McKenna had not gone far when he met Lawler returning to Mulligan’s accompanied by a deputy sheriff. “Hurrah!” shouted Lawler, when he saw the young man, apparently unharmed. “Then ye are not kilt enthirely?” “An’ phat did ye run off afther?” queried McKenna, appearing greatly offended. “I think ye might’ev stopped at laste to carry away me dead body, afther the matin’ wid Dick Flynn, the murtherous thafe of the worruld!” “Didn’t I ride away, wid all me power, to get me revolver, which, like a looney that I am, I had left snug at home? An’ wasn’t I so disabled, from me wound, that I couldn’t tak’ any part in the pother? Didn’t I think there’d be nade of an officer, sure—an’ isn’t wan here? Faith, ye kin now take the boy to jail in a twinklin’! But where is Dick Flynn, the insanity that he is!” “Well, a poor excuse suits ye as well as any!” answered the operative. “But I forgive ye, seein’ as how I wur successful in handlin’ the man! You’ll find him, all swate an’ cooled down like, in Mrs. Mulligan’s beer closet, an’ all ye hev to do is to put a revolver close to his head, an’ he’ll walk quieter nor a lamb, wherever ye may wish. I have his knife and pistol—here they are—an’ the kays to the doors—take thim along, too—you kin do wid the fellow as ye wish! Right here, I wash me hands of the business enthirely!” McKenna handed the weapons and keys to the officer, and, stubbornly turning on his heel, rapidly journeyed homeward. Flynn was removed to jail, at Shenandoah, where he remained a few days and was eventually released, the witness for the State having been coaxed by Mrs. Mulligan not to appear against him. The poor woman was afraid that, if punished, Dick would make her home too hot for her. Thenceforward, however, Flynn bore himself quite decently toward both of his former enemies, and gave McKenna a wide berth if he chanced to find himself where he might possibly encounter him. This may be set down as one of the many adventures of a critical and dangerous nature which the detective experienced during the course of his first year’s residence in the anthracite region. He had still others, but they will receive attention in an appropriate place. With these tragical rencounters there arose also occasional experiences which were of a more pleasant sort. Among the latter was his participation in a Polish marriage ceremony, transpiring in the vicinity of Shenandoah only a short time subsequent to the sudden meeting with drunken Dick Flynn, just alluded to. Pete Monaghan, Ed. Fergus, and Tom McNulty accompanied my representative on the trip. In view of this fact, and their future relations with our work, it may be best more particularly to introduce them to the reader’s attention.