"Hanlon? troth, it's little matther where he is, an' devil a one o' myself cares." "Well, but I care, Jemmy, for I want him. Where is he?" "He's gone up to that ould streele's, that lives in the cabin above there. I don't like the same Hanlon; nobody here knows anything about him, nor he won't let them know anything about him. He's as close as Darby Skinadre, and as deep as a dhraw-well.