Festus dashed into the Longbranch, skidding to a stop next to Doc and Kitty. The old man jumped and his beer went flying, covering him with suds. "What in thunder is wrong with you?" he shouted at the deputy.

"Doc, you'll never believe what just rode into town!"

"I can't believe what just came in here!" Doc fumed, wiping himself down. Festus pulled off his kerchief and tried to help, only to get his hand slapped.

"It's two little fellers drivin' two little horses pullin' a little wagon!"

Doc said sadly to Kitty, "I always knew this would happen someday. He never had much of a mind to begin with and now he's lost what little there was."

Festus glared. "You ornery old scutter, you just don't know nothin' 'bout nothin'. Miss Kitty, you'll listen to me. These little fellers, they're dressed all in green and they got long pipes and they talk kinda funny..."

"THEY talk funny?" asked Doc.

Festus ignored him. "Miss Kitty, I think they's leppercans!"

Kitty's mouth opened and closed. She turned to Doc, who started to laugh, then managed to ask, "Festus, are you trying to say leprechauns?"

"That's what I said...leppercans. My grandpa Hawg Haggen told me all 'bout 'em. He said they lived clear on t'other side of the Atlantis Ocean..."

"You mean the Atlantic Ocean," Doc said.

"And they has a magic rock called the Barney Stone..."

"That's BLARNEY Stone."

"And they always has a pot of gold hid somewheres. All you got to do is glom onto one of 'em and hold tight and he's got to give up his gold."

Kitty said firmly, "Festus, there's no such thing as a leprechaun."

"Wait 'til you see 'em, Miss Kitty! They's comin' here!"

"They are?"

"Well, they asked where's the best place in town to get a drink, so I just natur'ly told 'em the Longbranch." Festus went to the swinging doors and looked up the street, then hurried back. "They's fixin' to come in right now!"

Doc and Kitty exchanged a look, then sat back and waited. The doors swung in and the strangers arrived. They were about three feet tall, dressed in plain green trousers and jackets. One was very old, the other very young. Both had red hair and grey eyes and were smoking long clay pipes. Everybody in the room turned to look at them as they went to the bar.

Sam smiled. "What'll it be?"

The older one took his pipe out of his mouth. "Would you be having any poteen?"

Sam looked puzzled. "I'm afraid I don't know what that is."

"Ah, well, I'm not surprised. I suppose if we ever hope to taste it again we'll have to make it ourselves. Do you have any whiskey, then?"

"Whiskey we have."

"Then it's a bottle of your finest we'll be taking, along with three glasses."

"Three?"

"One for meself..." the man bowed, "...Brian Finnigan, one for himself..." he indicated the youngster, "...Jamie Finnigan, me grandson, and one for the lovely lady." He smiled broadly at Kitty.

She smiled back and got up. "Mr Finnigan, my name is Kitty Russell and I own this establishment."

Festus took her vacated chair and leaned over to Doc. "There, didn't I tell you? You can see for yoreself they ain't regilar folks," he whispered.

Doc looked exasperated. "The only irregular person in here is you. Now be quiet before you create even more of a disturbance than you already have."

The deputy sat back. "All right, Doc, but you'll see I'm right 'fore the end. It's plain as day to me. Them two fellers is leppercans."