_{By J. H. HEATHCOTE}

IN the cool of the evening of December 24 a poorly-clad woman could be seen pushing a home-made cart along the one and only street in a certain far-western township.

In the cart was a young child and following the woman were two older sad-eyed youngsters. The woman hesitated in front of the hotel. She seemed to be considering whether it was safe to go in, as many men were in town for Christmas, and some of them were already drunk.

The publican smiled when he saw her, for he knew that her errand was to ask the strangers in the bar-room if any of them had met her husband out-back. The publican helped her out. “Any of you chaps from out-back come across a bloke name of Billy Bly?” he asked. “No,” replied a man known as “Gentle Annie;” then after a moment’s thought several others replied in the negative.

“What sort of a fellow is he, missus?” asked Red Mick. “A tall, fair man,” she answered. “A bit of a singer, missus?” “Yes; that’s him,” she exclaimed excitedly. “Have you seen him?” “No; can’t say as I have,” said Mick.

Mrs. Bly was disappointed and turned sadly away. Red Mick followed and asked some questions about the missing husband. “He left just after last Christmas to catch an early [shearing] shed on the Barcoo,” said the woman. “I think he said Northern Downs, and he promised to be home, for Christmas.” “Well, missus, he’ll have to get a move on to be here this Christmas.”

“Christmas!” chimed in one of the children. “Oh, Mummy, I wonder if Santa Claus will come?” “No, deary; there won’t be any Santa Claus this Christmas,” said the woman, patting the little girl’s touselled head.

Red’s thoughts wandered back to his own childhood, to those dreary days when he often went to bed as hungry as those children looked. “Well, so long, missus. I’m sorry I can’t tell you anything about your husband,” he ejaculated.

When Red returned to the bar-room he had to stand a lot of chaff from his mates and others, but none of them dared go too far, for Red Mick was one of the “roughies” of the West. He could have told Mrs. Bly a good deal about her husband, but he knew it would only have upset her.

In the seclusion of his room at the hotel his pockets, when emptied, panned out 22 pence in cash, several dice, a two-headed penny, and a pack of cards. The dice he examined critically, choosing a set of two, which he put into a separate pocket. Like all these men who live by their wits, he had his good and his bad times. It was bad with him this Christmas Eve.

“Well,” he thought, “these men have money, so it will be hard luck if a little doesn’t come my way.”

At 10 by the clock Red was in one of the large general stores buying tea, sugar, tinned fruits, and biscuits, lollies, and other articles. The goods he placed in a case; then with a “good night and Merry Christmas” to the storekeeper shouldered the case and went out into the night. He hadn’t walked more than a hundred yards when a voice called out of the darkness: “Where are you going, Mick?” “Oh,” said Red, “it’s you, sergeant?” “Yes. What you got in that case?” “Only stores, sergeant.” “Where did you get them?” “At Jones’s store.” “Well, come on and we’ll see Mr. Jones.”

The storekeeper was shutting up when the two arrived.

“Did this man buy some stores this evening?” Mr. Jones. “Yes, sergeant; there’s the list.” The sergeant read the list. “Yes, I see,” he said. “It comes to £5 exactly.” “How did he pay you?” “With a £5-note.” “Let me have a look at the fiver.” The number of the note tallied with one that had been stolen earlier in the evening from a man at the Royal Hotel.

“Hard luck, Mick,” remarked the sergeant. “I am afraid you’ll have to spend Christmas with us. But what’s the game with these stores?”

“Before you lock me up, sergeant, just allow me to put this case at Mrs. Bly’s door,” replied Mick, “but, remember, she’s not to know who left it. I want her to think her husband sent it. ‘Santa Claus.’ Savee?”

Mick left the case at the woman’s door. “Now, sergeant, you can lock me up and then go and rouse Mrs. Bly. Someone, you know, might ‘pinch’ the case before morning. And, mind, sergeant, you and the trooper know nothing.” Mrs. Bly was surprised when the sergeant and the trooper carried the case into her home, and cried with excitement and happiness as she unpacked eatables, dress material, toys, and lollies for the children. Red had his Christmas dinner with the sergeant and his wife. After the holidays he was brought before the police magistrate who had been told the story by the sergeant before he came on to the Bench.

Red pleaded guilty. Said the P.M. to the complainant: “If the prisoner refunds you the £5 I take it you’ll be satisfied?” “Oh, yes, sir!” To Red: “Can you find £5?” “No hope in life, sir; no one would trust me with a fiver.” “I’ll lend you a fiver,” exclaimed a stranger in the court. To Red the P.M. said: “You can go.” In the privacy of his room the P.M. re-marked to the sergeant: “Well, that was a case of the end justifying the means if ever there was one.”

_{– First published in the Sydney Mail, 7 December 1932.}

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Categories: Australian Hotels

Tags: Christmas, Outback, Royal Hotel