lence
again.

"You'll no be a Papist?" he said.

"Certainly not," I replied. "In fact I am a church-warden."

McConkey thrust his hand deep into a hip pocket in the back of his
trousers and drew out a somewhat soiled packet of yellow tracing
paper.

"Look at thon," he said.

I unfolded the tracing paper and found on it drawings of a machine
gun. Cahoon peered over my shoulder.

"She's a bonny wee thing," said McConkey.

She looked to me large and murderous. Cahoon expressed his admiration
for her, so I said nothing.

"I'll no be that badly off for something to fight with," said
McConkey, "when the time comes."

"Do you mean to say," I said, "that you've bought that weapon?"

"I haven't her bought yet," said McConkey; "but I have the money by
me."

"And you actually mean--" I said.

"Ay. I do."

I looked at Cahoon. He was still studying the drawings of the gun.

"It'll be queer," said McConkey, slowly, "if she doesna' land a few of
them in hell before they have me catched."

I turned to Cahoon again.

"Do you really think," I said, "that he--?"

"We're business men," said Cahoon, "and we don't throw away our
money."

"But," I said, "who are you going to shoot at? It would be silly to
attack a tax collector with a gun like that. I don't see who--"

"Oh," said Cahoon, "don't fret about that. We'll find somebody to
shoot at."

"There'll be plenty," said McConkey, "when the time comes."

"The real difficulty," said Cahoon, "is that--"

"They'll no be wanting to stand up till us," said McConkey.

The relations of Capital with Labour are, I understand, strained in
other parts of the United Kingdom. Here, with Home Rule on the
horizon, they seem to be actually cordial. There is certainly a good
deal to be said for Lady Moyne's policy. So long as Cahoon and
McConkey have a common taste for making domestic pets of machine guns
they are not likely to fall out over such minor matters as wages and
hours of work.

I had a good deal to think of as Cahoon drove me back to Castle Affey.
My main feeling was one of great personal thankfulness. I shall never,
I hope, take part in a battle. If I do I hope I shall be found
fighting against some properly organized army, the men and officers of
which have taken up the business of killing in a lofty professional
spirit. I cannot imagine anything more likely to shatter my nerve than
to be pitted against men like McConkey, who neither drink nor smoke,
but save a