"The bullet grazed my husband's head, and knocked him senseless. When he recovered he found that Ryan had escaped—nobody knows how, and a sergeant of the Royal Irish Constabulary told him that the police were in hot pursuit. He heard shots fired in the distance, and that made him frightened for his father. He rushed out of the room, and half-way up the staircase found the old may lying dead. The shock had killed him."
"Lady," I said, "if I were the boss, I'd shoot up that Ryan man into small scraps."
"Billy, you've got to save my husband from being a murderer."
"Ryan," said I, "ain't eligible for the grave until he meets up with Balshannon's gun."
"Promise me to save my husband from this crime."
"But I cayn't promise to shoot up this Ryan myself. He's Balshannon's meat, not mine."
"You must dissuade my husband."
"I'll dissuade none between a man and his kill."
"Oh, what shall I do!" she cried.
"Is your son safe," I asked, "while Ryan lives?"