be singled out as an object of vengeance for the
others. This individual was an Irishman; and, for a time, he held way
manfully against his assailants. But, at last, in spite of the exertions
of the "proprietor" to protect him, he was likely to get the worst of
it, when Hatchie, no longer able to control his indignation at the
unfairness displayed in the encounter, suddenly interfered in favor of
the now fallen man. His enormous strength and skill soon cleared the
room of the rioters. Hatchie drew the defeated Irishman into his
hiding-place, and locked the door. This man was Pat Fegan, who has been
introduced to the reader.

Pat was filled with gratitude to his protector, and swore he would stick
by him till his dying day, if he was a "naiger." A mutual friendship was
thus established, which resulted in the disclosure of their future
prospects. The fact that both were seeking the same destination seemed
to strengthen the bond thus formed. Hatchie, shrewd by nature, read the
true heart of the Irishman. He felt that he could trust him with his
life; but his ability was quite another thing.

Pat Fegan was without means, and readily accepted the hospitality which
Hatchie offered to pay for. In the course of the long conversations with
which the two friends beguiled the weary day, Pat related his adventures
in Mexico, at the close of which he casually mentioned that the remains
of several officers, who died there, were to be conveyed up the river.
Hatchie's curiosity prompted many inquiries, which drew from the
talkative Hibernian a full description of the boxes that contained the
coffins, and many particulars relative to the transportation of them.

Pat's description of the boxes suggested to Hatchie the means of getting
to Cincinnati.

"Could you get me a box like those which contain these coffins?" asked
he.

"Faix, I can, thin, if I only had the matther of two or three dollars.
But what the divil makes yous ax sich a question?"

"I will give you ten dollars, and pay your passage to Cincinnati
besides, if you will get me the box," said Hatchie, disregarding Pat's
query.

"By me sowl, I'll get yous the box, and ax yous only the price meself
pays for 't," replied Pat, touched at the idea of a reward, which
between friends seemed base even to his rude mind.

"And I shall want your help, too."

"Yous may well count on that, for whin did a Fegan desart his frind? But
tell me, honey, what yous mane to do wid it."