Jerry’s quizzical eyes studied his companion’s face in turn, first doubtingly, then with an air of reassurance. “I do not, your honor,” he said at last, visibly restraining the impulse to say a great deal more. “I’m the O’Mahony of Murrisk, an’ I’m returnin’ to my estates.” Jerry did prolonged but successful battle once more with his sense of humor and loquacious instincts. “All right, your honor,” he said, with humility. “Maybe I don’t look like an Irishman or talk like one,” the other went on, “but that’s because I was taken to America when I was a little shaver, knee-high to a grasshopper, an’ my folks didn’t keep up no connection with Irishmen. That’s how I lost my grip on the hull Ireland business, don’t you see?” “Sure, your honor, it’s as clear as Spike Island in the sunshine.” “Well, that’s how it was. And now my relations over here have died off--that is, all that stood in front of me--and so the estates come to me, and I’m The O’Mahony.” “An’ it’s proud ivery mother’s son of your tin-ints ‘ll be at that same, your honor.” “At first, of course, I didn’t know but the lawyers ’ud make a kick when I turned up and claimed the thing. Generally you have to go to law, an’ take your oath, an’ fight everybody. But, pshaw! why they jest swallered me slick’n clean, as if I’d had my ears pinned back an’ be’n greased all over. Never asked ‘ah,’ ‘yes,’ or ‘no.’ Didn’t raise a single question. I guess there ain’t no White in the business now. I didn’t see him or hear anything about him. But Carmody’s a reg’lar old brick. They wasn’t nothin’ too good for me after he learnt who I was. But what fetched him most was that I’d seen Abe Lincoln, close to, dozens o’ times. He was crazy to know all about him, an’ the assassination, an’ what I thought ’ud be the next move; so’t we hardly talked about The O’Mahony business at all. An’ it seems ther’s been a lot o’ shenanigan about it, too. The fellow that came out to America to--to find me--Linsky his name was--why, darn my buttons, if he hadn’t run away from Cork, an’ stole my papers along with a lot of others, countin’ on peddlin’ ’em over there an’ collarin’ the money.” “Ah, the thief of the earth!” said Jerry. “Well, he got killed there, in about the last battle there was in the war; an’ ’twas by the finding of the papers on him that--that I came by my rights.” “Glory be to God!” commented Jerry, as he buried his jowl afresh in the tankard of stout. A term of silence ensued, during which what remained of the food was disposed of. Then The O’Mahony spoke again: “Are you a man of family?” “Well, your honor, I’ve never rightly, come by the truth of it, but there are thim that says I’m descinded from the O’Higginses of Westmeath. I’d not venture to take me Bible oath on it, but--” “No, I don’t mean that. Have you got a wife an’ children?” “Is it me, your honor? Arrah, what girl that wasn’t blind an’ crippled an’ deminted wid fits wud take up wid the likes of me?”