“That nade make no difference,” returned McKenna, “fur I’ll stand the expense! You see I’ve had good luck in a ‘quare’ way, lately, an’ can afford a bit of a lark! Jist join in wid me, we’ll go to Hester’s, have a good time, an’ be back here in a few days!” “I promised Jack Kehoe I’d help him wid his garden fence; but I’ll see! If he’ll let me off, I’m yer man, an I’ll introduce ye to Pat Hester and all the young Hesters wid pleasure!” Kehoe was glad enough to get rid of Donahue, for a while—though he might have particular use for such as he in a little time—as Tom drank more whisky, by half, than would hire a man who could perform twice as much work. So the two men started. While _en route_, after having swallowed a few drinks, Donahue proved very loquacious, and wanted to tell the detective all about the recent destruction of Empire Colliery near Excelsior, but McKenna gently stopped him, saying: “It is a courtin’ we are goin’, an’ not to a match at telling long yarns!” This, as the officer had expected, only aroused the pugnacity of his companion, and prompted him, from pure obstinacy, to keep up the conversation. Once more recurring to the subject, he went on—the hearer apparently absorbed in contemplation of the happiness in store, through sparking Hester’s daughter, but, in reality, noting in his mind the most trivial incident Donahue alluded to—and was telling, not only of burnings in which he had been engaged, but in pointing out those yet to be consummated in the locality. In this way the fellow was literally pumped dry. Occasionally McKenna would interrupt the flow of criminal talk with: “But phat about Pat Hester’s daughter?” “To h—l wid Pat Hester’s daughter!” would be the impatient reply of the drunken Mollie, and then he would proceed, with much volubility and extravagance of gesture, to unfold a new rascality, tell of late outrages, and who had performed them, with a detail of fact and incident convincing the detective that, with Donahue at least, the old saying, _in vino veritas_, was as correct in modern times as in the days of Imperial Rome, for the more whisky Donahue drank the more recklessly he spoke the truth, and the more McKenna opposed his thus talking, the more he would insist upon dwelling on the very topics that the operative desired to hear about. In this way, out came the fact of the recent burning of a bridge at the junction, when the watchman had run after and fired upon the incendiaries. Donahue confessed to having burnt the telegraph office in the neighborhood, himself, and said he was not yet through. In several of the deeds he was not a participant, but he knew something concerning all of them and who were the real perpetrators.