ed thim fish-eyes of his on to me, niver sayin' a
word, and put out wan hand, soft-like, to lay it on me, and I give wan
jump and was off down the street, runnin' as I niver run afore. And
him after me and gainin', the divil snatch him, if he ain't the divil
himsilf.

"What people they was on the street--praise be, they was but few at
that hour--comminced chasin' me, too, but 'twas but wan long block to
Devinsky's, here, and I come in that side door like I was a
autymobile, near drownin' Peter Casey in the beer he was carryin'. By
good luck Micky Doyle and Big McCarthy was drinkin' at the bar, and I
yells at thim: 'Stop thim, for the love of hiven! They're tryin' to
kidnap me!' and I wint out the front door like they was a thousand
divils clutchin' at me.

"And the boys did it, may the blessin' of hiven shine on thim, but wan
of thim fools what was helpin' chase me give that little spalpeen me
name, and this day has been a curse to me from worryin' over what may
happen me yit, though it's proud I should be over frustratin' the
nefarious plans of him."

Tim merely grunted. A tough-looking waiter entered through the
swinging door, approached the table where the two were sitting, and
tossed a dainty envelope in front of Patsy, with the announcement
that a messenger had brought it. It was addressed to "Patsy Moran,
Esq., Care of Devinsky's Place." Patsy opened it with nervous fingers,
and a newspaper clipping fell out upon the table, displaying the
unprepossessing features of a young man over the words: "Courtney
Schwartz, son of multi-Millionaire Chas. B. Schwartz, of Pittsburg."

A gasp from Patsy, another grunt from Tim, and the two of them seized
the letter with a common impulse, Tim's stolidity shaken for once.
There was dead silence while the two pairs of eyes followed the
straggling words of what was written there:

"My dear Mr. Moran:

"The enclosed clipping will convince you that I gave you my real
name, and that my father is abundantly able to pay ransoms. All I
told you about that bet may also be true, but as I took that story
back, I really can't say now whether it is or not. It doesn't
sound so, does it?

"It may be, on the other hand, that I merely figured out in the
beginning that you were the kind I could get so rattled you would
let me go before I got through with you. If that is true, it
worked, didn't it? But maybe it isn't true.

"If neither one of these things is true, w