It was Wednesday, the twenty-first of January, that the detective encountered the object of his secret search, Michael Lawler, upon entering the Sheridan House, after breakfast. Lawler was deeply in his cups thus early in the day, yet sufficiently sober to walk erect and know exactly what he was about. It was cloudy, rough, and stormy outside, and the sort of day well calculated to tempt men to seek comfortable corners. A number of prominent and active Mollies were in Dormer’s place, with Lawler, when McKenna made his appearance there. He recognized, in the man he had been looking for, a rather prepossessing personage, something past forty in years, above medium height, heavily but not clumsily built—yet more fleshy than the generality of miners—with black hair and heavy side whiskers of the same dark color, the chin being shaven; eyes a deep hazel, and withal, “Muff” was slightly bald at the crown of the head. His cheeks wore a ruddy and healthful look, and the skin was fair and clear. As McKenna subsequently learned, Lawler claimed a wife and six children, the oldest of the offspring a girl of eighteen, and the youngest a boy past three years of age. He was quite pleasant in manner, free-spoken, and used a noticeable shade of Irish accent. He bore the reputation of being a steadfast friend, as well as a relentless but not subtle enemy. His absorbing passion was cock-fighting, and a rare breed of game chickens, which he raised and bet upon, called mufflers, gave him the _sobriquet_, among his intimates, of “Muff” Lawler. A practiced miner, strong, able-bodied and industrious, he usually obtained work at some of the collieries if such a thing was to be had in the vicinity. Upon the introduction of the detective to Lawler, by Dormer, which ceremony was performed in the grim giant’s most fascinating style, the Shenandoah man remarked: “I’m plazed to meet you, Mr. McKenna! Through your friend, and mine, Pat Dormer, I’ve heard about you, and begun to wonder where you were taking yoursel’ to—had expected to see you at my house in Shenandoah!” “Bad scran to me, but I’m glad that I’ve come up wid ye!” replied McKenna, “an’ I’m just from your town, where I stopped only a few hours. As work war dull there an’ I had no frien’s, you bein’ away, I jist rode over here to take another glass wid Dormer, an’ who should I run right forninst but the very person I have wanted to see! I shall only buy myself some warmer clothes an’ then go straight back to Shenandoah, where, if I can get work, an’ a dacent, comfortable boardin’-place, I propose stopping most of the winter—that is, providin’ some swate friends of mine, who are mighty pressin’ in their attentions, but that I don’t crave to see jist at this present moment, may not come afther me sooner. Av coorse I shall attind church while I’m here, as it may be me last chance for some length of time!”