cy, possessing Irish
facility with either tongue or club.

Mr. Hampton during the course of his somewhat erratic career had
previously passed several eventful weeks in Glencaid. He was neither
unknown nor unappreciated at the Miners' Home, and having on previous
occasions established his reputation as a spender, experienced little
difficulty now in procuring promptly the very best accommodation which
the house afforded. That this arrangement was accomplished somewhat to
the present discomfort of two vociferous Eastern tourists did not
greatly interfere with his pleasurable interest in the situation.

"Send those two fellows in here to argue it out," he said, languidly,
after listening disgustedly to their loud lamentations in the hallway,
and addressing his remarks to Mrs. Guffy, who had glanced into the room
to be again assured regarding his comfort, and to express her deep
regret over the unseemly racket. "The girl has fallen asleep, and I 'm
getting tired of hearing so much noise."

"No, be hivings, an' ye don't do nuthin' of thet sort, Bob," returned
the widow, good-naturedly, busying herself with a dust-rag. "This is
me own house, an' Oi've tended ter the loikes of them sort er fellers
afore. There'll be no more bother this toime. Besides, it's a paceful
house Oi'm runnin', an' Oi know ye'r way of sittling them things. It's
too strenurous ye are, Misther Hampton. And what did ye do wid the
young lady, Oi make bould to ask?"

Hampton carelessly waved his hand toward the rear room, the door of
which stood ajar, and blew a thick cloud of smoke into the air, his
eyes continuing to gaze dreamily through the open window toward the
distant hills.

"Who's running the game over at the Occidental?" he asked,
professionally.

"Red Slavin, bad cess to him!" and her eyes regarded her questioner
with renewed anxiety. "But sure now, Bob, ye mustn't think of playin'
yit awhoile. Yer narves are in no fit shape, an' won't be fer a wake
yit."

He made no direct reply, and she hung about, flapping the dust-rag
uneasily.

"An' what did ye mane ter be doin' wid the young gyurl?" she questioned
at last, in womanly curiosity.

Hampton wheeled about on the hard chair, and regarded her quizzingly.
"Mrs. Guffy," he said, slowly, "you've been a mother to me, and it
would certainly be unkind not to give you a straight tip. Do? Why,
take care of her, of course. What else would you expect of one
possessing my kindly dis