Do not come out until dark, and ask at my
brother's den for CAL."
"I will not be in to-night, Mike," exclaimed Duff Salter a little while
afterward. "You can have all the evening to yourself. Where do you spend
your spare time?"
"On Traity Island," replied Mike with a grin. "I doesn't like Kinsington
afther dark. They say it has ghosts, sur."
"But only the ghosts of they killed as they crossed from Treaty Island."
"Sure enough! But I've lost belafe in ghosts since they have become so
common. Everybody belaves in thim in Kinsington, and I prefer to be
exclusive and sciptical, yer honor."
"Didn't you tell me yesterday that you believed in spirits going and
coming and hoping and waiting, and it gave you great comfort?"
"Did I, sur? I forgit it inthirely. It must have been a bad day for my
vartigo."
Duff Salter looked at his man long and earnestly, and from head to foot,
and the inspection appeared to please him.
"Mike," he said, in his loud, deafish voice, "I am going to cure you of
your vertigo."
"Whin, dear Mister Salter."
"Perhaps to-morrow," remarked Duff Salter significantly. "I shall have a
man here who will either confer it on you permanently or cure you
instantly.
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