"He gave me this the night he left for Italy," said Miss Conway. "I
had one for the locket made from this."
"A fine-looking man," said Mr. Donovan heartily. "How would it suit
you, Miss Conway, to give me the pleasure of your company to Coney next
Sunday afternoon?"
A month later they announced their engagement to Mrs. Scott and the
other boarders. Miss Conway continued to wear black.
A week after the announcement the two sat on the same bench in the
downtown park, while the fluttering leaves of the trees made a dim
kinetoscopic picture of them in the moonlight. But Donovan had worn a
look of abstracted gloom all day. He was so silent to-night that
love's lips could not keep back any longer the questions that love's
heart propounded.
"What's the matter, Andy, you are so solemn and grouchy to-night?"
"Nothing, Maggie."
"I know better. Can't I tell? You never acted this way before. What
is it?"
"It's nothing much, Maggie."
"Yes it is, and I want to know. I'll bet it's some other girl you are
thinking about. All right. Why don't you go and get her if you want
her? Take your arm away, if you please."
"I'll tell you then," said Andy wisely; "but I guess you won't
understand it exactly. You've heard of Mike Sullivan, haven't you?
'Big Mike' Sullivan, everybody calls him."
"No, I haven't," said Maggie. "And I don't want to, if he makes you
act like this. Who is he?"
"He's the biggest man in New York," said Andy, almost reverently. "He
can do about anything he wants to with Tammany or any other old thing
in the political line. He's a mile high and as broad as East River.
You say anything against Big Mike and you'll have a million men on your
collarbone in about two seconds. Why, he made a visit over to the old
country awhile back, and the kings took to their holes like rabbits.
"Well, Big Mike's a friend of mine. I ain't more than deuce-high in
the district as far as influence goes, but Mike's as good a friend to a
little man, or a poor man, as he is to a big one. I met him to-day on
the Bowery, and what do you think he does? Comes up and shakes hands.
'Andy,' says he, 'I've been keeping cases on you. You've been putting
in some good licks over on your side of the street, and I'm proud of
you. What'll you take to drink?' He takes a cigar, and I take a
highball. I told him I was going to get married in two weeks. 'Andy,'
says he, 'send me an invitation, so I'll keep in mind of it, and I'll
come to the wedding.' That's what Big Mike says to me; and he always
does what he says.
"You don't understand it, Maggie, but I'd have one of my hands cut off
to have Big Mike Sullivan at our wedding. It would be the proudest day
of my life. When he goes to a man's wedding there's a guy being
married that's made for life. Now, that's why I've maybe been looking
sore to-night."
"Why don't you invite him, then, if he's so much to the mustard?" said
Maggie lightly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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