ooms, a kitchen and a general living
room. The fire in the former would have been enough for the interior, but
for the fact that a visitor had preceded Mike, and because of his
presence a roaring fire was burning on the hearth. In front of this sat a
young man leaning back in a rocking chair, with a bandaged leg resting on
a pillow laid upon a second chair in front of him. He was smoking a
cigarette, and despite the fact that something ailed him, looked quite
comfortable.

As the door opened, his eyes met those of Mike Murphy, who halted with
one foot over the threshold, started and exclaimed:

"Can I belave what me eyes tell me! Is it _yersilf_?"

The young man sitting before him, smoking and nursing his injured limb,
was Orestes Noxon, whom Mike chased away from the Beartown post office
the night before, and who received a part of the charge from the shotgun
of Gerald Buxton.

The face of the injured youth flushed and he laughed nervously, but with
amazing coolness answered:

"I guess you don't need spectacles. You've got the best of me; I'm down
and you're up."

"There's an old account to be squared atween us, but that can rist till
ye become yersilf. Be the same token, are ye much hurt?"

Mike's Irish sympathy immediately went out to the fellow, who certainly
was at his mercy.

"I can't say I am. But your clothing is wet. I heard a part of your talk
with Mrs. McCaffry--God bless her splendid soul!--so suppose you come
closer where you will be in front of the fire and can dry yourself, and
we'll get on better."

It was good advice and Mike acted upon it. Standing with his back to the
blaze, he looked down in the face of the criminal whose self-possession
he could not help admiring.

"You remember our little foot race from the back of the Beartown post
office?" said Noxon, as if referring to an incident in which he felt no
particular interest.

"I do, but I niver won a prize at running and ye give me the slip."

"Only to get in front of that beefeater with a shotgun. Why didn't you
fire when you were chasing and threatening me?"

"I couldn't have touched off that busted gun any more than I could have
fired a broom handle."

"I made the mistake of thinking the other fellow would be equally
forbearing and kept on running, till all at once, bang! he let drive. I
caught a good part of the charge in that leg below the knee. It didn't
hurt much at first, and after managing to get hold of his gun I made him