CHAPTER IX
The morning the Makambo entered Sydney harbour, Captain Duncan had another try for Michael. The port doctor’s launch was coming alongside, when he nodded up to Daughtry, who was passing along the deck:
“ Steward, I’ll give you twenty pounds.”
“ No, sir, thank you, sir,” was Dag Daughtry’s answer. “I couldn’t bear to part with him.”
“ Twenty-five pounds, then. I can’t go beyond that. Besides, there are plenty more Irish terriers in the world.”
“ That’s what I’m thinkin’, sir. An’ I’ll get one for you. Right here in Sydney. An’ it won’t cost you a penny, sir.”
“ But I want Killeny Boy,” the captain persisted.
“ An’ so do I, which is the worst of it, sir. Besides, I got him first.”
“ Twenty-five sovereigns is a lot of money . . . for a dog,”
