l.
That's the way it shapes up to me. Meanwhile if it gets into court, two
or more lines are ready to tighten about you. Keep yourself in straight
paths and you are sure at last to win. I have no fear for you, Phil, but
be a man every minute."

I understood him. As I left the courthouse, I met O'mie. There was a
strange, pathetic look in his eyes. He linked his arm in mine, and we
sauntered out under the oak trees of the courthouse grounds.

"Phil, do ye remimber that May mornin' when ye broke through the vines
av the Hermit's Cave? I know now how the pityin' face av the Christ
looked to the man who had been blind. I know how the touch av his hands
felt to them as had been lepers. They was made free and safe. Wake as I
was that sorry mornin' I had one thought before me brain wint dark, the
thought that I might some day help you aven a little. I felt that way in
me wakeness thin. To-day in me strength I feel it a hundred times more.
Ye may not nade me, but whin ye do, I'm here. Whin I was a poor lost
orphan boy, worth nothin' to nobody, you risked life an' limb to drag me
back from the agony av a death by inches. And now, while I'm only a
rid-headed Irishman, I can do a dale more thinkin' and I know a blamed
lot more 'n this blessed little burg iver drames of. They ain't no
bloodhound on your track, but a ugly octopus of a devilfish is gittin'
its arms out after you. They's several av 'em. Don't forgit, Phil; I
know I'd die for your sake."

"O'mie, I believe you, but don't be uneasy about me. You know me as well
as anybody in this town. What have I to fear?"

"Begorra, there was niver a purer-hearted boy than you iver walked out
of a fun-lovin', rollickin' boyhood into a clane, honest manhood. You
can't be touched."

Just then the evening stage swung by and swept up the hill.

"Look at the ould man, now, would ye? Phil, he's makin' fur Bar'net's.
Bet some av your rich kin's comin' from the East, bringing you their
out-av-style clothes, an' a few good little books and Sunday-school
tracts to improve ye."

There was only one passenger in the stage, a woman whose face I could
not see.

That evening O'mie went to Judson at closing time.

"Mr. Judson, I want a lave of absence fur a week or tin days," he said.

"What for?" Judson was the kind of man who could never be pleasant to
his employees, for fear of losing his authority over them.

"I want to go out av town on business," O'mie replied.

"Whose business?"