"Hush, me jewel, an' mebbe they'll only cut down the poles an' l'ave us in peace!" pleaded Pat.
"I won't hush!" screeched Maggie, growing angrier each moment. "If ye're skeert, ye c'n crawl under the bed an' hide, ye cowardly cur! I'll go out an' run the last murdherin' wan o' thim away."
"Ye'll git the both of us kilt intoirely if ye don't dhry up wid yer clatter!" entreated Pat.
"I know ivery dhirty mother's son av ye!" screamed Maggie, putting her mouth close to the keyhole of the door, from which Pat had taken the key, and hidden it. "I know ye all, an' I'll have ye in the pinitintiary by termorrer night, ye bloodthirsty divils—ye—"
The rest of the sentence was suddenly muffled, as if Pat's hand had interposed, while a scuffling sound was heard inside the room that suggested he was trying to drag Maggie away from the door. The raiders crowded around the platform of the toll-house, listening in an ecstasy of delight.
Presently a resounding whack was heard, followed by a howl of pain from Pat, whom Maggie had struck, and speedily she was back at the keyhole again.
"Cut down the poles av ye want to, ye night-prowlin' rascals!" she bawled lustily. "I'll have 'em both up ag'in by daylight, an' I'd loike to see any sneakin' dog av ye git by an' not pay toll, ye thavin' robbers!"
"She'll do it, too," muttered Steve, who was standing near the captain. "She'll have bran'-new poles up almost before we can get home."
"The only way to get rid of this gate is to burn it, I think," said the captain, with an oath. "As she wants to come out so much, suppose we give her a chance. Get an armful of straw from the stable an' bring it here! We'll smoke her out."
While Steve hurried off to obey the order, two of the others gathered up some of the dry chips and splinters of wood from the cut poles, and when Steve returned with the straw a fire was kindled on the platform in a sheltered corner, farthest from the door.