“‘What?’ says I. And then:  ‘What?’

“‘O’Shaughnessy.  Michael O’Shaughnessy.  I—­’

“‘Hold on!’ I sung out.  ‘For the land sakes, hold on!  What’s your name?’

“He bristled up like a cat.

“‘Michael O’Shaughnessy,’ he roars, like the bull of Bashan.  ’D’yez find any fault with it?  ’Twas me father’s before me—­Michael Patrick O’Shaughnessy, of County Sligo.  I’ll have yez know—­what’s that?’

“’Twas a scream from the libr’ry.  Next thing I knew, Margaret, the nurse girl, was standin’ in the hall, white as a Sunday shirt, and swingin’ back and forth like a wild-carrot stalk in a gale.

“‘Mike!’ says she, kind of low and faint.  ‘Mary be good to us!  Mike!’

“And the big chap dropped his tall hat on the floor and turned as white as she was.

“‘Maggie!’ he hollers.  And then they closed in on one another.

“Sim and the priest and Archie had followed the girl into the hall.  Me and Phinney was too flabbergasted to do anything, but big Father McGrath was cool as an ice box.  When Archibald, like the little imp he was, sets up a whoop and dives for them two, the priest grabs him by the rope of the blanket nighty and swings him into the libr’ry, and shuts the door on him.

“‘And now,’ says he, takin’ Sim and me by the arms and leadin’ us to the parlor, ‘we’ll just step in here and wait a bit.’

“We waited, maybe, ten minutes.  Archibald, dear, shut up in the libr’ry, was howlin’ blue murder, but nobody paid any attention to him.  Then there was a knock on the door between us and the hall, and Father McGrath opened it.  There they was, the two of ’em—­Mike and Maggie—­lookin’ red and foolish—­but happy, don’t talk!

“‘You see, sor,’ says the O’Shaughnessy man to me, ’’twas the five-thousand-dollar prize that done it.  I’d been workin’ at me trade, sor—­larnin’ to tind bar it was—­and I’d just got a new job where the pay was pretty good, and I’d sint over for Maggie, and was plannin’ for the little flat we was to have, and the like of that, when I drew that prize.  And the joy of it was like handin’ me a jolt on the jaw.  It put me out for two weeks, sor, and when I come to I was in Baltimore, where I’d gone to collect the money; and two thousand of the five was gone, and I knew me job in New York was gone, and I was that shamed and sick it took me three days more to make up me mind to come to me Cousin Tim’s, where I knew Maggie’d be waitin’ for me.  And when I did come back she was gone, too.’

“‘And then,’ says Father McGrath, sharp, ’I suppose you went on another spree, and spent the rest of the money.’

“‘I did not, sor—­axin’ your pardon for contradictin’ your riverence.  I signed the pledge, and I’ll keep it, with Maggie to help me.  I put me three thousand into a partnership with me friend Dempsey, who was runnin’ the Golconda House—­’tis over on the East Side, with a fine bar trade—­and I’m doin’ well, barrin’ that I’ve been crazy for this poor girl, and advertisin’ and—­’