I'll bet 'twas them
done it. Or, perhaps," he added, with an evident desire to assist
in solving the difficulty, "perhaps the wind blew it down."
"What!" said Hugh scornfully. "Wind blow down a fence! What next!"
"Well it does blow terrible hard sometimes in these parts," said
Red Mick, shaking his head dolefully; "look at me crop of onions I
planted--the wind blew 'em out of the ground, and hung 'em on the
fence. But wait now, till we have a look at these sheep."
"No, we won't wait," said Hugh angrily. "We will be off home now,
and send a man for them. And I advise you to be very careful, Mick
Donohoe, for I have my own idea who dug up that fence."
"Well, you don't suppose that I done it, do you?" said Red Mick.
"I've been in the house this three days. Besides, I wouldn't steal
my brother-in-law's sheep, anyhow. Won't ye come up, and have a
dhrink of tea now, you and the lady? It's terrible hot."
"No, thank you," said Hugh stiffly. "Come along, Miss Grant." And
they marched off towards the horses.
"It beats all who could have took them posts down, doesn't it?"
said Mick. "I'd offer a reward, if I was you. Them fellows about
here would steal the eyes out of your head. Good day to ye, Mr.
Hugh."
And the cockatoo added, "Good-bye, Cockie," in a sepulchral voice,
as they trudged off, smitten hip and thigh.
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