“Well, times are rather hard here at present, but there’s a show of their soon mendin’. I hear that some collieries now lying idle, are to begin operations in a short time. If they do, then more hands will be needed. Perhaps some of the men here may know, better than I, the opportunities for immediate jobs. They are mostly miners. I say, Mike,” turning to the man McKenna had previously been speaking to, “is there a show for work, for a stranger, that you know about?” “Shure, an’ I don’t mind me of any! But some one else may!” And Mike, as he was called, with several others, came up to the bar, as if willing to be consulted. McKenna, thereupon, acting as he seemed to be called upon, under the circumstances, very promptly set forward drinks for all, which Kehoe prepared and the company disposed of with evident relish. The general expression, however, was that the operative would hardly be able to secure a job until more collieries commenced active work. While Kehoe stood concocting the different beverages, the detective embraced the opportunity, without appearing to do so, of observing the man more minutely. He was seemingly two or three years past forty, but time, in his flight, had been lenient, and left few noticeable traces upon his countenance. There were some impressions of crow’s feet at the outer corners of his small, sharp, light-blue eyes, occasionally a gray hair among the plentiful brown ones of his head and in the equally dark, full whiskers and mustache. The beard was noticeably lighter in color at the far ends, as though somewhat faded. The eyes were set too close together to give a square, honest look to the face, as a whole, which was slightly cadaverous in appearance. The nose, unnaturally sharp, as though pitted by small-pox, assisted in forming for Kehoe a fox-like and cunning look, and the forehead was straight and reasonably high. It was the impression of McKenna that, if Kehoe should ever get others into a difficulty, he would probably manage to keep out of it himself. He was athletic, erect, and could hold his own in a crowd, but did not seem inclined to quarrel, or risk his person too rashly in an encounter from which ingenuity could extricate him. Not above medium height, or weight, his shoulders were square and strong, and his limbs muscular and well proportioned. His hands, which had seen labor, now looked fair and white. Generally agreeable in manners to strangers as well as acquaintances, he claimed a number of friends, yet no really warm and devoted personal followers. Formerly a miner, the tavern proving more profitable and less laborious, he had of late years done very little manual labor. Whisky-selling and politics were giving him plentiful money and power, and he liked both exceedingly well.