"I wonder, now, is that a dog or only uts growl ter sind me back in the
wet fer luv av the laugh at me?" chirped a voice as hoarse as a buttery
brogue would allow it to be.
My clutch had brought Bart to himself instantly, and at the words he
turned the electric flashlight, that lodged under his pillow, full in
the direction of the sound, where it developed a strange picture and
printed it clearly on the opposite wall.
In the middle of the circle of light was a little barefoot man, in
trousers and shirt; a pair of sodden shoes lay at different angles where
they had been kicked off, probably making the sound that had wakened me,
and at the moment of the flash he was occupied in the wringing out of a
coat that seemed strangely long for the short frame upon which it had
hung. The face turned toward us was unmistakably Irish, comical even,
entirely unalarming, and with the expression, blended of terror and
doubt, that it now wore, he might have slipped from the pages of a
volume of Lever that lay face down on the table. The nose turned up at
the tip, as if asking questions of the eyes, that hid themselves between
the half-shut lids in order to avoid answering.
Pages:
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