y's own.

'I was told by the college woman how I was to summon you, Mr. Donogan,'
said Kearney good-naturedly. 'You are not offended with the liberty?'

'Are you Dick?' asked the other, coming forward.

'Yes. I think most of my friends know me by that name.'

'And the old devil has told you mine?' asked he quickly.

'No, I believe I discovered that for myself. I tumbled over some of your
things last night, and saw a letter addressed to you.'

'You didn't read it?'

'Certainly not. It fell out of your pocket-book, and I put it back there.'

'So the old hag didn't blab on me? I'm anxious about this, because it's got
out somehow that I'm back again. I landed at Kenmare in a fishing-boat from
the New York packet, the _Osprey_, on Tuesday fortnight, and three of the
newspapers had it before I was a week on shore.'

'Our breakfast is getting cold; sit down here and let me help you. Will you
begin with a rasher?'

Not replying to the invitation, Donogan covered his plate with bacon, and
leaning his arm on the table, stared fixedly at Kearney.

'I'm as glad as fifty pounds of it,' muttered he slowly to himself.

'Glad of what?'

'Glad that you're not a swell, Mr. Kearney,' said he gravely. '"The
Honourable Richard Kearney," whenever I repeated that to myself, it gave me
a cold sweat. I thought of velvet collars and a cravat with a grand pin in
it, and a stuck-up creature behind both, that wouldn't condescend to sit
down with me.'

'I'm sure Joe Atlee gave you no such impression of me.'

A short grunt that might mean anything was all the reply.

'He was my chum, and knew me better,' reiterated the other.

'He knows many a thing he doesn't say, and he says plenty that he doesn't
know. "Kearney will be a swell," said I, "and he'll turn upon me just out
of contempt for my condition.'"

'That was judging me hardly, Mr. Donogan.'

'No, it wasn't; it's the treatment the mangy dogs meet all the world over.
Why is England insolent to us, but because we're poor--answer me that? Are
we mangy? Don't you feel mangy?--I know _I_ do!'

Dick smiled a sort of mild contradiction, but said nothing.

'Now that I see you, Mr. Kearney,' said the other, 'I'm as glad as a
ten-pound note about a letter I wrote you--'

'I never received a letter from you.'

'Sure I know you didn't! haven't I got it here?' And he drew forth a
square-shaped packet and held it up before him. 'I never said that I sent
it, nor I won't send it now: