ng. "Of course ye can ask
anything ye please, but I'll tell ye right off I don't belong here.
Every blessed thing here belongs to me and my man John."

The passenger broke into a laugh. He had evidently found a rara avis,
and was enjoying the discovery to the full. American types always
interested him; this sample of Irish-New York was a revelation.

"Go on," smiled Kitty, "I'm waitin'."

"Well, take this order to No. 3 Gramercy Park, and they will give you my
two boxes, a shirt case, a roll of steamer-rugs, and some golf-sticks in
a leather pouch, five pieces in all. Get them down to the Cunard dock by
eleven, and my servant will be there to take charge of them. The steamer
sails at twelve. Is that clear?"

She reached for the paper and began checking off the number of
the apartment, number of pieces, dock, and hour. This was all that
interested her.

"It is--clear as mud--and they'll be on time. And now, who's to pay?"

"I am, and--" He stopped suddenly, staring in blank amazement at Felix,
who had just emerged from the side door and was stopping for a word
with one of John's drivers. "My God!" he muttered in a low voice, as if
talking to himself. "I can't be mistaken."

Felix nodded a good morning to Kitty and, with an alert, quick stride
crossed the sidewalk diagonally, and bent his steps toward Kling's.

The Englishman followed him with his gaze, his open pocketbook still in
his hands. "Is that gentleman a customer of yours?" Had he seen a dead
man suddenly come to life he could not have been more astounded.

"He is, and pays his rent like one."

"Rent? For what?" The customer seemed completely at sea.

"For my up-stairs room. He's my lodger and I never had a better."

The Englishman caught his breath. "Do you know who he is?" he asked
cautiously.

"Of course I do! Do you happen to know him?" John had moved up now and
stood listening.

"Not personally, but, unless I am very much mistaken, that is Sir Felix
O'Day."

"Ye ain't mistaken, you're dead right--all but the 'Sir.' That's
somethin' new to me. It's MR. Felix O'Day around here, and there ain't
a finer nor a better. What do ye know about him?" Her voice had softened
and a slight shade of anxiety had crept into it. John craned his head to
hear the better.

"Nothing to his discredit. He has had a lot of trouble--terrible
trouble--more than anybody I know. I heard he had gone to Australia. I
see now that he came to New York. Well, upon my soul,