The door opened and closed as the cook entered. "Have ye a pipeful? Mine's all gone."
"Help yourself," answered Doane, tossing the sack. "There it is, by yore County Cork feet."
"I have ut," grunted Murphy. "An' who was th' lad ye was talkin' to from th' windy just now?"
"Nelson. He's goin' ridin' in th' moonlight. Must aim to go far, for he's got three horses."
"Has he, now?" Murphy puffed in quiet satisfaction for a moment. "He's a good la-ad, Ed. Goin' ridin', is he? Well, ridin' is fine for them as likes it. But I'm wonderin' what he's doin' with th' kerosene I gave him?"
"Kerosene? When?"
"Whin he come in with his friend Cassidy—an' a fine bye that man is, too. Shure: a hull canteen av it. Two gallons. He says for me to kape it quiet: as if I'd be tellin'! Quayle would have me scalp if he knowed it—givin' away his ile like that. Now where ye goin' so fast?"
"For a walk, under th' moonlight!" answered Doane. "Yo're goin', too an' we're goin' with our mouths shut. Not a word about th' hosses or th' kerosene. You remember what Cassidy said about goin' agin' Kane's northeast corner? Come on—an' see th' bonfire!"
"Shure, an' who's fool enough to have anny bonfires now?"