So Corry lit a fresh cigar, and the three paraded the verandah till it was very late, engaging in all manner of pleasant conversation.  When the stumps were thrown away, the colonel invited the comrades to visit his rooms for a moment before retiring.  Entering his private sitting-room, he produced a quaintly-shaped but large glass bottle, which he flanked with three tumblers and a carafe of water.  “Help yohselves, gentlemen,” he said, courteously; “this old Bourbon is good foh countehacting the effects of the night aiah.  Some prefer Monongahela, but good old Bourbon in modehation cahn’t be suhpahssed.”  The pedestrians filled up, and bowed to their host as they drank, and the colonel, doing the same, said, “My thanks to yoh, gentlemen, foh yoah kindness to a styangah—­to yoah good health and ouah futhah pleasant acquaintance!” Then they severally retired, and the hotel closed for the night.

The next morning Coristine, whose room was just over the main entrance, was awakened by a loud discussion in the hall of the hotel.  “Clare out now,” cried the porter, “the bar’s not opind yit, an’ we don’t want naygurs round whin the guests do be comin’ down the stairs; clare, now, I tell yeez.”

“I’se heah, Mike, on bisness wif Cunnel Morting,” said a well-known voice; and continued, “yoh go and tell the cunnel that Mistah Maguffin is waitin’ foh to pay his respecs.”

“Go along wid yeez, Oi say, ye black scum av the airth, wid yer Cornel Mortins, the loikes av you!  Faix, Oi’ll tache yeez who’s yer betthers wid this broom-handle.”

“Gently, my good man, gently!” said the colonel, soothingly, as he laid his hand on Mike’s shoulder.  “This boy has business with me.  Come in heah, Maguffin.”

Tobias went in, with a triumphant glance at Mike, and, arrangements being completed, was soon at work, blacking his master’s boots.  Then he had a second breakfast at the servant’s table, after which the colonel sallied forth with him, to provide him with a befitting suit of clothes, and to inspect the horses he had deemed suitable for the use of his new employer and himself.  While they were gone, Wilkinson and his friend descended to a late breakfast, during which the hotel clerk handed the lawyer a telegram, signed Tylor, Woodruff, and White, and containing the words, “Look up Colonel Morton, Madame Du Plessis, 315 Bluebird Avenue, Parkdale.”  So the colonel had been corresponding with his firm, and he must either wait till that worthy returned, or leave a note for him.  “Bawderashin, anyway, when a man’s out for a holiday, can’t he be left alone a bit!” Then, turning to his friend, he asked, “And, are they troubling you with letters and telegrams, too, Wilks, my darling?” The dominie replied, “I have only one letter about a poor lady teacher, who is in consumption, I fear.  They want an extension of holidays for her, which is rather hard to get.”

“But you’ll get it for her, Wilks, my dear?”