Jack & Harry (12 page)

‘Wonder what that's about?' Claude queried.

‘Don't know, mate, could be anything. I guess these coppers have more on their plates than just worrying about our two young runaways. Little buggers, I'll tan Jack's hide when I find him that's for sure.'

‘That's what I feel like too, Jack, but quite honestly I'll be just so pleased to see them that I'll probably forget to yell at them.' He looked up as the sergeant returned with the young officer at his side.

‘Well, Dave, better tell them the news then.'

‘News! What news?' Concern showed clearly on the two men's faces. ‘You got some news about the boys?'

‘Dave here,' The sergeant indicated the constable, ‘was down at the railway station checking on some vandalism there and mentioned your boys to the stationmaster. It seems two boys answering the description you gave us bought tickets on the train that left on Tuesday night bound for Kalgoorlie.'

‘Kalgoorlie! What the hell would they be going to Kalgoorlie for and where did they get the money to buy tickets?' Jack was puzzled.

The young constable looked at his sergeant who nodded. ‘Ahh, sir?' The young man addressed Jack. ‘The stationmaster said that the boys never queried the price of the tickets and paid cash for them. He got the impression that the cost was of no concern to them and he also noticed they had a few quid on them.'

‘I don't believe it, Jack.' Claude sounded troubled. ‘They have money on them! Where did they get that? Why would they be heading to Kalgoorlie?'

‘I'm not sure, Claude, but those Munses have something to answer to, that's for sure. Those boys are on the run for something I'm sure they didn't even do. They've obviously convinced themselves that they would go to jail over that bloody bike.'

The sergeant looked baffled so Jack explained to him and the constable what had led up to the boys' disappearance. ‘I'll put a call through to the Kalgoorlie station, gents, and alert our boys there to be on the lookout. They'll turn up,' he encouraged.

‘Kalgoorlie … on the train.' Claude said mainly to himself. ‘Yeah and do you know what, Claude?'

‘What, Jack?'

‘On Tuesday night when I drove back to Perth after I got the message about the boys I stopped at Merredin at the level crossing to let a train go through. Do you know what bloody train it was?' He continued without waiting for an answer. ‘The ‘Kalgoorlie Miner'! I was yards from my boy and didn't know it, Claude. Just yards from them both.'

Writing the letters home was a disturbing experience for both boys. When each of them had composed the one page rough note they compared what they had written to ensure neither one had divulged anything in the letters that could reveal their exact whereabouts or give a clue to any future plans. They made some minor edits then carefully, in their best handwriting, wrote their final messages to their parents.

Father O'Malley returned to his office as they finished writing and seating himself at his desk, read each note in turn, smiling occasionally to himself as he did so.

‘Well done, boys.' He looked up from the cautiously composed notes. ‘Now if you would address the envelopes I'll get these in the mail for you.' He took two white envelopes from a drawer and handed them to Jack and Harry. ‘The sooner your parents get these the better, as it will ease their concern. I dare say they will continue to worry about your welfare though, but at least they will know you are safe, to some degree.'

He stood and motioned them to follow him from the room. Walking into the bright noon sunlight the boys squinted from the glare, marvelling at how much hotter it was in the Goldfields than at home in Perth even though it was only about three hundred miles east of the coast.

‘You plan to be away for some time I imagine, what preparations have you made for suitable clothing?' The priest looked at their light cotton shirts and gabardine trousers.

He noticed Jack's elastic-sided boots and grunted satisfaction but then noticed Harry's thin-soled, laced school shoes. ‘You will need some better footwear, Harry, and both of you will need hats and some harder wearing clothes if you still plan to head into the bush. It's very inhospitable and tough country out there.' The boys looked uncomfortably at each other, aware that they were ill prepared for the journey.

‘What can we do about it, Father, can you suggest where we can get what else we need?' Jack was pleased that
his
boots were obviously acceptable.

‘Let's go and get some lunch, boys, and we can make out a list of things you will need, keeping in mind that you will have to travel light though. Don't want to be carting heavy loads with you.'

Mrs Lacey had set out a platter of cold chicken, a loaf of bread and a bowl of fresh salad on the large table. The boys weren't all that hungry having had a substantial breakfast but the housekeeper hovered over them. ‘Eat up boys; growing young men need to be well fed.' She piled more meat onto their plates.

The priest began to list items they would need for the trip. ‘I take it you have some money with you to purchase some goods?' He looked across the table. ‘I can lend you some if you're short.'

The boys were amazed at this generous offer. Nobody had ever treated them quite like this before, as grown men but they assured the priest that they ‘probably had enough.'

Father O'Malley smiled to himself and nodded with satisfaction at their honest, but wary, acknowledgment. He was not about to reveal to them that Paddy, after a few too many nips of Irish whisky they had taken together the previous night, let slip that they had had ‘a bit of a windfall, Timothy, me lad' at the two-up game.

After lunch they went with the priest to the shed at the rear of the presbytery and climbed into his ancient black Chevrolet when he backed it out of its shelter. Both boys looked anxiously at the priest as he scrunched the gears and drove off jerkily down the street with a trail of blue smoke behind them.

‘There's a camping store that belongs to one of my parishioners,' he explained. ‘I'm sure he'll be taking good care of you with what you need and will be kind with the prices.'

The store was crammed with every type of gear from swags and tents to picks, shovels, kerosene lanterns, a large selection of work clothes, boots, shotguns, rifles, blankets and various items of army surplus goods. Father O'Malley handed the man in the store the list. They each got a swag, an enamelled mug, plate, knife, fork and spoon, packets of water-proofed matches, a waterbag and canvas haversacks to replace their school bags.

