"And the ol' duces (geese) went su-su-su-su."
"Why don't you answer the Father's question?" said the wife. "He wants to know whether you can ride alone."
"And the little duces went cry-cry-cry," said Robin, evidently trying to describe his encounter on the previous day with the flock of geese and goslings, in which encounter the little belligerent was evidently worsted, for one of the oldest warriors in the enemy's camp overthrew him with a single blow of his wing, and would no doubt have inflicted serious wounds had not Bertha come to the rescue.
"And what did Robin say?" asked Bertha.
"He cry, too," came the unwilling answer, whereat all laughed except the little soldier who had been vanquished in so inglorious a battle.
"Where is Owen?" asked Father Byrne, seeing that he had not returned to the dining-room.
"Probably he is not feeling well," said his father. "He and Martin Cooper were hunting wild turkeys all day yesterday. Toward evening Bounce trailed a large deer, bringing it near Rapier's Ford, where the two boys waited until they were overtaken by the night, and forced to sleep in the woods."
"Then I am not surprised that he is unwell," replied the priest. "Perhaps he will not be able to ride around to the different houses and let the people know that I am here."
"Then we'll give the work to Robin," said the farmer, with a laugh.
Robin, however, did not respond to the invitation. He did not seem to know that his name had been mentioned, but sat there in deep thought, planning the second and more successful campaign against the "duces."