Pat Ritter. Books

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'The Proposition' - Page 158:

Immediately he understood why Ralph had asked to wait until the finish of the race before telling him about the DNA test result.
Bundy swung the binoculars to the front of the grandstand where the trainers and owners took their position. He focused on Ralph and noticed he appeared nervous. A tall blonde girl stood beside him. Bundy wondered if she was Peter’s girlfriend.
Suddenly the announcer raised the alarm the race was about to begin. A trumpet blasted across the airways signalling the start of the race. The horses were to race a distance of 2600 metres. They lined up behind the mobile barrier.
Bundy kept his binoculars focused on number two horse as the mobile sped away from the horses. Number one horse took a position in front – that’s it Peter get in behind number one and stay there, Bundy said to himself. First quarter thirty-one three, the announcer’s voice echoed. Pace is good – stay there Peter, be patient. This was a major race and tactics were upper most in each driver’s mind.
Around the final bend and heading for home. Bundy saw Peter swing his horse into the passing lane at the top of the straight toward the winning post. Number one horse moved out under pressure and number two horse ‘High Class Investigator’ slipped through on the rails to win by two metres. He won!
The crowd cheered especially Mary and her mother; tears fell from Mary eyes, and hugged her mother and continued to hug everyone around the table. Bundy looked at Kate and smiled. It was a fine ending to a tough investigation.
‘Okay let’s go to the birdcage and wait until after the presentation to see Peter and Ralph.’ Bundy told his friends.
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'The Proposition' - Page 159:

After paying for their meals they left the restaurant and walked to the birdcage. This is an area where horses, trainers and owners place their horses in a stall to prepare for their race. It is a huge building covered by a roof and stalls in the centre and around the side accommodating stalls for each entrant.
All clear sounded by the announcer. Presentation of a trophy and speeches by dignitaries took place in the enclosure on the parade ring. Ralph accepted the winner’s trophy and in his speech acknowledged the drive by Peter.
After the presentation completed, Ralph led ‘High Class Investigator’ to his stall with a maroon coloured blanket highlighted with the words QUEENSLAND CHAMPION 2012 embroidery in yellow lettering.
Ralph was the first to see Kate and Bundy standing near the entrance to the stall. He instantly recognized Mary but didn’t know the others, ‘we won!’ He smiled. Following him close behind was Peter with the blonde female who Bundy seen previously with Ralph. They were holding hands.
Peter sighted his mother who ran toward her son, Peter let go of his girlfriend’s hand, swung his arms and wrapped them around his mother, ‘Mother’ was all he muttered. His eyes full with tears. They hugged each other until pulling apart said to his mother, ‘mother, this is Carol, my girlfriend.’ Mary threw her arms around Carol’s neck.
Bundy spoke to Ralph and told him the DNA test was positive and he was Peter’s biological father. After the celebration of renewed friendships, and the return of her son, Mary thanked Kate and Bundy for returning her son to her, safe and well. They said their farewells to all and left Mary and her mother with Ralph, Peter and Carol.
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'The Proposition' - Page 160:

At precisely eight-thirty Monday morning Kate and Bundy stood in front of the Commissioner in his office.
‘Bundy and Kate –I congratulate each of you on behalf of the department for finding Peter Clayton – or Peacock as he now wants to be known.’ He shook their hands. Both accepted.
‘Bundy – what are we going to do with you?’ The Commissioner asked.
‘I need a rest – if you don’t mind.’ Bundy replied.
‘And you Kate – can you work without Bundy?’ He asked.
‘I don’t know. This was a great investigation and he is a ‘High Class Investigator’.

IMPORTANT NOTICE: THIS IS THE FINAL PAGE OF 'THE PROPOSITION'. HOPE YOU HAVE ENJOYED READING MY DAILY POST. NEW BOOK TOMORROW.

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Thank you everyone for your continued support with my books. Much appreciated.

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New book today: 'The Drover' - Page 1:

Chapter 1

Claire woke in the night startled by the storm and lightning strike. She sprung from her swag, dressed and threw a saddle on her horse, fastened the surcingle all in one movement.
Her instincts took over to saddle her horse and help ring the cattle before they stampeded. Excitement of the chase exploded inside her mind and body, not giving time to think what a nine year old child was about to do.
Rain soaked her clothes through to her skin. Her hat stuck to her head fastened only by a thin rawhide strap across her forehead to stop it from blowing off.
Swinging into the saddle she rode like demons possessed her small body, to help her father. The thrill of the chase ran through her veins, each muscle in her nine year old arms and legs strained to their limits, the mental toughness to help her father not being able to sight him caused her to wonder where he was. She needed to find him. Riding her horse at full gallop; lightning striking around them, cattle running in all directions out of control.
Through the faint vision of rain and wind, she saw a silhouette of a horse and rider, riding like the wind to get in front of the leading bunch of cattle to ring them round so they slowed and stopped. The moment she saw the horse and rider she knew it was her father. She felt a deep love. She would do anything to make him proud of her.
With lightning flashing above her head and near to trees, thunder exploded, wind and rain lashed her face, her hair streamed from beneath her hat; she rode on urging her horse into the chase. Without fear she jumped her horse across a log in the pathway and stretched her small body along its neck. She urged him forward to the front of the herd and came abreast with her father, his right arm out-stretched; she heard the familiar sound of a whip crack.
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'The Drover' - Page 2:

There was calm, the cattle stopped. With the final sound of a whip crack competing against the lightning and thunder, she rode up beside him. Claire thought her father was God, better than God; he could do anything just like God. She held him on top of a pedestal which reached for the sky and loved everything there was to love and would do anything to please him to earn his love and respect.

