“Good luck to you, anyhow! An’ be sure ye come to my house for your Christmas!” were Dormer’s parting words, as he clasped McKenna’s palm closely. Dan Kelly was equally warm in his requests, and profuse in regrets connected with their separation. Promising to be back in Pottsville by the holidays, if he could possibly make it convenient, the traveler stepped aboard the coach, and sped away on his journey. The detective, thinking it inexpedient to go direct from Pottsville to Shenandoah, decided upon visiting some other localities before stopping there. Perhaps he might secure valuable points which would set him before the Mollies in a favorable light. He had, early in the week, directed Superintendent Franklin to forward any letters of his to St. Clair. Stopping over, therefore, at that town, he received from the postmaster a missive containing instructions to go to some of the neighboring places, and then repair to Shenandoah. He answered these, and also wrote to Dormer, saying (what was not true) that he had met and agreed with a man to work on a new water basin, in the mountains; hence should slightly defer his visit to Shenandoah. He also told the innkeeper that he need not write, as it was impossible to say where he might remain, but agreeing to give him the proper address as soon as it could be decided upon. The next point to honor with his presence was Girardville, where McKenna knew there were many Mollies. Arriving there, he secured a room at a second-class hotel, and started out to see the place. At one of the saloons he encountered a man, who was named to him as Tom Durkin, _alias_ Lanky, a tall, raw-boned, ugly-looking fellow, who was drinking very heavily. This party the detective easily attached himself to, and soon learned that he was about to go to Shenandoah, to see some relatives and old-time associates. “Do you chance to know one Muff Lawler?” inquired the detective. “Know him? Do a child know its mother? Know him? Be the staff of St. Patrick, that I do! Right well! An’ are you acquainted wid him?” “Not personally,” answered McKenna, “but I’m on purty good terms wid Bushy Deenan, Capt. Gallagher, Dan Kelly, and more of his friends in Pottsville. An’, sure, they’re a jolly crowd!” “Faith, an’ I’ve been in this country, it war four years last Michaelmas, an’ never met their equals, nowhere! An’ you knows that set do ye?” Lanky shook hands with the detective, making much show of pleasure, and put his right forefinger to the right side of his face in a peculiar style, at the same time watching the movements of his companion. Then he asked: “Do you know anything about it?” “Not just at present,” responded McKenna, “but in the old times I was well posted!”