"And I shall want your help, too."
"Yous may well count on that, for whin did a Fegan desart his frind? But
tell me, honey, what yous mane to do wid it."
"I intend to get to Cincinnati in it."
"Is it in the box?" exclaimed Pat, astonished beyond measure. "Sure you
will smodther!"
"But, my friend, I want you to look out for that, and give me something
to eat and drink. You can pretend that the box contains the body of your
captain, who, you said, died in Mexico."
"Arrah, me darlint, I see it all!" and Pat shook his sides with laughter
at the idea of the mulatto's "travelling-carriage," as he styled it.
Pat had procured the box, and conveyed it to Hatchie's asylum. It was
sufficiently large to furnish quite a roomy apartment. The covering
consisted of short boards, matched, and screwed on crossways. To
facilitate the introduction of food and air, and to afford the means of
a speedy exit in case of need, he had taken off half these boards, and
fastened them together with cleats on the inner side. The ends of the
screws were then filed off, so that this portion of the lid exactly
corresponded with the other portion.
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