Stingaree
"One day last winter when I was out looking for some horses."
"And you kept it to yourself!"
The trooper hung his head. "I knew we should have him across the river again," he said. "It was only a question of time; and—well, sir, you can understand!"
"You were keen on taking him yourself, were you?"
"As keen as you are, Mr. Kilbride!" owned the younger man, raising bold eyes, and looking his superior fairly and squarely in the face.
Kilbride returned the stare, and what he saw unsettled him. The other was wiry, trim, eminently alert; he had the masterful mouth and the dare-devil eye, and his horse seemed a part of himself. A more promising comrade at hot work was not to be desired: and the work would be hot if Stingaree had half a chance. After all, it was better for two to succeed than for one to fail. "Half the money and a whole skin!" said Kilbride to himself, and rapped out his decision with an oath.
The trooper's eyes lit with reckless mirth, and a soft cheer came from under his breath.
"By the bye, what's your name," said Kilbride, "before we start?"
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