"Don't you be too sure of that, Mrs. Boyle," replied Mr. McLeod. "A girl
with an eye and a chin like that may break through any time, and then
woe betide you."

"Then I warn you, don't try the curb on me," said Margaret, springing
lightly over the wheel and turning away with Mrs. Boyle toward the
house, which was humming with that indescribable but altogether
bewitching medley of sounds that only a score or two of girls
overflowing with life can produce.

"Come along, Charley," roared Magee. "We're waitin' to make ye the
boss."

"All right, Tom," replied the little man, with a quiet chuckle. "If you
make me the boss, here's my orders, Up you get yourself and take hold of
the gang. What do you say, men?"

"Ay, that's it." "Tom it is." "Jump in, Tom," were the answering shouts.

"Aw now," said Tom, "there's better than me here. Take Big Angus there.
He's the man fer ye! Or what's the matter wid me frind, Rory Ross? It's
the foine boss he'd make fer yez! Sure, he'll put the fire intil ye!"

There was a general laugh at this reference to the brilliant colour of
Rory's hair and face.

"Never you mind Rory Ross, Tom Magee," said the fiery-headed,
fiery-hearted little Highlander. "When he's wanted, ye'll not find him
far away, I'se warrant ye."