Cinder Path Tales

98 CINDER-PATH TALES bowled him over, Itold him either to tell me at once what the trouble was, or I would open the door and throw him out. This lastthreat wasenough, andhe raised himself tothe perpendicular again, lifting his hands witha gesture, half resistance and half petition, saying in an appealing fashion, " Sure, you'd not hev the black heart to do it; an' 'tis God's truth I'll tell." He told his story as follows in a hoarse whisper, growing a little louder toward the end of the tale: " 'Tis guilty avnothin' Iam at all; 'twas walkin' home Iwas, all innocent an' aisyloike, afther abit av apicnic at Larry Costigan's, the same thot lives forninst the junk-shop by the river. I lift the sthreet, tuk a cut acroost the tennis-courts to save me toime (fer late it was, an' Mrs. Dooley, me boardin' misthress, locks the dure at 12), an' was a-follerin'the track along the stritch,whin on the suddint I heard futstips behindt, an' whin I turned me head I saw (howly hivin guard her own) a big, whitespook a-follerin' in me track." At thisPaddy went back to his crooning and crossing again, and I was obliged to administer another blow, and take a step toward the door, with a significant glance at the lock,to bring himback to a state of rela­ tive sanity. He gathered his senses together,