day's fishing or the like, but as for giving out a boat to Matty Hynes, and getting her hammered into bits by them playboys beyond in Inishbee, it's what we wouldn't do."
There was a murmur of assent from the other fishermen. Peter Reilly had given expression to their feelings. Mr. Benson left the quay and walked up toward the town. On the way he met Matty Hynes.
"Did you get the boat?" said Matty.
"I did not."
"I was thinking you wouldn't. They're a poor-spirited lot, them fellows that owns the boats."
"I wish you and your rate were at the bottom of the sea together," said Mr. Benson. "What do you want to make all this fuss for over a matter of a couple of pounds?"
"It's yourself that'll have to help me to get it," said Matty, "whether you like it or not."
"I know that," said Mr. Benson.
"Without we was to swim," said Matty, meditatively, "I know of no way we'll get the police and the bailiffs out to Inishbee except the one. We'd be hard set to swim there," he added, "seeing it's a good two miles. And when it came to swimming back with maybe a couple of bullocks along with us"
"Talk sense," said Mr. Benson, "and tell me what you want me to do now."
