clod-hopper and place this
seasonable communication in his hands."

He accordingly rode rapidly into town again, where he had not been many
minutes when he met M'Mahon, burning with indignation at the language of
his landlord and the agent.

"I cannot have patience, Hycy," he exclaimed, "under such scoundrelly
language as this; and while I have breath in my body, he never shall
have my vote!"

"What's the matter, Bryan?" he asked; "you seem flushed."

"I do, Hycy, because I am flushed, and not without reason. I tell you
that my landlord, Chevydale, is a scoundrel, and Fethertonge a deceitful
villain."

"Pooh, man, is that by way of information? I thought you had something
in the shape of novelty to tell me. What has happened, however, and why
are you in such a white heat of indignation?"

M'Mahon immediately detailed the conversation which he had overheard
behind the bar of the inn, and we need scarcely assure our readers that
Hycy did not omit the opportunity of throwing oil upon the fire which
blazed so strongly.

"Bryan," said he, "I know the agent to be a scoundrel, and what is
nearer the case still, I have every reason--but you must not ask me to
state them yet,--I have every reason to suspect that it is Fethertonge,
countenanced by Chevydale, who is at the bottom of the distillation
affair that has ruined you. The fact is, they are anxious to get you out
of Ahadarra, and thought that by secretly ruining you, they could most
plausibly effect it."

"I have now no earthly doubt of it, Hycy," replied the other.

"You need not," replied Hycy; "and maybe I'm not far astray when I say,
that the hook-nosed old Still-hound, Clinton, is not a thousand miles
from the plot. I could name others connected with some of them--but I
wont, now."

When M'Mahon recollected the conversation which both Clinton and the
agent had held with him, with respect to violating the law, the truth
of Hycy's remark flashed upon him at once, and of course deepened his
indignation almost beyond endurance.

"They are two d--d scoundrels," pursued Hycy, "and I have reasons,
besides, for suspecting that it was their wish, if they could have done
it successfully, to have directed your suspicions against myself."

M'Mahon was, in fact, already convinced of this, and felt satisfied
that he saw through and understood the whole design against him, and was
perfectly aware of those who had brought him to ruin.

"By the way," said Hycy, "let m