sure before I consent.” The grim, hard lines about his mouth faded and vanished, being replaced by lines tender and rare, when he added: “I have sinned a lot in my time, girlie, but if I were to lose you the punishment would be unjustly severe.”
“Dear old Dad!” she whispered. “I leave it to you.”
Stanton left and went over to the yards where he found the half-caste “mouthing” a pert young miss with a black coat and a white blaze on her forehead. He and the filly had a yard to themselves, and Stanton, looking through the heavy rails, observed with the vision of the expert how light were Bony’s hands on the long reins whilst he walked behind the animal.
Seeing Stanton, the breaker called to the filly to stop. Instantly she obeyed, whereupon he went to her and petted her and murmured to her until the slight trembling of her limbs ceased, and she realized that Man was not so terrible as she had always thought.
“Good day, Jeff!” Bony said, strolling towards Stanton when he had removed the gear from the filly.
“Day, Bony! How’s the grey gelding?” came from the station-owner.
“Fit, I think. Miss Marion was here a little while since looking him over. I’ll try him out for you, if you like.”
“Good!”
Bony turned and opened the gate leading to the largest yard of all, wherein were twenty horses, including the gelding. Moving behind the filly, he snapped his fingers, and she trotted out to the mob all facing her way. From a corner of the small yard Bony took up a bridle, and, going to the gate, whistled shrilly with his fingers. Stanton, looking at the grey gelding, saw him hesitate. Again the breaker whistled, commandingly, imperatively. And the gelding trotted right up to him, then stood quite still whilst the bridle was slipped up his face and over his ears.
Stanton admitted to himself that Bony was a marvellously quick worker. With complete satisfaction he watched the horse being saddled. It gave absolutely no trouble. Bony mounted with swift, effortless ease. The horse stood as still as a park statue. Dismounting, he passed to the off-side and again mounted. Stanton was more than satisfied, for very few horses will permit a rider to mount on the off-side.
Now mounted, the half-caste kneed his horse close to Jeffrey Stanton, and asked him to open the outer gate giving egress from the range of yards. Stanton found Marion beside him, and when he opened the great heavy gate, he saw how her eyes were shining with anticipation and delight.
Clear of the yards, Bony walked the horse away over the deep sand for perhaps a hundred yards, then, turning, brought him back at a canter. Close beside father and daughter he dismounted, and began adjusting a stirrup-leather from which they saw hung a leather thong several feet in length fastened to a strangely fashioned buckle.
Bony faced round on the watchers, and lifted his old felt hat when he saw the girl. Stanton was on the verge of passing favourable judgment when the half-caste drawled in his pleasant voice:
“There are two occupations which I love, one of which is handling horses. Knowing that a lady is to ride this one, I have taken a little more trouble. Madam, I stake my reputation that you will find this horse the most amenable to your wishes, the sweetest-tempered, and the very finest animal you have ever ridden, or ever will ride. I wish to show you one thing to prove to you that his education is perfect. Whatever happens, please remember not to cry out.”
They saw him vault into the saddle, and then, as though he changed his mind, he slid to the ground and climbed aboard the horse as a sailor heaving himself across a donkey at a seaside resort. Stanton was delighted to see that the animal never moved until his rider spoke. The girl’s eyes widened, but she was wondering at Bony’s voice and his command of English.
He rode the gelding slowly from them for perhaps a quarter of a mile. Then he swung him round and urged him into a loping gallop. With effortless motion horse and rider swept towards them. Old and hardened in the ways of horseflesh Jeffrey Stanton admitted that he had seen no finer horse, and seldom a finer rider.
Horse and man came on, leaving behind them a cloud of brown dust to rise high in the now windless air. The pride of the horse was arresting. Nearer and nearer he came, effortless, graceful, as though he galloped across a thin red cloud.
And then, when horse and man came abreast of them, they saw Bony sway in the saddle. They saw him deliberately fall sideways. Puzzled and astonished at first, then alarmed, they saw the rider strike the ground and become enveloped in a cloud of dust. The dust rose and was wafted away. Marion wanted to scream, for Bony’s foot was caught in the stirrup-iron. And then, the wonder of it! The horse instantly stopped, swung aside his hindquarters, and stood motionless, looking round and down on the trapped man.
Stanton moved forward to help him extricate his foot from the imprisoning iron, when Bony tugged at the thong and the whole stirrup-leather came away. Dusty and smiling, he rose to his feet to say gravely:
“The only thing poor old Bony cannot do with a horse is to make him speak.”
Chapter Seven
Silver and Sapphires
A Queensland taxpayer in partial possession of the facts concerning Bony’s activities at this time might have seen reason to complain that in breaking horses he was not working for the State from which he received a salary. The complaint would not have been made, however, had he known everything.
In but few cases had the detective permitted his real avocation to become known to any of the people among whom he was carrying on his investigations, until such times as he chose to reveal it, if at all. His general practice was to drift on the scene of a crime as a swagman, make himself known to the senior police officer of the district, and to him alone, and when his inquiries were complete to lay the result before this senior police officer and unostentatiously depart. …
When he told Stanton he could break-in horses, he knew from Sergeant Morris that the squatter wanted some horses broken in. He knew also that as a horse-breaker his position could not be bettered on Windee in opportunities for visiting the scene of Marks’s disappearance. A station horse-breaker will take in hand several horses at the same time, the horses being at various stages of their training. During the final stage of breaking-in the horse is taken out of the yards and ridden in the open country.
Therefore every day after Bony had got his first horse at the last stage he rode to the junction