UNPLEASANT QUARTERS.
Donovan's red face turned fairly purple with rage.
"Well, I'll be blowed!" he said, adding an oath or two. "You're a bold
little pup! You dare to insult me! Why, I could crush you with my little
finger."
"I have not insulted you," said Dan. "I have only come for my sister."
"I don't know anything about your sister. So you can go about your
business."
"That little girl is my adopted sister," said Dan, pointing to Althea.
"Ask her if she doesn't know me."
"That is my daughter, Katy Donovan," said the saloon keeper.
"No, I am not," said Althea, beginning to cry. "I want to go away with
my brother Dan."
"Shut up, you little jade!" said Donovan, roughly. "Mrs. Donovan," (by
this time she was on her feet, looking on in a dazed sort of way), "is
not this our little Katy?"
"Shure it is," she answered.
"You see, young man, you're mistaken. You can leave," and Donovan waved
his hand triumphantly.
"That's too thin, Mrs. Donovan!" said Dan, provoked. "That don't go
down. I can bring plenty of proof that Althea was until a week since
living with my mother."
"That for your proof!" said Donovan, contemptuously snapping his
fingers.
"I know who stole her, and who brought her to this house," continued
Dan.
Donovan started. The boy knew more than he had expected.
"The same man has been here to-day," added Dan.
"You lie!" retorted Donovan, but he looked uneasy.
"You know that I tell the truth. How much does he pay you for taking
care of the girl?"
"Enough of this!" roared the saloon keeper. "I can't waste my time
talkin' wid you. Will you clear out now?"
"No, I won't, unless Althea goes with me," said Dan, firmly.
"You won't, then! We'll see about that," and Donovan, making a rush,
seized Dan in his arms, and carried him down stairs, despite our hero's
resistance.
"I'll tache you to come here insultin' your betters!" he exclaimed.
Dan struggled to get away, but though a strong boy, he was not a match
for a powerful man, and could not effect his deliverance. The Irishman
already referred to was still upon the settee.
"What's up, Donovan?" he asked, as the saloon-keeper appeared with his
burden. "What's the lad been doin'?"
"What's he been doin', is it? He's been insultin' me to my face--that's
what the Donovans won't stand. Open the trap-door, Barney."
"What for?"
"Don't trouble me wid your questions, but do as I tell you. You shall
know afterward."
Not quite willingly, but reluctant to offend Donovan, who gave him
credit for the drinks, Barney raised a trap-door leading to the cellar
below.
There was a ladder for the convenience of those wishing to ascend and
descend, but Donovan was not disposed to use much ceremony with the boy
who had offended him. He dropped him through the opening, Dan by good
luck falling on his feet.
"That's the best place for you, you young meddler!" he said. "You'll
find it mighty comfortable, and I wish you much joy. I won't charge you
no rint, and that's an object in these hard times--eh, Barney?"
"To be sure it is," said Barney; "but all the same, Donovan, I'd rather
pay rint up stairs, if I had my choice!"
"He hasn't the choice," said Donovan triumphantly. "Good-by to you!" and
he let the trap fall.
"What's it all about now, Donovan?" asked Barney.
"He wanted to shtale my Katy," said Donovan.
"What, right before your face?" asked Barney, puzzled.
"Yes, shure! What'll you take to drink?" asked Donovan, not caring to go
into particulars.
Barney indicated his choice with alacrity, and, after drinking, was
hardly in a condition to pursue his inquiries.