"Hold 'em fast; hold 'em fast!" bawled the innkeeper, who was the
last to come up, he was so fat. "I'll wager it's one of the rogues
who tricked me out of thirty gold pieces yesterday for a wretched
hide."

It was more kicks than halfpence that Hudden and Dudden got before
they were well on their way home again, and they didn't run the
slower because all the dogs of the town were at their heels.

Well, as you may fancy, if they loved Donald little before, they
loved him less now.

"What's the matter, friends?" said he, as he saw them tearing along,
their hats knocked in, and their coats torn off, and their faces
black and blue. "Is it fighting you've been? or mayhap you met the
police, ill luck to them?"

"We'll police you, you vagabond. It's mighty smart you thought
yourself, deluding us with your lying tales."

"Who deluded you? Didn't you see the gold with your own two eyes?"

But it was no use talking. Pay for it he must, and should. There was
a meal-sack handy, and into it Hudden and Dudden popped Donald
O'Neary, tied him up tight, ran a pole through the knot, and off
they started for the Brown Lake of the Bog, each with a pole-end on
his shoulder, and Donald O'Neary between.

But the Brown Lake was far, the road was dusty, Hudden and Dudden
were sore and weary, and parched with thirst. There was an inn by