"Maybe for robbing a church, or stalin' a purse, or worse, ye thafe o' the wurrld!"
"Do you know why there are no thieves in your country, Pat?"
"Faith it's becase ye're not there, Mister Wallace."
"No! it's because there's nothing to steal."
"Well!" said Pat, "I'll tell yees what the super wants yees for."
"What?"
"To go afther the biggest thafe of the wurrld. Set a thafe to catch a thafe. There's a glimmer o' sinse in the ould boy."
I hadn't an answer ready at the moment. I knew I was no match for Pat with the tongue, for his wit flashed out like summer lightning, and cut like a Damascus blade. I did not wait for anything further, but knocked at the superintendent's door and went in.
He took me by storm at once with his hook nose and eagle eyes, and expected me to quake in my shoes and turn white; but I raked him across the bows with my two black eyeballs, and he was glad to pull down his sky-scrapers pretty quick.