“Dear knows—fifty things—maybe to stand for one of his childhre—or—but, ah! forgive me—I could be merry anywhere else; but here—here—forgive me, Mrs. Dalton.”
In a short time Dalton and he mounted a car which Toddy had brought with him, and started for the office of Mr. Travers.
While they are on their way, we shall return to our friend, young Dick, who was left to trudge home from the Grey Stone on the night set apart for the abduction of Mave Sullivan. Hanlon, or Magennis, as we ought now to call him, having by his shrewdness, and Rody Duncan's loose manner of talking, succeeded in preventing the burglarious attack upon his master's house, was a good deal surprised at young Dick's quick return, for he had not expected him at all that night. The appearance of the young gentleman was calculated to excite impressions of rather a serio-comic character.
“Hanlon,” said he, “is all right?—every man at his post?”
“All right, sir; but I did not expect you back so soon. Whatever you've been engaged on to-night is a saicret you've kep' me out of.”
“D—e, I was afraid of you, Hanlon—you were too honest for what I was about to-night. You wouldn't have stood it—I probed you on it once before, and you winced.”
“Well, sir, I assure you I don't wish to know what it is.”
“Why, as the whole thing has failed there, can be no great secret in it now. The old Prophet hoaxed me cursedly to-night. It was arranged between us that he should carry off Sullivan's handsome daughter for me—and what does the mercenary old scoundrel do but put his own in her place, with a view of imposing her on me.”
“Faith, an' of the two she is thought to be the finest an' handsomest girl; but, my God! how could he do what you say, an' his daughter sick o' the typhus?”
“There's some d—d puzzle about it, I grant—he seemed puzzled—his daughter-seemed sick, sure enough—and I am sick. Hanlon, I fear I've caught the typhus from her—I can think of nothing else.”