“Very well, Pat. You go forward and you and Shannon see if you can do anything for Floyd. Don’t let him move much. He’s liable to be restless.”
“Yes, sorr.” Patrick Gass saluted but lingered a moment. “If I might be so bold, sorr——”
“What is it?”
“Seein’ as how the boy’s Irish——”
“Irish! He’s as black as an Indian!”
“Yes, sorr. But the eyes an’ hair of him, sorr. An’ sure he has an Irish name. An’ I was thinkin’, beggin’ your pardon, sorr, if you decided to kape him a spell, Shannon an’ me’d look after him for ye, sorr. We Irish are all cousins, ye know, sorr.”
Young Captain Lewis’s mouth twitched; he shot a glance at Captain Clark, who smiled back.
“Does that sound to you like an Irish name, Captain? More like good old English, to me!”
“I was thinkin’ again, sorr,” pursued Pat, “that more like it’s O’Kerr.”