own to Wiley's," said Pierre; "there's better company there than
here."

Pierre had arranged many things, and had secured partners in his little
scheme for humbling the braggart. He so worked on the other's good
nature that by the time they reached the settler's place, Macavoy was
stretching himself with a big pride. Seated at Wiley's table, with
Hatchett and others near, and drink going about, someone drew the giant
on to talk, and so deftly and with such apparent innocence did Pierre,
by a word here and a nod there, encourage him, that presently he roared
at Wiley and Hatchett:

"Ye shameless buccaneers that push your way into the tracks of honest
men, where the Company's been three hundred years by the will o' God--if
it wasn't for me, ye Jack Sheppards--"

Wiley and Hatchett both got to their feet with pretended rage, saying
he'd insulted them both, that he was all froth and brawn, and giving him
the lie.

Utterly taken aback, Macavoy could only stare, puffing in his beard, and
drawing in his legs, which had been spread out at angles. He looked from
Wiley to the impassive Pierre. "Buccaneers, you callus," Wiley went
on; "well, we'll have no more of that, or there'll be trouble at Fort
O'Angel."

"Ah, sure y'are only jokin'," said Macavoy, "for I love ye, ye
scoundrels. It's only me fun."

"For fun like that you'll pay, ruffian!" said Hatchett, bringing down
his fist on the table with a bang.

Macavoy stood up. He looked confounded, but there was nothing of the
coward in his face. "Oh, well," said he, "I'll be goin', for ye've got
y'r teeth all raspin'."

As he went the two men laughed after him mockingly. "Wind like a bag,"
said Hatchett. "Bone like a marrow-fat pea," added Wiley.

Macavoy was at the door, but at that he turned. "If ye care to sail
agin' that wind, an' gnaw on that bone, I'd not be sayin' you no."

"Will to-night do--at sunset?" said Wiley.

"Bedad, then, me b'ys, sunset'll do--an' not more than two at a time,"
he added softly, all the roar gone from his throat. Then he went out,
followed by Pierre.

Hatchett and Wiley looked at each other and laughed a little confusedly.
"What's that he said?" muttered Wiley. "Not more than two at a time, was
it?"

"That was it. I don't know that it's what we bargained for, after all."
He looked round on the other settlers present, who had been awed by the
childlike, earnest note in Macavoy's last words. They shook their heads
now a little sagely;