s, suns, an' shootin' stars an' blazin comets . . . "

Day Daughtry left his flight as beyond his own grasp of speech, and
concluded, his half embarrassment masked by braggadocio over Michael:

"Oh, believe me, they don't make dogs like him every day in the week.
Sure, I stole 'm. He looked good to me. An' if I had it over, knowin'
as I do known 'm now, I'd steal 'm again if I lost a leg doin' it. That's
the kind of a dog _he_ is."

CHAPTER IX

The morning the _Makambo_ entered Sydney harbour, Captain Duncan had
another try for Michael. The port doctor's launch was coming alongside,
when he nodded up to Daughtry, who was passing along the deck:

"Steward, I'll give you twenty pounds."

"No, sir, thank you, sir," was Dag Daughtry's answer. "I couldn't bear
to part with him."

"Twenty-five pounds, then. I can't go beyond that. Besides, there are
plenty more Irish terriers in the world."

"That's what I'm thinkin', sir. An' I'll get one for you. Right here in
Sydney. An' it won't cost you a penny, sir."

"But I want Killeny Boy," the captain persisted.

"An' so do I, which is the worst of it, sir. Besides, I got him first."

"Twenty-five sovereigns is a lot of money . . . for a dog," Captain
Duncan said.

"An' Killeny Boy's a lot of dog . . . for the money," the steward
retorted. "Why, sir, cuttin' out all sentiment, his tricks is worth more
'n that. Him not recognizing me when I don't want 'm to is worth fifty
pounds of itself. An' there's his countin' an' his singin', an' all the
rest of his tricks. Now, no matter how I got him, he didn't have them
tricks. Them tricks are mine. I taught him them. He ain't the dog he
was when he come on board. He's a whole lot of me now, an' sellin' him
would be like sellin' a piece of myself."

"Thirty pounds," said the captain with finality.

"No, sir, thankin' you just the same, sir," was Daughtry's refusal.

And Captain Duncan was forced to turn away in order to greet the port
doctor coming over the side.

Scarcely had the _Makambo_ passed quarantine, and while on her way up
harbour to dock, when a trim man-of-war launch darted in to her side and
a trim lieutenant mounted the _Makambo's_ boarding-ladder. His mission
was quickly explained. The _Albatross_, British cruiser of the second
class, of which he was fourth lieutenant, had called in at Tulagi with
dispatches from the High Commissioner of the English South Seas. A scant
twelve hou