“'No, sir,' says she, puzzled. 'No, sir, thank you, sir.'
“'She's tired out, that's all,' says I. I swan, I pitied the poor thing. 'You go somewheres and take a nap,' I told her. 'Me and my friend won't tell.'
“Oh, no, she couldn't do that. It wa'n't that she was tired—no more tired than usual—but she'd been that troubled in her mind lately, askin' our pardon, that she was near to crazy.
“We was sorry for that, but it didn't seem to be none of our business, and she was turnin' away, when all at once she stops and turns back again.
“'Might I ask you gintlemen a question?' she says, sort of pleadin'. 'Sure I mane no harm by it. Do aither of you know a man be the name of Michael O'Shaughnessy?'
“Me and Sim looked at each other. 'Which?' says I. 'Mike O' who?' says Simeon.
“'Aw, don't you know him?' she begs. 'DON'T you know him? Sure I hoped you might. If you'd only tell me where he is I'd git on me knees and pray for you. O Mike, Mike! why did you leave me like this? What'll become of me?'
“And she walks off down the hall, coverin' her face with her hands and cryin' as if her heart was broke.
“'There! there!' says Simeon, runnin' after her, all shook up. He's a kind-hearted man—especially to nice-lookin' females. 'Don't act so,' he says. 'Be a good girl. Come right back into the settin' room and tell me all about it. Me and Cap'n Baker ain't got nerves, and we ain't rich, neither. You can talk to us. Come, come!'
“She didn't know how to act, seemingly. She was like a dog that's been kicked so often he's suspicious of a pat on the head. And she was cryin' and sobbin' so, and askin' our pardon for doin' it, that it took a good while to get at the real yarn. But we did get it, after a spell.