of a grey mare! At a word, mind! I'm a reckless sort o' (person)
when I take the notion! but without a word of exaggeration,
I would n't do it on'y for being fixed the way I am. This here mare's got
a fortune in her for a man like you."

"Now howl' yer tongue!" interposed M'Nab, who, with the half-caste--a lithe,
active lad of eighteen--had joined us. "Is it swappin' ye want wi' decent men?
Sure thon poor craytur iv a baste hes n't got the sthrenth fur till kerry
it own hide, let alone a great gommeril on it back. An' thon's furnent ye!
Hello, Tamson! begog A did n't know ye at wanst."

"Good day, Mr. M'Nab. Alterations since I delivered you that wire at Poondoo.
Been in the wars?" For M'Nab was leaning forward and sideways in his saddle,
evidently in pain.

"Yis," replied the contractor frankly. "There was some Irish rascals
at the pub. thonder, where we stapped las' night; an' wan word
brung on another, an' at long an' at last we fell to, so we did;
on' A'm dam but they got the betther o' me, being three agin wan.
A b'lee some o' me ribs is bruk."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Thompson, straining a point for courtesy.

"Are you an Orangeman too, sonny?" I asked the half-caste aside;
for the young fellow had a bunged eye, and a flake of skin off his cheek-bone.

"No, by Cripes!" responded my countryman emphatically. "Not me.
That cove's a (adj.) liar. He don't give a dam, s'posin' a feller's soul
gits bashed out. Best sight I seen for many a day was seein' him
gittin' kicked. If the mean beggar'd on'y square up with me,