It was in the dark December
Upon the Baltic coast——”
Here the singer’s horse stumbled, and the song came to an abrupt termination. Then a voice was lifted in protest.
“Arrah, what kind of a beast are you, at all, at all! Faith, you go stumbling along like a porpoise in wooden shoes. Lift up your feet, you good-for-nothing villain, or it’s the whip I’ll be taking to you, though I’ve never done it before.”
Amazed, Ben called out:
“What, Paddy Burk!”
The horse and rider came to an abrupt stand.
“Who is that taking me name into his mouth?” demanded the rider, his hand upon his pistol. “I see you there, but I can’t make you out.”
“It’s Ben Cooper,” answered the lad.
Instantly the other touched his mount, and it trotted forward.