He hesitated and commenced a remark. But Dad was
restless; Paddy Maloney anxious (as regarded himself); besides, the storm
was coming.
Dad said: "Damn it, what are y' 'FRAID o', boy? THAT'll hold--jump on."
Paddy said: "NOW, Dave, while I've 'is 'ead round."
Joe (just arrived with the cattle-pup) chipped in.
He said: "Wot, is he fuf-fuf-fuf-f-rikent of him, Dad?"
Dave heard them. A tear like a hailstone dropped out of his eye.
"It's all damn well t' TALK," he fired off; "come in and RIDE th'----horse
then, if y' s'----GAME!"
A dead silence.
The cattle-pup broke away from Joe and strolled into the yard. It barked
feebly at Callaghan, then proceeded to worry his heels. It seemed to take
Callaghan for a calf. Callaghan kicked it up against the rails. It must
have taken him for a cow then.
Dave's blood was up. He was desperate. He grabbed the reins roughly, put
his foot in the stirrup, gripped the side of the pommel, and was on before
you could say "Woolloongabba."
With equal alacrity, Paddy let the colt's head go and made tracks,
chuckling. The turn things had taken delighted him. Excitement (and
pumpkin) was all that kept Paddy alive.
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