second thought, and she makes up her mind not to get into bed, but to ask Mr. Fitzgerald if he will be good enough, when next he meets his Onher, the Mayor, just to say to him how Mr. Krone is bringing disgrace upon the house and every one in it, by letting rooms to negroes.  Here she commences pouring out her pent-up wrath upon the head of Mr. Krone, and the colored gentleman, whom she declares has a dozen white females in his room every night.  The detective encourages her by saying it is not right of Mr. Krone, who looks more at the color of his money than the skin of his tenants.  “To come of a dacint family-and be brought to this!” says Mrs. Murphy, allowing her passion to rise, and swearing to have revenge of the negro in the next room.

“You drink this gin, yet-I have warned you against it,” interposes the detective, pointing to some bottles on the bureau.  “Faith, an’ it’s the gin gets a many of us,” returns the woman, curtly, as she gathers about her the skirts of her garments.  “Onyhow, yerself wouldn’t deprive us of a drop now and then, jist to keep up the spirits.”  The detective shakes his head, then discloses to them the object of his search, adding, in parenthesis, that he does not think Mr. Toddleworth is the thief.  A dozen tongues are ready to confirm the detective’s belief.  “Not a shillin’ of it did the poor crature take-indeed he didn’t, now, Mr. Fitzgerald.  ’Onor’s ’onor, all over the wurld!” says Mrs. Murphy, grasping the detective by the hand.  “Stay till I tell ye all about it.  Mary Maguire-indeed an’ ye knows her, Mr. Fitzgerald-this same afternoon looked in to say—­’how do ye do, Mrs. Murphy.  See this!  Mrs. Murphy,’ says she, ‘an’ the divil a sich a pocket of money I’d see before, as she held in her right hand, jist.  ‘Long life to ye, Mary,’ says I.  ’We’ll have a pint, Mrs. Murphy,’ says she.  ‘May ye niver want the worth of it,’ says I. And the pint was not long in, when Mary got a little the worse of it, and let all out about the money.  ’You won’t whisper it, Mrs. Murphy,’ says she, ’if I’d tell ye in confidence by what manes I got the lift?’”

“‘Not in the wide world, Mary,’ says I; ’ye may trust me for that same.’  ’Shure didn’t I raise it from the pocket of an auld woman in spectacles, that watched the fool beyant dig up the corporation.’  ‘An’ it’ll not do yerself much good,’ says I, liftin’ the same, and cuttin’ away to the house.  ‘You won’t whisper it?’ says she.”

“I can confirm the truth of that same,” rejoins a brusque-figured man, rising from his pallet, and speaking with regained confidence.  “Mary looked in at the Blazers, and being the worse of liquor, showed a dale of ready money, and trated everybody, and gave the money to everybody, and was wilcome wid everybody.  Then Mrs. McCarty got aboard of her ginerosity, and got her into the Rookery, where the Miss McCartys thought it would not be amiss to have a quart.  The same was brought in, and Mary hersel’ was soon like a dead woman oh the floor, jist—­”