Entering the house, Jimmy introduced McNellis and McKenna to his better and greater half, and they received her apology for keeping them so long outside. It was: “Since the Yost affair, I have bin so much worritted by polace officers and their dirty spies, that, unless I know who the new-comers are, all hev to kape well outside until the man of the house is at home!” “That’s right!” said Kerrigan. “Certainly!” echoed the two strangers—strangers to her, but not to her husband—and McKenna, especially, cursed all detectives and policemen with such downright earnestness that he completely won the heart of Mrs. Kerrigan. “Sure, Misther Kerrigan,” said McNellis, “an’ I am sint to tell ye not to go beyant, to-night—if ye know what that manes, which I don’t. At any rate, the word is you’re not to come over the-night!” “I perfectly understhand!” replied Kerrigan. “Hugh McGehan an’ Bill Mulhall have just got in from Luzerne County!” “I’m glad to hear of that!” remarked the Bodymaster. “They are the boys for a swate thing!” There was little more conversation until after supper, of which all partook with keen appetite, when Kerrigan put on his coat, and McNellis reiterated the remark about “not goin’ over, because the boys were back.” “Be the way,” exclaimed Jimmy. “Will ye do me a small favor?” “Certainly I will!” answered McNellis. “I want ye to take Roarty over his revolver! It has been here long enough!” Kerrigan started to go upstairs, when McKenna brought out his pistol, at the same time saying: “Just look at this little beauty! Wasn’t that a raise to make for wan night’s worruk?” Kerrigan took the repeater, weighed it carefully in his hand, worked the lock, pronouncing it a splendid affair, then said: “Wait here a bit, an’ I’ll show you the one what kilt Yost!” The detective had evidently struck a vein that bid fair to prove productive, but he controlled his countenance to the expression of doubt in unmistakable terms, saying: “I guess not by these lights!” “But I will!” reiterated Jimmy. He left the room, ascending the dark staircase, and soon returned with a black, rather old-fashioned five-shooter, which he transferred to McKenna, employing the words: “That’s the gun what brought down the peeler, Yost!” All present had taken in much whisky, after eating, and McKenna judged most of Kerrigan’s share was gathering in his head. So delivering himself, at least, he was again informed he held the weapon that had “fixed the Dutch policeman!” The pistol carried a number thirty-two cartridge, and, although he was convinced of the truth of Kerrigan’s allegation, it served his purpose to give out disbelief. “I guess you’re wanderin’ a bit, there!” exclaimed the operative, “fur isn’t it currently reported that Barney McCarron, Yost’s own partner, shot him, because of a racent quarrel they’d had?”