snatched two other letters from the heap on the counter while the
postmaster's back was turned, paid the elevenpence, received the epistle
to which he was entitled, and rode home triumphant.

"Look at that!" he exclaimed, slapping the three letters down under his
broad fist on the table before the astonished squire. "He made me pay
elevenpence, by gor! But I've brought your honour the worth of your
money, anyhow."

"Well, by the powers!" said the squire, as Andy stalked out of the room
with an air of supreme triumph. "That's the most extraordinary genius I
ever came across!"

He read the letter for which he had been anxiously waiting. It was from
his lawyer about the forthcoming election. In it he was warned to beware
of his friend O'Grady, who was selling his interest to the government
candidate.

"So that's the work O'Grady's at!" exclaimed the squire angrily. "Foul,
foul! And after all the money I lent him, too!"

He threw down the letter, and his eye caught the other two that Andy had
stolen.

"More of that mad fool's work! Robbing the mail now. That's a hanging
job. I'd better send them to the parties to whom they're addressed."

Picking up one of the epistles, he found it was a government letter
directed to his new enemy, O'Grady. "All's fair in war," thought the
squire, and pinching the letter until it gaped, he peeped in and read:
"As you very properly remark, poor Egan is a spoon--a mere spoon." "Am I
a spoon, your villain!" roared the squire, tearing the letter and
throwing it into the fire. "I'm a spoon you'll sup sorrow with yet!"

"Get out a writ on O'Grady for all the money he owes me," he wrote to
his lawyer. "Send me the blister, and I'll slap it on him."

Unfortunately, he sent Andy with this letter; still more unfortunately,
Mrs. Egan also gave the simple fellow a prescription to be made up at
the chemist's. Andy surpassed himself on this occasion. He called at the
chemist's on his way back from the lawyer's, and carefully laid the
sealed envelope containing the writ on the counter, while he was getting
the medicine. On leaving, he took up a different envelope.

"My dear Squire," ran the letter Andy brought back, "I send you the
blister for O'Grady, as you insist on it; but I don't think you will
find it easy to serve him with it.--Your obedient, MURTOUGH MURPHY."

When the squire opened the accompanying envelope, and found within a
real instead of a figurative blister, he grew crimson with