The old man had a circular slab of bread and jam in his left hand, and was grinning fraternally at Dick.

There was a third visitor, a stranger, a brown-haired, brown-skinned, bony young man, dressed after the manner of a drover.

He had a small moustache, and a grave, taking face.

He looked like a bushranger, Dick thought admiringly.
'This is Richard, Henry,' said Mrs.Hardy.
'You don't know me, eh, Coppertop ?' said the young man, taking the boy's hand.
'Harry Hardy,' said Dick at random.
'Well, that's a good enough guess, young fellow Dick fell back quietly.

It was, he felt, a moment when an air of sadness and a retiring disposition would be likely to be most becoming in him--and most effective.