"What, Keogh's black boy! Well, I don't know as Pike'll stand old
Paddy Keogh any longer. Paddy's 'ad a dorg tied hup 'ere" (i.e.,
an account outstanding) "this two years, and last time Pike was
'ome 'e was reck'nin' it was about hup to Keogh to pay something."
"They're not for Keogh," said Charlie. "They're for me. I've taken
Keogh's block over."
The old man looked at him dubiously.
"Well, but y'aint goin' to tie hup no dorg on us for 'em, are yer?
I s'pose it's all right, though?"
"Right, yes," said Gordon. "It's for Mr. Grant, Old Man Grant,--you've
heard of Grant of Kuryong?"
"Never 'eard of him," said the aged man, "but it makes no hodds.
Pay when yer like. Yer'd better git on the coach, for I see the
Hopal Queen's ready for a start. Yer'll know her all right before
long, I bet. Some of the fellers from round about 'as come in to
give her a send-off like. There's the coach ready; yer'd better
git aboard, and yer'll hear the-the send-off like. Young Stacy out
there reckons 'e's going to make a speech."
Charlie and Carew climbed upon the coach. The fat lady kissed
Pike's wife and children with great solemnity. "Good-bye, Alice!
Good-bye, Nora darlin'," she said. Then she marched in a stately
way towards the vehicle, with the children forming a bodyguard
round her. A group of men hung about uneasily, looked sheepish, and
waved large, helpless red hands, till a young fellow about seven
feet high--who looked more uneasy and had even larger hands than
the rest--was hustled forward, and began to mutter something that
nobody could hear.
"Speak up, George," said a friend. The young man raised his voice
to a shout, and said-"And so I propose three cheers and long life to the Hopal Queen!"
As he spoke he ran two or three paces forward towards a stump,
meaning, no doubt, to get on it and lead the cheering; but, just
as he was going to jump, a wretched little mongrel that had been in
and out among the people's feet made a dash at him, fixed its teeth
in the calf of his leg, and ran away howling at its own temerity.
The young giant rushed after it, but the Opal Queen interposed.
"George," she said, "don't ye dare go for to kick my dog!"
"Well, what did he bite me for, then?" said the giant, speaking
out now in a voice that could be heard half a mile off. "What did
he bite me for?"
"Never mind, George! Don't ye go for to kick him, that's all."
The Opal Queen, snorting like a grampus, climbed into the coach;
the driver cracked his whip, and off they went, leaving the audience
spellbound, and the gigantic young man rubbing his leg. Soon Pike's
faded away in the distance. As the coach jolted along, Carew and
Charlie on the box seat occasionally peered in at the large swaying
figure, half-hidden in the dust.