“Thanks! I’ll try in the future to show that I’m wan of the rale ould sthock!” At a late hour the landlord was much overcome with drink, and when he bolted the door, after McKenna’s departure, he shouted through the key-hole: “Come agin, the morrow, ye thafe of the worruld, or I’ll bate ye within an inch of your life!” Of course McKenna returned answer to this delicately-conveyed compliment that he’d “be sure to do that same!” Light and elastic was the step, and buoyant and hopeful the heart of the detective, that cloudy morning, when he sought his pillow in widow O’Regan’s domicile. He had now been for some two months in the stronghold of the Sleepers, or Mollie Maguires, and labored hard, day as well as night, to reach his present position of intimacy with men prominent in the order. Success, he thought, was about to crown his efforts. A few days passed, during which McKenna, who had purposely cut the acquaintance of Jennings and been given up by that young man as hopelessly in the snare set for him by Dormer, was continually found at the Sheridan House, gaining fast the reputation of an incorrigibly hard case, but a good singer and dancer, and jolly companion, nevertheless. One day, in the presence of one Arthur L’Velle, who was a Mollie, according to Dormer’s report, when the detective was bemoaning his bad luck in getting work, the tavern-keeper said: “I have regard for ye, McKenna, since ye whipped Frazer so handsomely, fur nuthin’ plazes me more’n to see a yout’ able an’ willin’ to put up his hands and take care of number one! Now, L’Velle”—turning to that person—“I’ll tell you what sort of an idea has just been runnin’ through my brain fur all the world like mice in a potato-bin. I’ve been thinkin’ I’d give McKenna, here, a loud letter to Mike Lawler, of Shenandoah, an’ it’s my private opinion that, if ‘Muff’ can’t get him a job, he may hunt the mines over all this winter widout findin’ one!” “An’ why do ye call him ye spake of ‘Muff’ Lawler?” asked the stranger. L’Velle answered: “Because of a choice breed of chickens that he raises! Dormer, your thought is a happy one! Lawler is a leader, up there, an’ I know his friendship will in that way be secured—an’ it’s valuable to any man!” “Yes,” said Dormer. “Lawler is the big dog in these parts now; beside he kapes a good tavern, and will see no old-timer, or young one either, for that matther, sufferin’ from want while he can relieve him!” Then L’Velle spoke up: “If it were not that Dormer and I are, for the present time, under a little cloud, I, for one, should insist that you be furnished with a _staff_ to guide your steps over the mountains and through the mines! But, by going up there and seeing Lawler, you’ll soon be as well provided for! I know Mike’ll do all he can for you!”