I explained to Dutchy that we would have a little fun with the Irishman, and told him to wait for instructions from me before he attempted to play his part.
I then took the pants down to the office, and let the Doctor into the secret.
The next Saturday the Irishman came rushing down stairs in great excitement, and reported the loss of his pants. I said:
"Well, Irish, if you don't find them, I'll go with you to pick out another pair."
"But, be the Howly Moses! will yez pay for thim?"
I told him I'd see that he paid for them. He threatened to leave, but the Doctor helped to quiet him down.
I then found Dutchy and told him to try and call at the Irishman's room the next day when he was in, and manage in some way to raise his dress, so that the Irishman would get a glimpse of his pants. He assured me he would fix that all right.
On Sunday morning, about ten o'clock, Irish came rushing down stairs on the jump, rushed up to me, and said:
"Be the Howly St. Crispin and Moses in the bulrushes! May the divil fly away wid me if I haven't found moy pants!"