He got a strong piece of twine, tied one end to the offending molar, and the other to the rail of the last car of the Washington express.
Soon the train started.
The twine held and so did the tooth.
You never saw any one run to beat that fool Irishman. He had Duffy beaten to death.
Finally after he had run a two-mile straight-away, the cord snapped, but the tooth stayed in. Pat came back.
"Be jabbers," says he, "the dum thing fooled me that time, but I'll get even. I'll go to a dentist."
I got on my train and took a seat in the forward car.
Just opposite, a very stylish, rather beautiful lady sat next to a clerical-looking chap.