They bought some heavy cotton work trousers, long-sleeved shirts, woollen socks and broad brimmed felt hats each. Harry tried on some work boots and settled, on the shopkeeper's advice, for a pair of elastic-sided riding boots similar to Jack's. ‘Easy to pull on and off,' he advised. ‘And the flat heels are good for walking.' The priest also insisted that they would need some warm clothing as the desert could get extremely cold so they added heavy woollen jackets to the growing pile of goods.

Both Jack and Harry were enthralled by the selection of firearms chained to a rack on the wall but knew they were too young to buy a rifle so each chose a Bowie styled hunting knife in a leather scabbard. When Father O'Malley saw them he wisely suggested that a knife was an essential tool but that they should consider something a little more practical and multi-purpose. They were at first disappointed but when the shopkeeper explained its features they took his advice and settled on bone handled, multi-bladed Stanley Rogers pocket knives. This purchase meant they also had to buy belts so they could carry the knives in the pouches for that purpose. Father O'Malley suggested they purchase a small pocket watch each, which they did. The watches also came with a sturdy leather pouch and these were attached to their belts as well. They left the store proudly wearing their newly purchased clothing and with swags and backpacks slung over their shoulders and hats pulled low over their eyes, imagining they were prospectors or stockmen. Their pockets were much lighter but they knew they needed the equipment they had bought if they were serious about where they were headed and they still had some cash reserves.

Father O'Malley said he would take their gear back with him to the presbytery and suggested they spend some time having a look around Kalgoorlie. He told them he had some tasks to attend to and suggested that they come back later in the afternoon to the presbytery so they could help him pack the car ready for the journey to Mt Margaret the next morning. Jack and Harry watched the black Chevy depart, a pall of smoke trailing behind it and wondered if it would even get to the end of the street let alone undertake a trip into the desert.

The first thing the boys noticed about Kalgoorlie was the width of the streets, nearly three times wider than anything they had seen in Perth. They made their way down Hannan Street, named after the Irish prospector who was credited with making the first major gold discovery in the area, and gawked wide-eyed at the buildings, many still as they were in the gold rush days.

They paused for a time to examine the statue of Paddy Hannan on the corner of Wilson Street. ‘Maybe one day there'll be a statue of us in Coober Pedy, eh, Harry? After we find all that opal!'

‘Yeah, but let's hope we get richer than poor Paddy here.' Harry pointed to the bronze figure seated on a rock. ‘I learned in history that he never made a lot of money out of the gold even though others made fortunes. He ended up on a pension from the government and eventually moved to somewhere in Melbourne. Died about twenty five years ago.'

They continued down Hannan Street past the town hall and huge Government Building complex that once housed the Warden's court, the Mines Department and the Telegraph Office. ‘Gee, Harry, look at that … pink stone!' They both looked up at the large impressive clock in the building's tower.

They were standing on the footpath admiring the impressive structure of the Palace Hotel with its verandahs and wrought iron decorations when they heard a voice calling to them.

‘It's Jack and Harry it is to be sure, how are ye, me lads?'

They spun around to see the familiar figure of Paddy O'Brien crossing the street toward them ignoring the traffic and oblivious to the angry yells from irritated drivers. He waved enthusiastically to them and they returned his greeting with equal zest.

‘Paddy!' They called with genuine pleasure. ‘Good to see ya, how've ya been?' Jack asked as Paddy leapt onto the footpath.

‘Never been finer, me lads, never been finer. Sorry I didn't say goodbye when I left the other mornin' but I had tings to do and that's for sure.' He danced a sort of mini jig, his face beaming with delight at having seen the boys. ‘Didn't think I'd be seein' yer though, thought you'd have moved along by now. Grand it is though, grand.'

‘What sort of things did you have to do, Paddy?'

‘Ahh, Jack, a few friends to be catchin' up with and a little bit of ‘the doins' to share with 'em. Which brings me to a question, lads that I wouldn't be askin' an all except we're mates?' He swept his hat from his head, holding it with both hands before him as he bowed his head in a humble pose. ‘You wouldn't be lendin' me a few bob now would yer? Just till I get m'self straight you see.'

‘A few bob, Paddy!' Jack sounded surprised. ‘What did you do with the money you won from …' He lowered his voice and looked around before continuing, ‘… the two-up game?'

‘Ahh … that's another story, it is.' Paddy looked remorseful. ‘You see I met a colleen I did and that's for sure.' He smiled wistfully.

‘What's a
colleen,
Paddy?' Harry was mystified.

‘A
colleen
,
me lads, is a beautiful young Irish lass. Well, she wasn't exactly a colleen and not exactly Irish either but she did have dark hair and sparklin' blue eyes, I'll be tellin' yer.' Paddy winked at the boys.

‘She a friend of yours, Paddy? You didn't tell us ya knew a lady here.'

‘Well, Jack …' He shifted from one foot to the other. ‘… I've not actually been knowin' her like but she was a fine lass.' His eyes sparkled at the memory. ‘Met her down in Hay Street.'

‘Where's Hay Street, Paddy?'

‘Hay Street?' Paddy suddenly looked serious. ‘You don't need to be knowin', lads, not at your tender ages but with that and a few drinks I've sort of run m'self a little short of the foldin' stuff. Anymind, not to be worryin', lads, I'll be fine and that's for sure. Now what about you, what are your plans? Has the good Father been takin' good care of ye now?'

They explained what had transpired with Father O'Malley and the equipment they had bought for the trip. They also told him that they were heading to Mt Margaret with the priest the following day ‘Not goin' in that old rattle trap he calls a car are ye, heaven forbid, lads?'