“Are ye maning County Antrim, Misther Burroughs?”
“Sure, Dennis.”
“Thin I’m yer boy, and will go with ye.”
Jack was rather startled, but on second thought he decided to take the risk.
“Dennis, will you sign the pledge if I take you?”
Dennis’ blue eyes twinkled, and with a comical smile he lifted his cap from his fiery head and said, “Shure, yer honour.”
Both gardens bloomed gayly in the June sunshine; both men talked and worked and planned in secret for their swift going. At last the letter came.
Jack, as gay as a boy, went first to Dennis. “Come out to the house to-night, Dennis, and we will make our final arrangements.”
“Ye can count on me, and I will be that grateful to ye for the whole o’ me life.”
With this letter held high, Jack, with “Jim” at his heels, gayly waved it to a sweet girl that he caught a glimpse of on a neighbouring porch.