In a few minutes Jacko was standing by the young squatter's bedside, and Harry Heathcote, quite awake, was sitting up and listening.

"George Brownbie's at Boolabong." That at first was the gravamen of Jacko's news.
"I know that already, Jacko." "My word!" exclaimed Jacko.

In those parts Georgie Brownbie was regarded almost as the Evil One himself, and Jacko, knowing what mischief was, as it were, in the word, thought that he was entitled to bread and jam, if not to a nobbler itself, in bringing such tidings to Gangoil.
"Is that all ?" asked Heathcote.
"And Bos is at Boolabong, and Bill Nokes was there all Sunday, and Jerry Brownbie's been out with Bos and Georgie." "The old man wouldn't say any thing of that kind, Jacko." "The old man! He knows nothing about it.

My word! they don't tell him about nothing." "Or Tom ?" "Tom's away in prison.

They always cotches the best when they want to send 'em to prison.