"I'm hardly worth the lookin' at. I wouldn't turn my back to ye for a
ransom."

"It's enough that you're here at all."

"Ah, 'voila!' this Irishman!" said Pretty Pierre, as his light fingers
touched Shon's bruised arm gently. This from Pretty Pierre!

There was that in the voice which went to Shon's heart. Who could have
guessed that this outlaw of the North would ever show a sign of sympathy
or friendship for anybody? But it goes to prove that you can never be
exact in your estimate of character. Jo Gordineer only said jestingly:
"Say, now, what are you doing, Shon, bringing us down here, when we might
be well into the Valley by this time?"

"That in your face and the hair aff your head," said Shon; "it's little
you know a tobogan ride when you see one. I'll take my share of the
grog, by the same token."

The Honourable uncorked his flask. Shon threw back his head with a
laugh.

"For it's rest when the gallop is over, me men!
And it's here's to the lads that have ridden their last;
And it's here's--"

But Shon had fainted with the flask in his hand and this snatch of a song
on his lips.

They reached shelter that night. Had it not been for the accident, they