“‘Divil a bit,’ I says. ‘Thin what are ye if ye ain’t?’ I asks him.
“‘I might ask ye, after your own manner of sayin’ things, Which am I if I ain’t what?’ says he, all to wanct talkin’ like a man who knew his ways about. ‘But I’ll be tellin’ ye wan thing I ain’t, and that’s crazy.’
“It was like hearin’ a baby all to wanct begin talkin’ like a old man. Nothin’ could ’a’ surprised me like him showin’ they was brains in him. I knowed immediate it was no lunytic he was after bein’. ‘Thin what are ye?’ I says, weak-like.
“‘Ah, me frind,’ says he, ‘who’s doin’ this kidnappin’—you or me? Come on, now; thim cars runs half a hour apart.’
“Arrah, the anger rose in me at the owdaciousness of him, and I took me oath to git him to the East Side even if he become twins. But, bein’ a thinkin’ man, the unsettlement of me mind was ten times worse over him showin’ signs of brains in him. If he could grow thim manny brains in half a hour, they was no tellin’ how much sinse he might have by mornin’. ‘But sure,’ thinks I, ‘thin he’s worth more than what I priced him, for they may be some wan can be usin’ him for something.’
“‘I’ll make it eight thousand, sor,’ I says to him.
“‘Thank ye, me good man,’ says he, resumin’ his old way of talkin’. ‘Hurry up! I hear a car comin’.’
“Thin we run for it, and the suspinders jerkin’ out of me hands, the little spalpeen showed me the heels of him, me cursin’ after him amazin’. All to wanct me foot caught in a root, and down I wint, fair knockin’ me daffy. By the time I’d begun seein’ straight ag’in, he was wavin’ his arms in the middle of the track, with the head-light shinin’ on him and the car comin’ to a stop.
“I seen at wanct that, even could I hold the car by yellin’, he would have time to tell thim all his troubles, and like as not they’d beat me life out afore I could tell thim about him bein’ crazy, and they wouldn’t believe it annyways. It was gone he was and good riddance.