“Now eat, my friends, eat just as much as you want, and then I'll catch the thief that breaks my lock and steals my meat. I catch him,” said Manuel. After they had all done, he locked the balance up in his box, and sent everybody down-stairs into the yard, first covering himself with two mattrasses, and giving orders to Copeland to lock the door after him. Every thing was ready to move at the word. In this position he remained for nearly half an hour. At length he heard a footstep approach the door, and then the lock clink. The door opened slowly, and the veritable Mr. Daley limped in, and taking a key from his pocket, unlocked the little box, and filling his tin pan, locked it, and was walking off as independent as a wood-sawyer, making a slight whistle to a watch that was stationed at the end of the passage. “It's you, is it?” said Manuel, suddenly springing up and giving him a blow on the side of the head that sent him and the contents of the pan into a promiscuous pile on the floor. Daley gathered himself up and made an attempt to reach the door, but Manuel, fearing what might be the consequence if the other prisoners came to his assistance, shut the door before him and fastened it on the inside. “Bad luck to yer infernal eyes, will ye strike a white man, ye nager ye, in a country like this same?” said Daley, as he was gathering himself up. This incensed Manuel's feelings still more. To have insult added to injury, and a worthless drunkard and thief abuse him, was more than he could bear. He commenced according to a sailor's rule of science, and gave Daley a systematic threshing, which, although against the rules of the jail, was declared by several of the prisoners to be no more than he had long deserved. As may have been expected, Daley cried lustily for help, adding the very convenient item of murder, to make his case more alarming. Several persons had crowded around the door, but none could gain admittance. The jailer had no sooner reached the door, than (most unfortunately for Manuel) he was called back to the outer door, to admit Mr. Grimshaw, who had just rung the bell. The moment he entered, Daley's noise was loudest, and reached his ears before he had gained the outside gate. He rushed up-stairs, followed by the jailer, and demanded entrance at the cell door, swearing at the top of his voice that he would break it in with an axe if the command was not instantly obeyed. The door opened, and Manuel stood with his left hand extended at Daley. “Come in, gentlemen, I catch him, one rascal, what steal my provision every day, and I punish him, what he remember when I leave.” Daley stood trembling against the wall, bearing the marks of serious injury upon his face and eyes. “At it again, Daley? Ah! I thought you had left off them tricks!” said the jailer.