nd him
carryin' on and spendin' money as if he could afford it."

The three waited, watching in silence, whilst the semi-intoxicated
fellow tumbled out of his rig and walked with uncertain footsteps to
the tavern door.

"An' what be ye wantin' the night?" spoke up Nancy, barring his
entrance, and all the softness gone from her voice.

"Wantin', ye silly woman! what d'ye suppose I'd chance breakin' me neck
gettin' out o' me buggy fer, but a drink o' yer best brewed?"

"Not a drop, James Bennet. Ye needn't come round my door askin' fer
liquor. You, with a sick wife and a house full o' childer! It's a
wonder ye're not ashamed. Better put yer head under the pump and then
git ye home. Ye're no man at all, James, and I've told ye so before."

"It's not refusin' an old frien', are ye, Mistress McVeigh?" Bennet
asked, coaxingly.

"Ye're no frien' o' mine, I'd like ye to understand, and if Mary O'Neil
had taken my advice years ago, ye'd hev niver had the chance o' abusin'
her."

"Ye're not doubtin' that I have the change?" pleaded Bennet, digging
his hands deeply into his pocket, as if to prove his statement.

"More's the pity, then, fer it should be at home with yer wife, who'd
know how to keep it."

"Ye're very hard on me," he whined, edging up the steps.

"Ye may thank yer stars I'm no harder," threatened the unyielding Nancy.

"I tell ye, Mrs. McVeigh, I'm burnin' with thirst, and I'm goin' to
have only one."

"Ye're not, sor."

"I will, ye old shrew! Out o' my way!" he exclaimed, with an ugly
showing of temper, and moved as if to force an entrance. But Nancy
McVeigh had learned life from the standpoint of a man, and, reaching
forward, she sent him tottering from the verandah. Nor did she
hesitate to follow up her advantage. With masculine swiftness and
strength she seized him by the collar, and in a trice had him head
downwards in the horse-trough.

"Now will ye go home, ye vagabond?" she exclaimed, with grim certainty
of her power. The man spluttered and wriggled ineffectually for a few
minutes, and then called "Enough!"

"Off with ye," she said, releasing him, but with a menace in her tones
which suggested that to disobey would mean a second ducking. The
drunken coward climbed into his buggy, muttering imprecations on the
head of the obdurate hostess of the tavern as he did so. But he had no
stomach for further resistance. Mr. Conors and Mr. O'Hagan had been
interested spectators, and now