l Eddie, I know your maw," persisted Billy. "I ben in your
maw's house jest a few weeks ago. 'Member the horsehair sofa between the
windows? 'Member the Bible on the little marble-topped table? Eh? An'
Tige? Well, Tige's croaked; but your maw an' your paw ain't an' they
want you back, Eddie. I don't care ef you believe me, son, or not; but
your maw was mighty good to me, an' you promise me you'll write her an'
then go back home as fast as you can. It ain't everybody's got a swell
maw like that, an' them as has ought to be good to 'em."

Beyond the closed door Eddie's jaw was commencing to tremble. Memory
was flooding his heart and his eyes with sweet recollections of an ample
breast where he used to pillow his head, of a big capable hand that was
wont to smooth his brow and stroke back his red hair. Eddie gulped.

"You ain't joshin' me?" he asked. Billy Byrne caught the tremor in the
voice.

"I ain't kiddin' you son," he said. "Wotinell do you take me fer--one o'
these greasy Dagos? You an' I're Americans--I wouldn't string a home guy
down here in this here Godforsaken neck o' the woods."

Billy heard the lock turn, and a moment later the door was cautiously
opened revealing Eddie safely ensconced behind two six-shooters.

"That's right, Eddie," said Billy, with a laugh. "Don't you take no
chances, no matter how much sob stuff I hand you, fer, I'll give it to
you straight, ef I get the chanct I'll make my get-away; but I can't do
it wit my flippers trussed, an' you wit a brace of gats sittin' on me.
Let's have a light, Eddie. That won't do nobody any harm, an' it may
discourage the rats."

Eddie backed across the office to a table where stood a small lamp.
Keeping an eye through the door on his prisoner he lighted the lamp and
carried it into the back room, setting it upon a commode which stood in
one corner.

"You really seen maw?" he asked. "Is she well?"

"Looked well when I seen her," said Billy; "but she wants her boy back
a whole lot. I guess she'd look better still ef he walked in on her some
day."

"I'll do it," cried Eddie. "The minute they get money for the pay I'll
hike. Tell me your name. I'll ask her ef she remembers you when I get
home. Gee! but I wish I was walkin' in the front door now."

"She never knew my name," said Billy; "but you tell her you seen the bo
that mussed up the two yeggmen who rolled her an' were tryin' to croak
her wit a butcher knife. I guess she ain't fergot. Me an' my pal