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The two other men laughed so loudly at this story that Mr. Courtney looked up from his newspaper, and requested to know what was the joke. When he heard it he smiled, at the same time shaking his head deprecatingly, and saying:

"For my part, I confess I cannot stand Mr. O'Dwyer. He is a perfect Goth."

"Ah Chief, that's really because you don't know him," said Wainwright. "He's really an excellent fellow; isn't he, Billy?"

"If Mick had only a little money he would be charming," said Dunlop; "but he hasn't any. He's of some use to me, however; I've had no occasion to consult the calendar since Mick's been here. He borrows half-a-crown of me every day, and five shillings on saints'-days, and----"

"Hold on a minute, Billy," said Paul Derinzy; "if you lent Mick your clothes, you must have taken him home--to where you live, I mean; so that somebody has found out your den at last. What did you do? swear Mick to secrecy?"

"Better than that, sir; I brought the clothes down here, and made Mick put 'em on in his own room. No, sir, none of you have yet struck on my trail. Far in a wild, unknown to public view, From youth to age Mr. William Dunlop grew."