CHAPTER XXI

BACK TO BILLABONG And thro’ the night came all old memories flocking, White memories like the snowflakes round me whirled; “All’s well!” I said. “The mothers still sit rocking The cradles of the world!” —_W. H. Ogilvie._ “SO you’ll come?” David Linton asked. “Yes, and glad to.” Jack Archdale pulled at his pipe, which would not draw. He took it out of his mouth, shook it, and put it back again with a shrug. It needed a grass stalk to clean the…