thraitise
rilitiv' to the Aydipodayan Ipopaya."

"What's that?" I asked. "The what?--"

"The Aydipodayan Ipopaya," said O'Halloran.

"The Aydipodayan Ipopaya?" I repeated, in a misty, foggy, and utterly
woe-be-gone manner.

"Tis," said he, "an' I'd like to have your opinion about that same,"
saying which, he once more filled his oft-replenished tumbler.

It was too much. The conversation was getting beyond my depth. I had
followed him in a vague and misty way thus far, but this Aydipodayan
Ipopaya was an obstacle which I could not in any way surmount. I halted
short, full in front of that insurmountable obstacle. So far from
surmounting it, I couldn't even pretend to have the smallest idea what
it was. I could not get over it, and therefore began to think of a
general retreat.

I rose to my feet.

"Ye're not going yit?" he said.

"Yes, but I am," said I.

"Why, sure it's airly enough," said he.

"Yes," said I, "it's early enough, but it's early the wrong way. It's
now," said I, taking out my watch, "just twenty minutes of four. I must
be off--really."

"Well," said O'Halloran, "I'm sorry ye're going, but you know best what
you must do."

"And I'm sorrier," said I, "for I've spent a most delightful evening."

"Sure an' I'm glad to hear ye say that. And ye'll come again, won't
ye?"

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure."

"Come to-morrow night thin," said he.

"I shall be only too happy," said I; and with these words I took my
departure.

I went home, and went to bed at once. But I lay awake, a prey to many
thoughts. Those thoughts did not refer to O'Halloran, or to his
Aydipodayan Ipopaya. On the contrary, they referred altogether to the
ladies, and to the manner in which they had heard my narrative.

What was the meaning of that?

And my speculations on this passed on even into my dreams, and thus
carried me away into

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE FOLLOWING MORNING.--APPEARANCE OF JACK RANDOLPH.--A NEW
COMPLICATION.--THE THREE ORANGES.--DESPERATE EFFORTS Of THE JUGGLER.
--HOW TO MAKE FULL, AMPLE, COMPLETE, AND MOST SATISFACTORY
EXPLANATIONS.--MISS PHILLIPS!--THE WIDOW!!--NUMBER THREE!!!--LOUIE
RAPIDLY RISING INTO GREATER PROMINENCE ON THE MENTAL AND SENTIMENTAL
HORIZON OF JACK RANDOLPH.

"Well, old chap," cried Jack, as he burst into my room on the following
morning, "what the mischief were you doing with yourself all last
night? Come, out with it. No humbug. I was here at twelve, li