est Ninety-third Street, in the City of
New York, and that on the 15th day of May, 1896, he was in
the employ of the Cavendish Tool Company._"

"Thrue for you, Sorr--an' bad cess ter thim," commented Clancy.

"_That previous to May 15, 1896, he had been in the employ
of said Company for nine years_----"

"'Twas not so long, Sorr, for whin me sisther-in-law Theresa's sicond
child, she thot aftherwards married Bicie Sullivan's lad, wuz sick at
th' toime av me wife's brother's wake, Oi stayed from wurrk two days fur
ter luk ter th' child an' so----"

"O, well--that's near enough--say nine years," I interrupted.

"Oi'll say whativer you want, Sorr--but, be th' same token, 'tis thruth
Oi do be tellin' you now--betwane oursilves loike."

I looked sternly at Clancy's rotund countenance. This case was looming
up pregnant with possibilities in the presence of a witness with
ready-made testimony and confidential truths. Clancy as a character was
all right, but, as a client? I began to be alarmed. This had to be
stopped.

"Now, understand once and for all, Clancy," I exclaimed almost
threateningly, "I don't want you to tell anything at any time except the
truth."

Clancy relapsed again.

"'Tis for you ter know, Sorr," was all he said.

I looked at the man with desperation in my eyes.

"Now, Michael, listen to me. If there's anything really wrong in the
affidavit, stop me; but, if it's unimportant, don't let's waste time on
it. Now, where were we? Here it is:--'_had been in the employ of said
Company for nine years_----'"

"Av coorse, thot's moindin' what Oi do be afther tellin' you, Sorr."

"Good lord, man! For _nearly_ nine years then. Will that satisfy you?
We'll never finish if you keep this up!"

"'Tis dumb Oi am, Sorr."

Clancy's big hands waved off further reproaches in a little gesture half
soothing, half disclaiming.

Then all intelligence faded from his face, and he sat with closed eyes,
punctuating my sentences with nodding head, as I continued from the text
of the affidavit.

"_During those nine years_" (Clancy winced, but kept
silent), "_he was engaged as a porter in the Company's main
office, in Fulton Street. On the morning of May 15, 1896,
while engaged in sorting merchandise on the fourth floor of
said building, a shelf on the north side of the room gave
way, and a keg of nails fell upon his spine, inflicting
serious injuries_.

"_