CHAPTER I.
SILLY SENTIMENT "It's time I set about making my own living," said Dot Burton.
She spoke resolutely, and her face was resolute also; its young lines were for the moment almost grim.

She stood in the doorway of the stable, watching her brother rub down the animal he had just been riding.

Behind her the rays of the Australian sun smote almost level, making of her fair hair a dazzling aureole of gold.

The lashes of her blue eyes were tipped with gold also, but the brows above them were delicately dark.

They were slightly drawn just then, as if she were considering a problem of considerable difficulty.
Jack Burton was frankly frowning over his task.