Barney then looked at him with a rather awestruck expression, and then clambered up beside Frank.
“Frank, dear?”
“Yes, Barney.”
“It’s a bad lot he is, so he is, and he’ll make them rue the day, so he will.”
“Shouldn’t wonder,” said Frank.
“I’d not like to mate him alone on a dark night, so I wouldn’t, if I knew that the man had a grudge agin me.”
“He is a tough customer,” said Frank, “and I’ll back him to avenge his wife and little ones if he gets a square show.”
The Steam Horse was now running, or rather trotting away at the rate of about fifteen miles an hour, for Frank knew that he was off his course, and therefore there was no use hurrying.
For some time he trotted along in a leisurely manner, but no signs could he see of either Pomp, his pursuers, or Charley Gorse and the man.
Barney Shea turned to him with a most comical expression.