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"I've had the time of my life here with you alone. And I'm going to wind up with you alone. No outsiders. Two's a company, three's a mob." Something, he knew not what, impelled sober, impassive Tom to sit down for a few moments on the edge of the bunk where his friend lay.
"Why, no, Mr. March, I don't know where you'll find pop-a right now. I might possibly know when I get back to the house. If it's important I could send you word." "O no! O no! Not at all! I'll find him easily enough. I hope you'll both pardon me, Miss Fannie, but it seems as if I learned some things pow'ful slow. I ought to know by this time when two's company and three's a crowd."
"Well," he went on, "two's company and three's trumpery; I'm sorry to be in Ranford's way, and I suppose I shall have to take myself off again in a day or two and give him a show." And he laughed at his own joke. The very next day, as it happened, Mr. Ranford called. The footman said the three were very merry over their tea in the library, and Mr. Brympton strolled down to the gate with Mr.
"Never mind whether there are others or not, and never mind about what you consider us three's enough to settle your matter for you. You'll prove that you threw a stone, or it shall go hard with you." "That's so!" shouted the crowd, and surged up as closely as they could to the center of interest.
The other three's from Teernabraighera beyant. They're related to my brother-in-law, Mick Dillon, by his first wife's brother-in-law's uncle. They're come to this neighborhood till the 'Sizes, bad luck to them, goes over; for you see, they're in a little throuble." "The Lord grant them safe out of it, poor boys!"
For Raynor One's face, controlled and stern, had not altered all during their interview, but Raynor Three's smile was wry and kindly at once, and his voice was low and gentle. "He's the image of Rupert. Did he come in on his own name? How'd he manage it?" "No. He had David Briscoe's papers." "So the old man got through," said Raynor Three, with a low whistle. "But that's not safe.
We're middlin' safe to be collared in the selection, an' we're jist as safe to be collared in the ram-paddick. Choice between the divil an' the dam. An' there's too big a township o' wagons together. Two's enough, an' three's a glutton, for sich a season as this." "I think Cooper and I had better push on to the ram-paddock," suggested Thompson. "You three can work on the selection.
"'I hope, ma'am, says I, and I was a guid deal nettled, 'I hope, ma'am, ye dinna tak' me to be a drunkard. Indeed, three's just my set. I aye say to my cronies, there is nae luck till the second tumbler, and nae peace after the fourth. So ye perceive, there's not the smallest danger o' me. "'Ah, but, David, replied she, 'there is danger.
There's cases, they say, where two's company, and three's overmuch; but you may fix it for yourselves next time, and welcome; and there's one bit o' wisdom I've got by it, foller true-lovyers, and they'll wear your feet off, and then want you to go on the stumps!" "We won't relieve you yet, Betsy," said Gilbert; "will we, Martha? The good work you've done for us isn't finished." "Isn't finished.
The old sayin' is that three's a crowd, but it took a crowd to hold all the joyfulness that we was luggin' that night, an' it was ten o'clock before we turned around on the velvet carpet an' came swingin' back to the house. We had to finish with a little race, an' I was rejoiced to see that old Starlight hadn't become a back number, even though the bay colt did make it a mighty close finish.
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