to the kitchen or dining-room,” he thought. It must be in one or the other, and in which he could not decide. Upon opening the entrance of the latter place, however, the mystery was quickly solved, and a strange spectacle presented itself to his vision. ————●———— CHAPTER XII. McKENNA MEETS A MORNING ADVENTURE. Before him was the long, low, dark dining-room, only a small portion of which, at one extremity, was illuminated by a single tallow candle, trussed to the wall with an old, rusty, bone-handled fork, and the flaring lamp held over his own head. On a line with, and at one end of the deal table, which extended nearly from one side of the apartment to the other, and at a place properly described as the head of the board, were grouped in deep shadow, only broken by fitful flashes from McKenna’s light, a number of men, all sporting revolvers, rapidly loading and firing, without regard to order or regularity, at the target—a rough, white hat, loosely nailed to the partition not far from the candle. Every member of the reckless gang was more or less intoxicated. Among them the spectator saw several of Dougherty’s friends, but the leader himself had been put in bed—otherwise under the dresser—about an hour earlier, and there he reposed, his uncovered head—rough, long-haired, and pallid as to face—supported on the bent right arm, as helpless as an infant and almost as still as a stone model of the spirit that he evidently worshipped—Bacchus. [Illustration: “_And there he reposed, his uncovered head,——rough, long-haired and pallid as to face,——supported on his bent right arm._”] “Halloo! here’s the docther!” exclaimed a short, ruffianly fellow, wearing a huge fur cap, thrown backward from his forehead, showing his front hair, black, short, and stiff, and holding in his hand a revolver full half a yard long, which he had just discharged a dozen times at the mark without once coming within the length of his weapon of hitting it. “Halloo! Give the docther a chance!” “Yes! Give us a taste of your marksmanship!” said the frightened publican, who had remained with his gentle and lamb-like patrons to protect his furniture as well as he could and prevent the wild madcaps from firing the building in the course of their innocent gambols. As it was, the thin barrier of plank, separating the dining-room from the kitchen, was thickly perforated with black apertures, ranging from the size of a pea to that of a musket bullet. Luckily, at that hour of the morning, no person was employed, or chanced to be in, the culinary department of the house, and hence injury to life and limb had not resulted from the careless use of fire-arms. The wall only was shattered, and it, while made of wood and neatly covered with light paper, bore the appearance of having been irregularly pierced with innumerable circular openings for purposes of ventilation.