s spinning."

"Truth," cried I. "That would be a light blow to trouble the great
O'Ruddy. Come now; let us have the pots filled again, and O'Ruddy
shall tell us more of his adventures. What say you, lads?"

The yokels had now recovered some of their senses, and they greeted my
plan with hoarse mutterings of hasty and submissive assent.

"Begin," said I sternly to the highwayman. He stood miserably on one
foot. He looked at the floor; he looked at the wall; from time to
time he gave me a sheep's glance. "Begin," said I again. Paddy was
wild with glee. "Begin," said I for the third time and very harshly.

"I--" gulped out the wretched man, but he could get no further.

"I am seeing I must help you," said I. "Come now, when did you learn
the art of sticadoro proderodo sliceriscum fencing?"

Bottles rolled the eyes of despair at me, but I took him angrily by
the shoulder. "Come now; when did you learn the art of sticadoro
proderodo sliceriscum fencing?"

Jem Bottles staggered, but at last he choked out: "My mother taught
me." Here Paddy retired from the room, doubled in a strong but
soundless convulsion.

"Good," said I. "Your mother taught you. We are making progress any
how. Your mother taught you. And now tell me this: When you slew
Cormac of the Cliffs, what passado did you use? Don't be stuttering.
Come now; quick with you; what passado did you use? What passado?"

With a heroism born of a conviction that in any event he was a lost
man, Jem Bottles answered: "A blue one."

"Good," I cried cheerfully. "'A blue one'! We are coming on fine. He
killed Cormac with a blue passado. And now I would be asking you--"

"Master," interrupted the highwayman with sudden resolution. "I will
say no more. I have done. You may kill me an it pleases you."

Now I saw that enough was enough. I burst into laughter and clapped
him merrily on the shoulder. "Be cheery, O'Ruddy," I cried. "Sure an
Irishman like you ought to be able to look a joke in the face." He
gave over his sulks directly, and I made him buy another pint each for
the yokels. "'Twas dry work listening to you and your exploits,
O'Ruddy," said I.

Later I went to my chamber, attended by my followers, having ordered
roast fowls and wine to be served as soon as possible. Paddy and Jem
Bottles sat on stools one at each side of the fireplace, and I
occupied a chair between them.

Looking at my two faithful henchmen, I was suddenly struck by the
thought that they we