Hogan was a man whom almost every one feared, being, from confidence, we presume, in his great strength, as well as by nature, both insolent, overbearing, and ruffianly in the extreme.

His inseparable and appropriate companion was a fierce and powerful bull-dog of the old Irish breed, which he had so admirably trained that it was only necessary to give him a sign, and he would seize by the throat either man or beast, merely in compliance with the will of his master.

On this occasion he was accompanied by two of his brothers, who were, in fact, nearly as impudent and offensive ruffians as himself.

Hycy paused for a moment, seemed thoughtful, and tapped his boot with the point of his whip as he looked at them.

On entering the parlor he found dinner over, and his father, as was usual, waiting to get his tumbler of punch.
"Where's my mother ?" he asked--"where's Mrs.Burke ?" On uttering the last words he raised his voice so as she might distinctly hear him.
"She's above stairs gettin' the whiskey," replied his father, "and God knows she's long enough about it." Hycy ran up, and meeting her on the lobby, said, in a low, anxious voice-- "Well, what news?
Will he stand it ?" "No," she replied, "you may give up the notion--he won't do it, an' there's no use in axin' him any more." "He won't do it!" repeated the son; "are you certain now ?" "Sure an' sartin.