"Doubtless," said I, with an ill-suppressed sneer. "And by whom?
Cats?" I added, with a contemptuous shrug of my shoulders.
His answer overpowered me, it was so simple, direct, and unexpected.
"Shpooks," he replied, laconically.
I gasped in astonishment, and sat down. My knees simply collapsed under me, and I could no more have continued to stand up than fly.
"What?" I cried, as soon as I had recovered sufficiently to gasp out the word.
"Shpooks," replied Barney. "Ut came about like this, sorr. It was the Froiday two wakes afther you left, I became un'asy loike along about nine o'clock in the avenin', and I fought I'd come around here and see if everything was sthraight. Me wife sez ut's foolish of me, sorr, and I sez maybe so, but I can't get ut out o' me head thot somet'ing's wrong.
"'Ye locked everything up safe whin ye left?' sez she.
"'I always does,' sez I.
"'Thin ut's a phwhim,' sez she.
"'No,' sez I. 'Ut's a sinsation. If ut was a phwim, ut'd be youse as would hov' it'; that's what I sez, sevarely loike, sorr, and out I shtarts. It was tin o'clock whin I got here. The noight was dark and blow-in' loike March, rainin' and t'underin' till ye couldn't hear yourself t'ink.