The afternoon of the following day McKenna left his hotel, fully determined to secure an acquaintance with Jack Kehoe. The weather was stormy, business dull, and he would probably find a number of men congregated in the tavern. Kehoe’s residence—the Hibernian House—which is expected to play an important part in the pages of this work, was and still is a two-story frame building, situated convenient to business, not a great distance from the Catholic church in Girardville. Having its gable to the street, and a single square window at either end, directly beneath the peak of the roof, the usual supply of casements and doors for a structure of the size, and painted a dull, red color, on the ground floor, front, was the bar-room, and in the rear of that the kitchen. From the latter apartment a staircase gave access to the living rooms of the family in the story above. There was also a door from the bar, leading to the cook’s domain. Throughout the interior the arrangements for occupation were of a comfortable but inexpensive character, and everything was cared for in a manner evidencing the capacity of Mrs. Kehoe, in the _rôle_ of housekeeper, as better than ordinary. It was also reported in the town that she was the sharper member of the hymeneal firm, and fully in accord with her husband on the Mollie Maguire question. She probably approved his membership, not because of any particular bloodthirstiness in her disposition, but because the affiliation brought money to their family purse and politically elevated Jack Kehoe. Kehoe, as the operative had already heard, was a native of the city of Wicklow, Ireland, some twenty-seven miles from Dublin, and a man of but common education. His wife had been a Miss O’Donnel, of Mahanoy. Their family consisted at the time of five children. When the detective entered the saloon, he found several miners within, clad in their holiday suits, showing that they had not been working that day, or were on the night shift. The proprietor of the place, in person, was behind the counter, evidently in good humor, and everything passing to his satisfaction. McKenna stepped modestly to the bar, ordered a drink, swallowed it, paid the reckoning, and then occupied a seat on a bench while he filled and smoked his short pipe. Some pleasant words, dropped to a man near him, regarding the weather, were answered cheerfully, and soon the conversation took a wider range, engineered by the new arrival, and culminated in that person’s second call at the bar to inquire of Kehoe as to the prospect for work brightening up, and asking about the chances for a stranger getting employment. Kehoe responded quietly, without a very pronounced brogue: