 From the studios of books in motion, this is Beth Richmond, reading Outback Legacy, book number five in the Outback series by Aaron Fletcher. Now let's begin with Outback Legacy. Part One Chapter One The sharp throbbing pain in Alfie's chest suddenly peaked and became agonizing. The pressure in his chest also grew intense, robbing him of breath. His last dregs of strength deserting him, he stopped and propped himself on his staff to keep from falling. Alfie, Leslie cried an alarm grabbing his arm and supporting him. You look in terribly drachigan Alfie, let's get you over to that big rock so you can sit down. He nodded, unable to speak, and they moved toward a large stone beside the track. He leaned on his staff trying not to rest his weight on his young mate. They were about the same height, five and a half feet, but he was portly with age while the boy was only barely into his teens and youthfully slender. Leslie was also carrying all of their swag in the torrid heat, loaded down with their blanket rolls, water flasks and canvas dilly bags. The few feet to the stone seemed a long distance to him, each step taking an enormous effort. Finally reaching it he eased himself down to it. Leslie dropped their swag on corking a water flask. The boy's hazel eyes peered anxiously from the shadow of his oversized stockman's hat, sweat streaking his smooth well-formed face. The pain was worse than ever, frightening Alfie. He fought the icy fear, for he knew it would swell into panic, making his failing heart plunge into an accelerating frenzy and rip itself apart. The pain began diminishing after a moment, and he reached for the flask. The boy heaved a sigh of relief, helping him lift it. He gulped a mouthful of water then sat back. I'll be right enough directly, mate, he assured the boy. This little ailment of mine took me unawares that time. But we can make a few more miles today, because I'll be on the improve after I've rested a few minutes and... No, you won't. Leslie broke in bluntly, corking the flask. You're too near being stonkered Alfie. He placed the flask among the rest of their swag, then scanned the surrounding terrain. If there's a stockman near about, I'll see if I can borrow a horse for you to ride. No, you mustn't, he protested. You know as well as I do that we swagmen depend on the generosity of stations, and asking for too much might make us come a gutter with nothing at all. In any event, we've already gone back and forth over this business of borrowing a horse. Yes, but we didn't settle it. Leslie countered as he continued peering around. We've been on this track through Tibibora Station for over six days now, and we've yet to see any sign of the home paddock. And you've become much weaker, too eukid to go on like before. The station owners, the Kerrick family, are known far and wide for the kindness. I don't think that they'd take it amiss if we borrowed a horse. It's still imposing, he insisted. Indeed, the Kerricks are known far and wide for their kindness, but there are limits to what. There's a flock of sheep, Leslie interrupted pointing. It's being driven in this direction from the far end of that valley, and the fold and stockman's hut are probably on that hill midway to the valley. Alfie tilted his hat to shade his eyes from the westering sun, looking where the boy indicated. A thin cloud of dust, a sign of sheep being herded, rose from the end of a long valley that stretched far into the distance. He nodded, silently agreeing that a knoll in the center of the valley was a logical place for a fold to contain the sheep at night. Leslie picked up his dilly bag and pulled the strap over his shoulder. I'll go see if the stockman has a spare horse, he said turning away. I'll be back well before sunset. He acknowledged the boy's remarks, offering no further objections. During the time they had been roaming the tracks together, Alfie had learned that once Leslie made up his mind to do something, he proceeded with unswerving, stubborn determination. His tone of voice had been decisive, a warning that any additional debate would be futile. The omnipresent bush flies hovered around Alfie, but after 50 years of roving tracks between stations in the outback, he scarcely no... Sample complete. Ready to continue?