“No, no, no! Three cheers for the ‘boss’!”
Given with a will; and by the time the noise had subsided, Steenie’s smile had become as bright as ever, and that without any effort of her will.
“Good enough! Thank you, dears! And now we’ll have an extra circus, won’t we? I’d like to ’blige Mr. Plunkett; and besides, you know, I—I sha’n’t have you, nor the horses, nor any more fun—in that old New York!”
“Hold on, Little Un! Where’s your grit?” asked Kentucky Bob, passing Steenie from his shoulder to a convenient wagon-box.
His sudden change of tone astonished her.
“Hain’t I allays fetched ye up to do the square thing? If your dooty calls you to N’ York,—to N’ York you’ll have to go; but, fer the honor o’ San’ Felis’, an’ the credit o’ your boys, do it colors flyin’—head up—shoulders back—right face—march!”
“I will, Bob! I will! I will!” cried Steenie, impulsively. “You sha’n’t ever have to be ashamed of your Little Un, and so I tell you!”
In the midst of the rousing cheers which followed, Lord Plunkett appeared. He could restrain his curiosity no longer.
CHAPTER III.
