“No! I disagrees wid ye in that altogether! It is the Mollie Maguires that’s doin’ the wrong! Such articles in the _Pilot_ will have a good effect, an’ do somethin’—of which there’s pressin’ want—toward breakin’ up the clan! God knows it nades dispersin’ an’ punishin’ too! Such bodies is a burnin’ shame an’ disgrace to the men in them, an’ they befoul all Irishmen and all good Catholics! Ye naden’t be surprised if ye mate them yoursel’! They’ve had ’em here, even, where there live so few from our country! But Father McLaughlin druv ’em out wid the hardest words ye iver heard from the lips of a clergyman! God prosper him for that same! An’ since they left, we’ve had pace an’ quiet in town, wid no killin’s and batin’s.” It would not do for the listener to permit such an opportunity to say a word in favor of his particular friends, the Mollie Maguires, to pass unimproved. While the sentiments expressed were his own, to the letter, he must dissemble and oppose them. Therefore he replied: “Now, fur the life of me, I can’t see why Irish Catholics cannot have a dacent, paceable society of their own—if there be the laste touch of sacracy about it—widout the papers an’ the clergy interloguing and opposing! Wur any harm done by the Masons and Odd Fellows, shure there wouldn’t be a word in the public press about it. An’ what’s the raison that this society should be abused?” “You are all wrong! My experience goes agin’ the order! I knows some men who hev bin members, but they come out of it. They saw enough! By my sowl, I’d as soon go colloguing wid the devil, hoof, horns, tail and all, as wid the murtherin’ rascals! Harken to this, now! If any wan of the crew wur discharged from work an’ wanted fur to sake revinge—which the same is swate the worruld over—he jist went to the headquarters of the society, or to the president, or whativer they call him, which is the head official, an’ made out that it wur from religious differences he lost his place, or because he wur an Irishman; and then lots ud be cast, sure, an’ two or more of the brothers—bad cess to such a brotherhood!—must go, whether they would or no, an’ jist shoot down the boss that had cut him off! O, ye may spake all yer soft words, an’ shake yer head, an’ not belave me, fur I consider it awfully incredible myself, that Irishmen will do such things; an’ ye may call me distraught, an’ all that; but I knows what I says, an’ my advice is not to be afther defendin’ the murtherin’, thavin’ set, if ye want to be respected in this region of country! Don’t ye bother wid the Mollie Maguires!” Before McKenna had time for a reply, the afternoon passenger train came shrieking around an abrupt curve, the switchman seized his keys and flag, and ran off to attend to his duties; and the detective, pocketing the Boston newspaper, intending to return it, retired to his boarding-place. The _Pilot_, he thought, would prove a valuable document to him, from the article he had been discussing.