ock clink. The door opened slowly, and
the veritable Mr. Daley limped in, and taking a key from his pocket,
unlocked the little box, and filling his tin pan, locked it, and was
walking off as independent as a wood-sawyer, making a slight whistle to
a watch that was stationed at the end of the passage. "It's you, is it?"
said Manuel, suddenly springing up and giving him a blow on the side of
the head that sent him and the contents of the pan into a promiscuous
pile on the floor. Daley gathered himself up and made an attempt to
reach the door, but Manuel, fearing what might be the consequence if
the other prisoners came to his assistance, shut the door before him and
fastened it on the inside.

"Bad luck to yer infernal eyes, will ye strike a white man, ye nager ye,
in a country like this same?" said Daley, as he was gathering himself
up. This incensed Manuel's feelings still more. To have insult added to
injury, and a worthless drunkard and thief abuse him, was more than he
could bear. He commenced according to a sailor's rule of science, and
gave Daley a systematic threshing, which, although against the rules of
the jail, was declared by several of the prisoners to be no more than
he had long deserved. As may have been expected, Daley cried lustily for
help, adding the very convenient item of murder, to make his case more
alarming. Several persons had crowded around the door, but none could
gain admittance. The jailer had no sooner reached the door, than (most
unfortunately for Manuel) he was called back to the outer door, to admit
Mr. Grimshaw, who had just rung the bell. The moment he entered, Daley's
noise was loudest, and reached his ears before he had gained the outside
gate. He rushed up-stairs, followed by the jailer, and demanded entrance
at the cell door, swearing at the top of his voice that he would break
it in with an axe if the command was not instantly obeyed.

The door opened, and Manuel stood with his left hand extended at Daley.
"Come in, gentlemen, I catch him, one rascal, what steal my provision
every day, and I punish him, what he remember when I leave."

Daley stood trembling against the wall, bearing the marks of serious
injury upon his face and eyes. "At it again, Daley? Ah! I thought you
had left off them tricks!" said the jailer.

Daley began to tell a three-cornered story, and to give as many possible
excuses, with equally as many characteristic bulls in them. "I don't
want to hear your stor