on. Havin' onearthed this amazin' an' stupenjus fraud committed
by the man Dearsley, I hild a council av war; he thryin' all the time
to sejuce me into a fight wid opprobrious language. That sedan-chair
niver belonged by right to any foreman av coolies. 'Tis a king's chair
or a quane's. There's gold on ut an' silk an' all manner av
trapesemints. Bhoys, 'tis not for me to countenance any sort av
wrong-doin'--me bein' the ould man--but--anyway he has had ut nine
months, an' he dare not make throuble av ut was taken from him. Five
miles away, or ut may be six----'

There was a long pause, and the jackals howled merrily. Learoyd bared
one arm, and contemplated it in the moonlight. Then he nodded partly
to himself and partly to his friends. Ortheris wriggled with
suppressed emotion.

'I thought ye wud see the reasonableness av ut,' said Mulvaney. 'I
made bould to say as much to the man before. He was for a direct front
attack--fut, horse, an' guns--an' all for nothin', seem' that I had no
thransport to convey the machine away. "I will not argue wid you," sez
I, "this day, but subsequintly, Mister Dearsley, me rafflin' jool, we
talk ut out lengthways. 'Tis no good policy to swindle the naygur av
his hard-earned emolumints, an' by presint informashin'"--'twas the
kyart man that tould me--"ye've been perpethrating that same for nine
months. But I'm a just man," sez I, "an' overlookin' the presumpshin
that yondher settee wid the gilt top was not come by honust,"--at that
he turned sky-green, so I knew things was more thrue than
tellable--"not come by honust, I'm willin' to compound the felony for
this month's winnin's."'

'Ah! Ho!' from Learoyd and Ortheris.

'That man Dearsley's rushin' on his fate,' continued Mulvaney,
solemnly wagging his head. 'All Hell had no name bad enough for me
that tide. Faith, he called me a robber! Me! that was savin' him from
continuin' in his evil ways widout a remonstrince--an' to a man av
conscience a remonstrince may change the chune av his life. "'Tis not
for me to argue," sez I, "fwhatever ye are, Mister Dearsley, but, by
my hand, I'll take away the temptation for you that lies in that
sedan-chair."--"You will have to fight me for ut," sez he, "for well I
know you will never dare make report to any one."--"Fight I will," sez
I, "but not this day, for I'm rejuced for want av nourishment."--"Ye're
an ould bould hand," sez he, sizin' up me an' down; "an' a jool of a
fight we will have. Eat