It was worse that Heffernan was growing over this matter as time went on, instead of beginning to forget it. In fact, it wasn’t Mickey alone, or even those only that had lost a beast themselves that were uneasy, but all Ardenoo could do nothing but talk about the cattle being stolen, and wonder whose turn would come next.
Now this thing is so simple that it’s curious more don’t turn their hands to it. Horn brand or hide brand, they’re easily got rid of, with the help of a file and a pair of scissors. And if you start early in the night, you can travel a long way with whatever you may have to drive, before the weight of the people will be out of their beds. And if there chances to be a lonely spot like the Fairy Cleft anyway convenient, that crowns you for the job. The beasts could be taken there and along the disused boreen as handy as you like. Ratigan had it all as fit for his requirements as if he had made it himself.
At last Heffernan made up his mind that he’d run no more risks about having his cattle stolen. So he said to Marg, “The fair in Clough-na-Rinka is coming on, and it would be as good for us to sell that half-score of store cattle there as to leave them to be stolen, like their comrade. They’ll sell at a loss,” he went on, with a sigh, “but sure, little fish is sweet! and the rent has to be made up. And it will only be worse to be keeping them back and having to fodder them in the winter, and the hay none too plenty ... sure, they’d have themselves ett against next May!”
“Whatever you say yourself,” said Marg, only too glad of the chance of getting rid of the bullocks, and thinking that then maybe Mickey would cease to be fretting and annoying himself over the one that was stolen; “but how will you manage to get to the fair?”
“I know well that I’d have no right to go, and the leg the way it is with me,” said Mickey, “but I think you’d do, if you were instructed.”
“I’ll go, if you say the word,” said Marg.
She felt glad of the chance. She would hardly say it, even to herself, but she would like to get away for even that one day from poor Mickey. Not that she’d let any one say a word against him, but she was worn out of all comfort by his growling and complaining. Of course it was the bad leg that helped to make him so contrary; and Marg never forgot that, and would never make him an answer, no matter what he’d say.
“I can go away easy enough with the mare and side-car ...” for that is how Mickey himself always went to fairs.
“Ora, what side-car do you want?” said Mickey a bit short; for now along with all else, the poor old man was fretting because he could not go to do the business himself, being sure, like every one, that he could do it better than any one else; “what side-car do you mean? Can’t ye take the little ass?”
“She’s very slow now,” said Marg, “and it will leave me that I’ll have to be a long time away from you.”