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But most of all he wanted to vindicate himself in the eyes of the once-hated law.

He wanted to clear his record of the unjust charge of murder which had sent him

scurrying out of Chicago over a year before, that night that Patrolman Stanley

Lasky of the Lake Street Station had tipped him off that Sheehan had implicated

him in the murder of old man Schneider.

Now Billy Byrne had not killed Schneider. He had been nowhere near the old

fellow's saloon at the time of the holdup; but Sheehan, who had been arrested

and charged with the crime, was an old enemy of Billy's, and Sheehan had seen a

chance to divert some of the suspicion from himself and square accounts with

Byrne at the same time.

The new Billy Byrne was ready to accept at face value everything which seemed to

belong in any way to the environment of that exalted realm where dwelt the girl

he loved. Law, order, and justice appeared to Billy in a new light since he had

rubbed elbows with the cultured and refined.

He no longer distrusted or feared them. They would give him what he sought--a

square deal.

It seemed odd to Billy that he should be seeking anything from the law or its

minions. For years he had waged a perpetual battle with both. Now he was

coming back voluntarily to give himself up, with every conviction that he should

be exonerated quickly. Billy, knowing his own innocence, realizing his own

integrity, assumed that others must immediately appreciate both.

"First," thought Billy, "I'll go take a look at little old Grand Ave., then I'll give

myself up. The trial may take a long time, an' if it does I want to see some of the

old bunch first."

So Billy entered an "L" coach and leaning on the sill of an open window watched

grimy Chicago rattle past until the guard's "Granavenoo" announced the end of

his journey.

Maggie Shane was sitting on the upper step of the long flight of stairs which lean

precariously against the scarred face of the frame residence upon the second floor

front of which the lares and penates of the Shane family are crowded into three

ill-smelling rooms.

It was Saturday and Maggie was off. She sat there rather disconsolate for there

was a dearth of beaux for Maggie, none having arisen to fill the aching void left by

the sudden departure of "Coke" Sheehan since that worthy gentleman had sought

a more salubrious clime--to the consternation of both Maggie Shane and Mr.

Sheehan's bondsmen.

150

The Mucker