“Do you know Mr. Hickman--Henry Hickman, the lawyer?” “He's not on my calling list,” said Finnegan. “I know him by sight.” “I've heard it said that he had something to do with beating a water bill in the city council. Did he?” “You bet your life he did!” said the bartender with a grin. “Is it true that he bought up the council?” “You bet your life it's true!” “And is it true that Mr. Callahan got some of the money?” Finnegan glanced at the other suspiciously. “Say,” he said, “what's all this about, anyhow?” “Listen,” said Samuel gravely. “You know that Mr. Hickman is a member of my church. And he's Dr. Vince's brother-in-law, which makes it more complicated yet. Dr. Vince has heard these terrible stories, and you can see how awkward it is for him. He cannot let such evil-doers go unrebuked.” “Gee!” said the other. “What's he going to do?” “I don't know,” said Samuel. “He hasn't told me that. First, you see, he has to be sure that the thing is true. And, of course, Mr. Hickman wouldn't tell.” “No,” said Finnegan. “Hardly!” “And it isn't easy for the doctor to find out. You see--he's a clergyman, and he only meets good people. But I told him I would find out for him.” “I see,” said Finnegan. “What I want,” said the boy, “is to be able to tell him that I heard it from the lips of one of the men who got the money. I won't have to say who it is--he'll take my word for that. Do you suppose Mr. Callahan would talk about it?” The bartender thought for a moment. “You wait here,” he said. “The boss has only stepped round the corner; and perhaps I can get the doctor what he wants.” So Samuel sat down and waited; and in a few minutes John Callahan came in. He was a thick-set and red-faced Irishman, good-natured and pleasant looking-not at all like the desperado Samuel had imagined. “Say, John,” said Finnegan. “This boy here used to work for Bertie Lockman; and he's got a girl works for the Wygants.” “So!” said Callahan. “And what do you think,” went on the other, “He heard old Henry Hickman talking--he says you fellows held him up on that water bill.” “Go on!” said Callahan. “Did he say that?” “He did,” said Finnegan, without giving Samuel a chance to reply. “Well,” said the other, “he's a damned liar, and he knows it. It was a dead straight proposition, and we hadn't a thing to do with it. There was an independent water company that wanted a franchise--and it would have given the city its water for just half. Every time I pay my water bill I am sorry I didn't hold out. It would have been cheaper for me in the end.” “He says it cost him sixty thousand,” remarked Finnegan. “Maybe,” said the other. “You can't tell what the organization got. All I know is that ten of us fellows in the council got two thousand apiece out of it.” There was a pause. Samuel was listening with his hands clenched tightly. “Did he pay it to you himself?” asked Finnegan.