"Whinivir it shoots you, and wherivir. I'm afraid it'll take you out of your wee. We'll have to go off about twinty moiles. There's a moighty convaynient place there, I'm sorry it's not nayrer, but it can't be helped. I've had three or fower maytings there mesilf this last year. You'll be deloighted with it whin you once get there. There's good whiskey there too. The best in the country. We'll go there."
"And when?"
"Well, well—the seconds may areenge about that. How'll nixt Monday do?"
"Delightfully, if it suits you."
"Oh, I'll be shooted at any toime."
"What shall we meet with?" I asked.
"Sure that's for you to decoide."
"Pistols," I suggested.
O'Halloran nodded.
"I really have no preference. I'll leave it to you if you like," said
I.