At last Jack came up to Paddy with an inquiring air. “What in the world are you going to do with fifteen pigs, Paddy?” he asked. “I shouldn’t buy any more if I were you.” “I—buy—fifteen—pigs!” she exclaimed. “What in the world—” “Well, of course, you have,” he urged. “They’re all in the wagon waiting for you. Patrick just asked me if you were going to drive them home yourself,” omitting, however, to mention that he had previously impressed upon the doubtful Patrick that the pigs belonged to the fair buyer. “After robbing him of purchasers, you can’t very well leave them on his hands. I don’t suppose he’ll want you to pay in a hurry, but you must take charge of them.” Paddy regarded him with a haughty stare, and then turned to encounter the visibly perturbed Patrick. “They fifteen pigs, miss,” he began hesitatingly. “Are they to go to The Ghan House?” “They’re not mine,” she declared stoutly. “I bought them for you.” “Very good of you, miss; but what would I be wanting with ’em, when I be selling ’em?” Paddy looked perplexed. “Whose in the world are they?” she asked doubtfully. “They’re not mine—and they’re not yours—I give it up.” “Begorra! I’m shure I dunno, miss,” and Patrick fell to scratching his head in great perplexity; “but it seems as if, seeing I sold ’em and you bought ’em—” “But I bought them for you.” “But if I was selling ’em, how could I want for to buy ’em?” “If Patrick doesn’t want them,” put in Jack, “of course you must take them home, Paddy. I’ll help you drive them.” “Oh! don’t be an idiot!” stamping her foot. “They don’t belong to me.” “But you’ve just said you bought them.” “I didn’t.” “You did; you said you had bought them for Patrick.” Paddy stamped her foot more impatiently still and grew more perplexed. “Share, and it’s beyond me,” and Patrick fell again to his head-scratching. “If you bought ’em it seems as if they ought to be yours, don’t it?” Paddy looked round with a worried air, and at that dreadful moment descried Lawrence, in the very act of dodging two small pigs that had escaped their owner and were making tracks back to the wagon as fast as they could go. She signalled to him, and he came up at once. “I don’t know what’s happened to Newry,” he said, “but every third person seems to have acquired a small pig. I’ve been dodging them for the last half-hour. They’re all over everywhere.” Jack began to chuckle in a most annoying manner. “Paddy’s bought fifteen,” he said. “I haven’t. Be quiet, you—you—great, silly clown.” “Now, don’t get cross, Paddy,” soothingly; “and you’ve said so many times that you did buy them that it sounds dreadfully like a fib.” Paddy looked as if she were not quite sure whether to laugh or cry, and Lawrence asked: “What’s the matter, Paddy? Why does he say you’ve bought fifteen pigs?” “It’s just this way—” began poor Paddy.