to the street, and watched his retreating
figure until lost to sight.

"'Curse him! Curse him!' hissed the old man vindictively. 'May the gods
destroy him! And Quong Lee will aid them! Give me but the chance; oh,
give me but the chance!' And he crossed his fingers.

"The subject of this cheerful soliloquy returned without delay to Sam
Yen's, who welcomed him with a wan smile, and after explaining some
minor details of the work, crept off to his cot. Ah Moy immediately
began his self-imposed task, and worked with a will, crooning the while
a quaint Celestial air. It was ironing day at Sam Yen's, and the new
hand did not object particularly to that part of the process. By a
quarter after four he had completed the job, and surveyed with much
satisfaction the neat bundles, duly ranged on the shelves.

"Dennis Coogan arrived at dusk, and throwing down his ticket and some
small change on the counter, walked off with his parcel, mumbling
something uncomplimentary about the dirty haythin' who kept honest folks
waitin' for their, clothin'. Later in the evening Sam Yen appeared, much
refreshed, and relieved his kind assistant. Ah Moy then left, cutting
short the thanks of his countryman.

"Honesty is the best policy, and it is to be regretted that this astute
maxim had not been more thoroughly kneaded into the moral make-up of Mr.
Dennis Coogan. Arriving at the house in K Street, Coogan, sneaking
through a side entrance and across the yard at the rear, took his
master's clothing up to his own little room over the stables, where he
carefully selected such articles as seemed to strike his fancy. It was
the night of the coachmen's ball, and Dennis did not propose to be
eclipsed at that event by any Jehu who ever handled the ribbons. So
there in readiness lay the hired dress-suit, the Major's gleaming linen,
and the other necessaries of evening attire. Coogan leisurely donned the
unaccustomed plumage, paying as much attention to his toilet as a
debutante when arraying herself for her first cotillion. After
struggling into a remarkably obstinate shirt he selected the highest
collar he could find, put it on, and admiringly surveyed the general
effect in a cracked mirror, turning his head this way and that as he did
so. Suddenly, with a gasping cry, he lurched forward, and fell heavily
to the floor.

"Great was the horror and distress in the Cragiemuir household the next
morning when the shockingly discolored body of the ill-fated