“Not me, by the powers!” said Tom.
“Oh, come on, Tom. You'll be all right. Get your men.”
“All right, am I? Be jabbers, I couldn't hit a pin onct in the same place, let alone twice. By me sowl, min, it's a splash of blood an' brains I've jist been lookin' at, an' that's true fer ye. Take Barney there. He's the man, I kin tell ye.”
This suggestion caught the crowd's fancy.
“Barney it is!” “Rory and Barney!” they yelled.
“Me!” cried Barney, seeking to escape through the crowd. “I have never done anything but carry pins and braces at a raising all my life.”
There was a loud laugh of scorn, for no man in all the crowd had Barney's reputation for agility, nerve and quickness.
“Carry pins, is it?” said Tom. “Ye can carry yer head level, me boy. So at it ye go, an' ye'll bate Rory fer me, so ye will.”
“Well then,” cried Barney, “I will, if you give me first choice, and I'll take Tom here.”
“Hooray!” yelled Tom, “I'm wid ye.” So it was agreed, and in a few minutes the sides were chosen, little Ben Fallows falling to Rory as last choice.