nes. "I fell
down on my exams . . . ran amuck with the wrong bunch an' all
that--an'--an' . . . kind of made a mess of things I guess. . . . Went
broke--came West. . . . That's why. . . ."

With a forlorn sort of forced grin he gazed back at his interlocutor.
Yorke, unheeding the conversation, continued his breakfast as if he were
alone.

"H-mm!" grunted Slavin, summing up the situation with native simplicity,
"That's ut, eh?--but, for all ye have th' spache an' manners av a
ginthleman--ranker somehow--somehow I misdoubt ye're a way-back waster
like Misther Yorkey here!"

That hardened "ginthleman," absently sipping his coffee, flung a
faintly-derisive, patient smile at his accuser. A perfect understanding
seemed to exist between the two men. Redmond, musing upon the
pathetically-sordid drama he had witnessed not so many hours since,
relapsed into a reverie of speculation.

The silence was suddenly broken by the sharp trill of the telephone.
Slavin arose lethargically from the mess-table and answered it.

"Hullo! yis! Slavin shpeakin'! Fwat?--all right Nick! I'll sind a man
shortly an' vag um! So long! Oh, hold on, Nick! . . . May th' divil
niver know ye're dead till ye're tu hours in Hivin! Fwhat?--Oh, thank
yez! Same tu yez! Well! . . . so long!"

"Hobo worryin' Nick Lee at Cow Run. Scared av fire in th'
livery-shtable. Go yu', Yorkey!" He eyed George a moment in curious
speculation. "Yu' had betther go along tu, Ridmond! Exercise yez harse
an'"--he lit his pipe noisily--"learn th' lay av th' thrails." He turned
to the senior constable. "If ye can lay hould av th' J.P. there, get
this shtiff committed an' let Ridmond take thrain wid um tu th' Post.
Yu' return wid th' harses!"

"Why can't Redmond nip down there on a way-freight and do the whole
thing?" said Yorke, a trifle sulkily. "It seems rot sending two men
mounted for one blooming hobo."

"Eyah!" murmured Slavin with suspicious mildness, "'tis th' long toime
since I have used me shtripes tu give men undher me wan ordher twice."

Yorke flashed a slightly apprehensive glance at his superior's face.
Then, without another word, he reached for his side-arms, bridle, and
fur-coat. He knew his man.

Redmond followed suit and they adjourned to the stable.

"I saw that beggar yesterday--on my way up," remarked George,
ill-advisedly.

Yorke stared. "The hell you did! . . . why didn't you vag him then?" he
retorted irritably.

Burst