“‘The saints in glory be among us! Is it a lunytic ye think I am to take ye where ye can git help and have me arrested by openin’ your mouth but wanct?’
“‘Well,’ says he, excusin’ himsilf, ‘thin what?’
“‘Twinty years,’ says I, ‘and lucky at that.’
“‘I mean,’ says he, ‘what are we goin’ to do, thin?’
“‘“We”?’ says I, fair losin’ me timper, ‘“we”? Arrah, and whose doin’ this kidnappin’, annyways? Ye’ll be collectin’ money off me next for takin’ me home! Ain’t ye niver been kidnapped afore?’
“‘No,’ says he, ‘this is the first time.’
“‘Yis,’ I says, ‘and it was gittin’ dark whin I took ye.’
“‘Well,’ says he, peaceable and irritatin’, ‘what are we goin’ to do?’
“‘We’re goin’ to drown ye, if ye ask me that ag’in!’ I says, bein’ beyont mesilf entirely. And thin all to wanct it come to me I might be tryin’ the trolley after all, and tellin’ the people he was a crazy man I was takin’ home, if he begun talkin’. Sure, wan look at him would convince thim he’d been a lunytic afore he was took so bad. And this way I could be takin’ him to me own place on the East Side instid of to the warehouse near O’Hara. It was a fool plan, but most plans is fool wans, and what ilse could I be doin’ with him?
“‘I’d been considerin’ the trolley mesilf,’ I says, ‘and I’m thinkin’ we’ll take it and go over on the 130th Street ferry, but if ye make wan peep to annywan, it’s me will kill ye on the spot. Do ye mind that!’ I says to him, ferocious.