Casey’s shanty consisted of a single room, and a half loft overhead, to which latter place access was had by a wooden ladder. In the lower apartment slept the man and wife, on a bed in one corner. In the same room they also ate, drank, did their washing, cooking, and sold whisky and tobacco. Only one window, the door, and a big chimney gave light and ventilation to the shop. It was a rough retreat, but far better and warmer than out-of-doors, and quite acceptable under the circumstances. Old Mrs. Casey—blind of one eye, not exactly handsome-looking, and only partly dressed—was by this time ready to wait on her unexpected but not unwelcome customers. By again shouting “whisky-punch” in McAndrew’s ear, the detective managed to put his friend upright, and, after imbibing more drink, assisted him to ascend the steep ladder, to the only spare bedroom in the building. Maguire had to be shaken for half an hour, some matches set off under his nose, and one slightly touched to his cheek, before he could be sufficiently awakened to drag himself to the same portion of the cabin. Covering the men with the hay forming their couch, and all the clothes he could find, McKenna left the drowsy worthies. The loft would only contain two. “Now phat are we to do wid you?” inquired old man Casey. “Oh, I kin sit up! Its not long ’til mornin’!” “An’ ye shall do no such thing!” said Mrs. Casey. “I knows a trick worth two o’ that!” She then went hunting about the room until she found an old shawl and some bags, the latter suitable for holding corn. These she spread on the floor before the hearth stone, beyond which was a rosy, red bed of anthracite, resting upon a novel grate, made of railroad iron and smaller bars, and which was sending a genial warmth throughout the apartment. “Auld man! Get ye to bed!” said Mrs. Casey. He obeyed the command, and his wife piled upon the recumbent McKenna—who had placed himself, dressed as he was, on the improvised mattress, in accordance with an imperious gesture of Mrs. Casey—her husband’s lately vacated coat, and other garments. Then she said: [Illustration: “_Now shut your eyes!_”] “Now, lad, shut your eyes!” McKenna did so, and presently heard a rustling, as of changing garments, and felt his coverings greatly augmented in weight. Mrs. Casey retired to the scant and only bed the place afforded. “I hope ye’ll slape comfortably!” said Mike, laughing. The operative knew that the kind-hearted old lady had heaped her own woolen garments upon him in default of other comforts. The wind came up so furiously through the crevices in the floor, and the snow sifted down so plentifully from the roof, that the tired man could not rest. Excepting on one occasion, however, when he thought he heard Casey get up, and turned to see that it was not his step but that of his helpmate, he pretended to slumber, out of regard for and not to hurt the feelings of the kindly pair who had taken them in.