Promptly accepting the invitation, as he was certainly in for it by reason of his appearance on the spot, the detective deliberately raised his pistol, and, in rapid succession, fired two shots, both of which struck the target near its centre. “Bedad! He’s as good at firing bullets as he is cuttin’ them out of wounds!” shouted the individual with the fur cap, putting away his pistol. “He’s bate the best shot; an’ now I move that we quit, before the policeman comes an’ interferes wid our little divarsions!” The suggestion was taken advantage of by Marks, the guttered candle extinguished, and, headed by the operative, all made their devious way to the bar-room, where, from the reason of his close firing, McKenna was informed he would be expected to stand treat. This he willingly did, and the men—excepting such as were found physically unable—soon began to disperse. The few remaining were disposed of as expeditiously as possible, some in bed-rooms, and others in seats beside the fire, where they would be in no danger of freezing to death. Then the disgusted landlord and the worn-out detective retired to their respective apartments. McKenna gained his bed, prepared for a nap, while the sun was ushering in another day. As a natural consequence of passing such a horrible night, the agent slept late, and it was near dinner-time when he arose greatly refreshed. The same day he received a line from John Deenan, _alias_ “Bushy,” in response to one he had previously sent the tavern-keeper. As Deenan’s epistle forms a portion of this eventful history—although its author has long since been gathered to his fathers—it is printed in full, as follows: POTTSVILLE, JAN. 19, 1874. DEAR SIR:—I received your welcome letter, which gave me a great deal of pleasure. I was glad to hear from you. I have written to Alex. Campbell to inform you of what is going on there, so you can go to him and he will tell you all about it. He lives at the upper part of Tamaqua. He keeps a tavern. We are all well at present. Yours truly, JOHN DEENAN.