Ranson solemnly handed him a glass and raised the other in the air.
"Here's hoping that the Red Rider rides on his raids no more," he
said; "and to the future Mrs. Ranson--to Mary Cahill, God bless her!"

He shattered the empty glass in the grate and took Cahill's hand.

"Father-in-law," said Ranson, "let's promise each other to lead a new
and a better life."






THE BAR SINISTER

PART I


The Master was walking most unsteady, his legs tripping each other.
After the fifth or sixth round, my legs often go the same way.

But even when the Master's legs bend and twist a bit, you mustn't
think he can't reach you. Indeed, that is the time he kicks most
frequent. So I kept behind him in the shadow, or ran in the middle of
the street. He stopped at many public-houses with swinging doors,
those doors that are cut so high from the sidewalk that you can look
in under them, and see if the Master is inside. At night when I peep
beneath them the man at the counter will see me first and say,