A man must live, and there's that purty lass with the
Irish eyes! Man alive, but it goes to me heart to luk at her."
"Well, I think I must have a 'luk' at her then," was Burlingame's half
satirical remark.
Not long after Patsy Kernaghan had left Burlingame's office, the Young
Doctor came. His business was brief, and he was about to leave when
Burlingame said:
"The Mazarines out at Tralee-you know them? They came while I was away.
Queer old goat, isn't he?"
"His exact place in natural history I'm not able to select," answered the
Young Doctor dryly, "but I know him."
"And his wife--you know her?" asked Burlingame casually.
The other nodded. "Yes-in a professional way."
"Has she been sick?"
"She is ill now."
"What's the matter?"
"What's the truth about that McMahon claim-jumper who was acquitted this
morning?" asked the Young Doctor with a quizzical eye and an acid note to
his voice. "You've got your verdict, but you know the real truth, and you
mustn't and won't tell it. Well?"
Burlingame saw. "Well, I'll have to ask the old goat myself," he said.
"He's coming here to-day." He took up Orlando Guise's letter from the
table, glanced at it smilingly, and threw it down again. "He must be a
queer specimen," Burlingame continued. "He wouldn't take Orlando Guise's
cheque yesterday. He says he'll only be paid in hard cash. He's coming
here this afternoon to get it.
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