Harry took a moment and thought about the time his daughter Claire helped him stop the cattle from stampeding. She was brave, very brave; and at such a tender age. He felt so lucky to have a family he loved and cherished.

Harold Clarence Williams was born in the country town of Dirranbandi in 1930; his dream began when he was 10 years old after hearing the poem Ballad of a Drover recited around the camp fire. At an early age his father nicknamed him ‘Harry’ for short; he was known by that name for the remainder of his life.

‘Ballad of the Drover’
By
Henry Lawson

Across the stony ridges, across the rolling plain,
Young Harry Dale, the drover, comes riding home again.
And well his stock-horse bears him, and light of heart is he,
And stoutly his old packhorse is trotting by his knee.
Up Queensland way with cattle he’s travelled regions vast,
And many months have vanished since home-folks saw him last.
He hums a song of someone he hopes to marry soon,
And hobble-chains and camp-ware keep jingling to the tune.
Beyond the hazy dado against the lower skies
And yon blue line of ranges the station homestead lies.
And thitherward the drover jogs through the lazy noon,
While hobble-chains and camp-ware are jingling to a tune.
An hour has filled the heavens with storm-clouds inky black;
At times the lightning trickles around the drover’s track;
But Harry pushes onward, his horses’ strength he tries,
In hope to reach the river before the flood shall rise.
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'The Drover' - Page 3:

Was he Harry Dale from the poem? They had the same nickname. At the moment he heard the poem, he saw in his mind’s eye, his life, to learn the craft of droving.
Harry was born the 5th child of 11 children; 3 boys and 8 girls. His family were drovers from the top of their broad brim hats down to their R M William boots and loved what they did.
Harry’s father worked as a drover in the Dirranbandi, St George and Bollon areas in southwest Queensland where he lived a simple life.
As soon as Harry discovered what he wanted to do, his world changed in one day.
It happened when the Principal at Dirranbandi State School, which Harry attended, contacted Harry’s father to speak with him about Harry.
At their meeting in his office, the Principal said to Harry’s father, ‘Mr Williams, Harry isn’t doing well at school and I think for the boy’s future he should go with you.’ His father agreed.
Harry hated school and couldn’t see the sense in going each day when he could be out working with his horses and dogs. His father survived through life without an education and he would do the same. I’ll learn by listening to older men who’d been there and done it, it’ll be better than going to school, he always joked.
It was difficult at times when he needed to read, because he didn’t learn how to read or write only to sign his name in a scribble fashion he could only understand. Apart from having little or no education he possessed an immeasurable sixth sense to understand what he needed to do and to do the task to the best of his ability. He prided himself for being as honest as the day is long and abided to this honesty for the remainder of his life.

Mervyn Barrington, his uncle, cleared bore drains for a living, using draft horses to tow a delver. A delver is steel constructed ‘A’ frame appliance with wooden wings on either side. Up to 14 draft horses towed the delver through the bore drains to clear silt or rubbish and allow the water to flow from the bore head along miles of drain to water stock.
From an early age Harry possessed an ‘eye’ for a horse. Shape, conformation, colour, head shape, distance between the eyes, sensibility and most important the horse’s personality.
There were rogues and also well behaved horses, much like humans. He reckoned when he harnessed his uncle’s draft horses and hitched them behind the delver he spoke in their language; he knew each by name and had them eat from the palm of his hand to do what he wanted them to do.
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'The Drover' - Page 4:

His hands guided the draft horses through miles of bore drain, clearing roly-poly bur which blocked the water flow. If the roly-poly was not cleared from the bore drain, the drain became blocked and water overflowed from the drain out across the land, thereby stopping the water flow to the end of the bore drain.
He learned young in life, hard work never killed anyone.
In between working for his uncle, he helped his father in droving cattle or sheep, mainly as the horse tailer. His job as a horse tailer, to ensure all of the horses were shod regularly; feed and watered and to load and unload the pack saddles from the packhorses. Pack saddles were used to carry most of their equipment and food. Another chore he did was feed and take care of the dogs; at times he attended to ten dogs.
His father taught him how to work from dawn until dusk without complaint and to do the job right in the first place so that way there were no mistakes and the job need not be done again.
After Harry worked for his father and uncle for a couple of years he was earnest to go out on his own as a drover to prove he could do it. By this time he’d acquired three horses, one to ride and two to carry gear in the pack saddles. With his three dogs and horses; he had his first droving plant.
His first droving contract actually came by accident or opportunity.
One day while he was helping his father move one thousand sheep from a property west of St George to Dirranbandi, a truck overturned on the side of the roadway not far from where they were droving. The cattle crate on the overturned truck held six bulls that escaped from the crate. Instinctively, Harry whistled his dogs and in no time stopped the bulls from escape.
‘Who are you?’ The truck driver called to Harry.
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