'Arrah, be easy now, Paddy M'Dermid,' said the greyhound; 'don't I know very well what you are looking for?'
'Why then in truth, if you do, I may as well tell you at wonst, particularly as you seem a civil-looking gentleman, that's not above speaking to a poor gossoon like myself.' (Paddy wanted to butter him up a bit.)
'Well then,' said the greyhound, 'come out here and sit down on this bank,' and Paddy, like a gomulagh (fool), did as he was desired, but had hardly put his brogue outside of the circle made by the holy water, when the beast of a hound set upon him, and drove him out of the Rath; for Paddy was frightened, as well he might, at the fire that flamed from his mouth. But next night he returned, full sure the money was there. As before, he made a circle, and touched the flag, when my gentleman, the greyhound, appeared in the ould place.
'Oh ho,' said Paddy, 'you are there, are you? but it will be a long day, I promise you, before you trick me again'; and he made another stroke at the flag.
'Well, Paddy M'Dermid,' said the hound, 'since you will have money, you must; but say, how much will satisfy you?'
Paddy scratched his conlaan, and after a while said—
'How much will your honour give me?' for he thought it better to be civil.
'Just as much as you consider reasonable, Paddy M'Dermid.'
'Egad,' says Paddy to himself, 'there's nothing like axin' enough.'
'Say fifty thousand pounds,' said he. (He might as well have said a hundred thousand, for I'll be bail the beast had money gulloure.)