"I'm here," said Lieutenant Eckersley, "to bring you and your bailiffs to this island, and then fetch you home again. There isn't a word in my orders about carrying pigs. It's against all the regulations, and I won't do it."
"He has you there, Matty," said Mr. Benson. "You may just as well drop that pig."
On the way home Lieutenant Eckersley, having changed his uniform and regained his self-respect, asked a question of Mr. Benson.
"Would you mind telling me," he said, "how much money the people of that island actually owe? It can't be much, to judge by the look of the place."
"Two pounds, seven shillings and fourpence," said Mr. Benson.
"What?"
"Two pounds, seven shillings and fourpence," said Mr. Benson, slowly and distinctly.
"Well, I'm hanged! Do you mean to tell me? I've steamed all the way from Queenstown—the coal alone—your five men—you—me—one of his Majesty's ships—and"
"And the price of a new uniform for you," said Mr. Benson.
"All for the sake of two pounds, seven shillings and fourpence."
"And in the end we didn't get it," said Mr. Benson, "though we'd have cleared half the money, anyhow, if you would have let Matty Hynes bring the pig he caught. It wouldn't have done you any arm.
