"What proofs have you?"

"Proofs! Will you deny it?"

"No. It's quite true."

"I knew it."

"But I'm a reformed character, now, Mr. McEachern. I have money of my
own. It was left me. I hear you had money left you, too."

"I did," said McEachern shortly.

"Congratulate you. I'm glad I know, because otherwise I might have
formed quite a wrong impression when I came here and found you with
money to burn. Quite the old English squire now, Mr. McEachern, what?"

"Ye'll lave the house to-morrow."

"All the more reason why we should make the most of this opportunity
of talking over old times. Did you mind leaving the force?"

"And ye'll take that blackguard Mullins wid ye."

"Judging from the stories one hears, it must be a jolly sort of life.
What a pity so many of them go in for graft. I could tell you some
stories about a policeman I used to know in New York. He was the
champion grafter. I remember hearing one yarn from a newspaper man out
there. This reporter chap happened to hear of the grumblings of some