O’Neill laughed. “Is it me now, to be giving you a good time?” he said. “I thought ’twas the other way round it was. You have helped me through a stiff day, and I’m very grateful.” He shook hands warmly, and the motor whirred away. [Illustration: He fell close to a man sitting on a fragment of rock and leaning back against the bank.”] _Jim and Wally_] [_Page 132_ CHAPTER IX PINS AND PORK “Sure, this is blessed Erin, an’ this the same glen; The gold is on the whin-bush, the wather sings again: The Fairy Thorn’s in flower—an’ what ails my heart then?” MOIRA O’NEIL. ‟WELL—of all the deserters!” “Is it me?” asked Wally, modestly. He made an enormous stride from a half-submerged stone into the boat, and nearly lost his balance, collapsing in the stern. “You!” said Jim, steadying the boat, which endeavoured, under the assault, to bury her nose in a muddy bank of rushes. “You, that was going to catch several hundred trout, and instead cleared out——” “In a plutocratic motor,” said Norah. “With a bloated aristocrat,” added Jim. “And never said good-bye!” finished Mr. Linton, with an artistic catch in his voice. “I did,” said Wally: “I did it all. And I didn’t want to.” Sounds of disbelief rose from his hearers. “You needn’t snort,” said the victim, inelegantly. “I don’t think it betters your case to describe our just indignation as snorting,” said Mr. Linton. “If you were to grovel it would become you better,” said Norah. “Not in this boat,” hastily remarked her father. “It isn’t planned for gymnastics.” “He’s too well-fed to grovel, anyhow,” said Jim brutally. “What did you have in the ducal castle, Wal? ortolans and plovers’ eggs, and things?” “Chops,” said Wally. “Shades of Australia!” ejaculated Mr. Linton. “Is that what one eats in company with dukes?” “I don’t know,” Wally answered, patiently. “He isn’t a duke, anyhow. Where did you people get your soaring ideas?” “From a lame chauffeur who seemed to think you were getting a great deal more than you deserved——” Jim began. “That’s what I’m getting now!” said Wally. “Well, he said you had gone off in the mothor to the big house. We inferred from his tone that it was not merely big, but enormous. The master had tuk you, he said; we further gathered that you might come back when the master had finished with you. It sounded rather like Jack and the Giant, and if we had known who had kidnapped you we might have organized a search party. As we didn’t, we caught trout—lots of ’em.” “Did you, indeed?” said Wally, with open envy. “Lucky beggars—I wish I had!” “And you rioting in baronial halls!” said Norah. “Some people don’t know when they are well off.” “If we let Wally have a word in edgeways for a few minutes we might find out a little more about the baronial halls,” said Mr. Linton. “Tell us what happened to you, Wally. Was it a duke?”