s' plays, he was doomed
to a bitter disappointment and would probably leave the place in three
weeks.

But Dr. Farelly was not going to give up hope without a struggle. He
put the letter in his pocket and walked across the road to Timothy
Flanagan's shop.

"Flanagan," he said, "I've got a man to take on my job here."

"I'm glad to hear it, doctor," said Flanagan. "It would be a pity now
if something was to interfere with you, and you wanting to be off
massacring the Germans. If the half of what's in the papers is true, its
massacring or worse them fellows want."

"The trouble is," said Dr. Farelly, "that the man I've got may not
stay."

"Why wouldn't he stay? Isn't Dunailin as good a place to be in as any
other? Any sensible man----"

"That's just it," said Dr. Farelly. "I'm not at all sure that this is a
sensible man. Just listen to this."

He read aloud the greater part of the letter.

"Now what do you think of the man who wrote that?" he asked; "what kind
of fellow would you say he was?"

"I'd say," said Flanagan, "that he's a simple, innocent kind of man; but
I wouldn't say there was any great harm in him."

"I'm very much afraid," said Dr. Farelly, "that he's too simple and
innocent. That's the first thing I have against him. Look here now,
Flanagan, if you or anyone else starts filling this young fellow up with
whisky--it will be an easy enough thing to do, and I don't deny that
it'll be a temptation. But if you do it you'll have his mother or his
aunt or someone over here to fetch him home again. That's evidently the
kind of man he is. And if I lose him I'm done, for I'll never get anyone
else."

"Make your mind easy about that, doctor. Devil the drop of whisky he'll
get out of my shop while he's here, and I'll take care no other one will
let him have a bottle. If he drinks at all it'll be the stuff he brings
with him in his own portmanteau."

"Good," said Dr. Farelly, "I'll trust you about that. The next point is
his health. You heard what he said about his heart and his lungs and his
stomach."

"He might die on us," said Flanagan, "and that's a fact."

"Oh, he'll not die. That sort of man never does die, not till he's about
ninety, anyhow. But it won't do to let him fancy this place doesn't
agree with him. What you've got to do is to see that he gets a proper
supply of good, wholesome food, eggs and milk, and all the rest of it."

"If there's an egg in the town he'll get it," said Flanagan,