There'll be no more bother this toime. Besides, it's a paceful
house Oi'm runnin', an' Oi know ye'r way of sittling them things. It's
too strenurous ye are, Misther Hampton. And what did ye do wid the
young lady, Oi make bould to ask?"
Hampton carelessly waved his hand toward the rear room, the door of
which stood ajar, and blew a thick cloud of smoke into the air, his
eyes continuing to gaze dreamily through the open window toward the
distant hills.
"Who's running the game over at the Occidental?" he asked,
professionally.
"Red Slavin, bad cess to him!" and her eyes regarded her questioner
with renewed anxiety. "But sure now, Bob, ye mustn't think of playin'
yit awhoile. Yer narves are in no fit shape, an' won't be fer a wake
yit."
He made no direct reply, and she hung about, flapping the dust-rag
uneasily.
"An' what did ye mane ter be doin' wid the young gyurl?" she questioned
at last, in womanly curiosity.
Hampton wheeled about on the hard chair, and regarded her quizzingly.
"Mrs. Guffy," he said, slowly, "you've been a mother to me, and it
would certainly be unkind not to give you a straight tip.
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