“It’s like this,” explained Bernard, “as I understand it: He left Ireland after this thing Jerry’s been telling you about and went fighting in other countries. He turned his property over to two trustees to manage for the benefit of a little girl here--now Miss Kate O’Mahony. O’Daly was one of the trustees. What does he do but marry the girl’s mother--a widow--and lay pipes to put the girl in a convent and steal all the money. I told you at the beginning that it was a family squabble. I happened to come along this way, got interested in the thing, and took a notion to put a spoke in O’Daly’s wheel. To manage the convent end of the business I had to go away for two or three days. While I was gone, I thought it would be safer to have O’Daly down here out of mischief. Now you’ve got the whole story. Or, no, that isn’t all, for when I got back I find that the young lady herself has disappeared; and, lo and behold, here’s O’Daly turned up missing, too!” “What’s that you say?” asked Major Snaffle. “The young lady gone, also?” “Is it Miss Kate?” broke in Jerry. “Oh, thin, ’t is the divil’s worst work! Miss Kate not to be found--is that your m’aning? ’T is not consayvable.” “Oh, I don’t think there’s anything serious in _that_,” said Bernard. “She’ll turn out to be safe and snug somewhere when everything’s cleared up. But, in the meantime, where’s O’Daly? How did he get out of here?” The major rose and walked over to the door. He examined its fastenings and lock with attention. “It can only be opened from the outside,” he remarked as he returned to his seat. “I know that,” said Bernard. “And I’ve got a notion that there’s only one man alive who could have come and opened it.” “Is it Lin--me cousin, you mane?” asked Jerry. “Egor! He was never out of me sight, daylight or dark, till they arrested us together.” “No,” replied Bernard. “I didn’t mean him. The man I’m thinking of is The O’Mahony himself.” Jerry leaped to his feet so swiftly that the major instinctively clutched his revolver anew. But there was no menace in Jerry’s manner. He stood for a moment, his fat face reddened in the candle’s pale glow, his gray eyes ashine, his mouth expanding in a grin of amazed delight. Then he burst forth in a torrent of eager questioning. “Don’t you mane it?” he cried. “The O’Mahony come back to his own ag’in? W’u’d he--is it--oh, thin, ‘t is too good to be thrue, sir! An’ we sittin’ here! An’ him near by! An’ me not--ah, come along out ’o this! An’ ye’re not desayvin’ us, sir? He’s thruly come back to us?” “Don’t go too fast,” remonstrated Bernard “It’s only guess-work There’s nothing sure about it at all. Only there’s no one else who _could_ have come here.” “Thrue for ye, sir!” exclaimed Jerry, all afire now with joyous confidence. “’T is a fine, grand intelligince ye have, sir. An’ will we be goin’, now, major, to find him?” Under the influence of Jerry’s great excitement, the other two had risen to their feet as well.