"But they wasn't no chanct to dodge him, and inside of ten minutes the two of us was settin' side by side in a subway car like both of us wanted to. He was gittin' cheerfuller ivry minute, and the cheerfuller he got, the more I fell to wishin' I'd niver seen the likes of him. He didn't look like anny human annyhow, and I begun prayin' the saints he wasn't, for if he _was_, thin they wasn't _anny_ answer to him. 'Tare and ages!' the thought come to me sudden, 'he's a detective, he is, and may the divil dance on the skinny back of him till they's snow a foot deep where the both of thim belongs! Sure, it's all plain now, ivrything he's been doin', and why wasn't I thinkin' of it whin I begun this kidnappin'--may I niver hear the word ag'in and bad scran to it!' "And thin, at the next station, in come a polayceman siven foot long and set down across the aisle within reachin' distance of his arm, and he niver made a sign beyond glancin' at him whin he come in! 'Thin he ain't,' I says to mesilf, sinkin' back in me seat. 'Ivrything they is he ain't, and anny wan of thim would be makin' me feel better. If he follows me clear home, I _will_ kidnap him, whether I want him or not, but if they's wan breath left in me body I'll escape from him afore that,' I goes on to mesilf, tryin' to think what I ate for supper and hopin' maybe it was all wan of thim nightmares. "It was but the beginnin' of me troubles. At the next station I tried to slip from him by pretindin' to ask the guard something and jump out just afore the doors was closed, but nothin' would do but he must be askin' the guard something himsilf. Wan of us asked if it was a express we was on and the other asked if it wasn't, and thin we set down ag'in togither. Whin we come to our station, I endivored to lose him wanct more, whin we was walkin' crosstown I tried it ag'in, and in Central Park I tried it twict. I might as well tried to dodge a ghost what was hauntin' me. And him cheerfuller than iver and not seemin' to notice annything! "'Look here, sor,' I says, whin he was pretty well into the East Side, feelin' I could stand no more of it, 'I've been thinkin' it over, and me conscience is hurtin' me. Ye niver did me no wrong, and here I am kidnappin' ye. It ain't right, sor, and I'm goin' to give ye your liberty and let ye go without chargin' ye annything.' "'Why,' says he, 'I don't want to git away!' he says, his voice growin' sorrowful. "'That ain't got annything to do with it, sor, askin' your pardon,' I says; 'it's me conscience, and they ain't anny use arguin' with a man's conscience whin its dander is up. I've got to let ye go, sor,' I says, 'and ye can do it now. I'll turn me back.' "'No, no,' says he, 'I know what ye're thinkin', but----'