CHAPTER 1 INTRODUCTORY My sporting associate and occasional client, Mr. Patrick Murphy, opened the door Belfast Office about twelve inches, inched himself through the aperture, and seating himself on the extreme edge of a chair, regarded me anxiously. I had seldom seen him so serious. The humorous twinkle in his eye was quenched momentarily for the first time in our acquaintance. I suppose ye hadnt time since mornin to look intil that, he said, nodding his head towards a pile of manuscript on my desk. Im sorry to say I hid, Pat, I answered. In fact, I read it all through. An what might ye think av it he asked cautiously. I think well print it, Pat, said I. But I want to know first if its all your own. Every word av it, Misther Doyle,. he said. Who wrote it all out for you then, Pat I said. Its not in your hand surely Ye may swear that, he answered. I wasnt that long at school. Wait an Ill tell you the whole story I was strollin along the road at me aise wan Sathurday afthernoon...