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Wherever they moved the dead and wounded tumbled before them, until, fatigued by the frightful heat of the weather, they were, from time to time, constrained to pause in their dreadful work. The engagement had continued for about an hour, when the brave Lieut. Lonergan bit the dust, while a cheer for Ireland struggled through the death rattle in his throat.
"But I am indeed curious about this friend of Ratty M'Gill's. And now I'll tell Silent Sam that there is a man lurking about the Bar-T who must be watched." She said nothing to Captain Rugley about sending for Lonergan until she had written. The doctor said it would be just as well not to discuss the matter much until it was accomplished.
I knew you folks lived out this way somewhere, but I've not seen you since you were a little shaver. "But I'll never forget how my little half-sister used to look, and you are just like her when she was young," declared Mr. Lonergan. "Come in here, you young rascal, and let me get a closer look at you." "My Uncle Jonas?" gasped Pratt, in amazement. "That's what I am!" declared Mr. Lonergan.
"And what do you think of our Frances?" demanded Mrs. Bill Edwards, proudly. "There's nobody in Boston's Back Bay, even, who could do better than she?" And Sue Latrop was for the time being, at least completely silenced. There had been a delay on the railroad caused by a washout; therefore Jonas Lonergan and Mr.
"Heh?" exclaimed Lonergan. He turned short around and stared at the blushing Frances. "She's a mighty fine girl, I reckon?" "The best in the Panhandle," declared the old ranchman, nodding understandingly. "And this boy of my sister's is a pretty good fellow, Dan?" asked Lonergan. "Mighty fine mighty fine," admitted Captain Dan Rugley.
"Is he sure the man who was killed on the railroad when he went home from here was a man named Pete Marin, who once was orderly at the soldiers' home?" "Yes," said Frances, gravely. "He was walking the track, they thought. Either he was intoxicated or he did not hear the train. Poor fellow!" "Blamed rascal!" ejaculated Jonas P. Lonergan. "He made us some trouble but it's over," said Pratt.
When he was about fourteen, the Famine Year came; fever and "The Hunger" swept Clare. The fever took Lonergan and his wife, and they were buried in the dead-pit at Liscannor; it left Andy, but it left him blind. Then the neighbours began to have their doubts whether he was a Changeling after all; for the Fairies are faithful, and who ever heard of a Changeling being left blind and penniless?
She sat down that very hour and wrote to the Reverend Decimus Tooley, explaining why she, instead of Captain Rugley, wrote, and requesting that Jonas Lonergan be made ready for the trip from Bylittle to Jackleg, in the Panhandle, where a carriage from the Bar-T Ranch would meet him.
Towards the close of that year, Bridge, one of the late witnesses against him, suddenly disappeared. A charge of murder was then laid against the priest of Clogheen, and a prostitute named Dunlea, a vagrant lad named Lonergan, and a convicted horse stealer called Toohey, were produced in evidence against him, after he had lain nearly a year in prison, heavily fettered.
Old Jonas P. Lonergan, his crutch beside him, is lying comfortably in another lounging chair. But he already looks much more vigorous. Captain Dan Rugley, as ever, is tipped back against the wall in his favorite position. Frances is with her sewing at a low table, while Pratt is lying on the rug at his mother's feet. "What's that Mr. Tooley said in his letter, Frances?" asked Pratt.
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