“She hocks everyt’ing she kin carry,” said McGonagle. “Dick can’t trust her wit’ a cent.” “Small blame till him,” said Clancy; “she’d git drink wid it. He comes in an’ pays me bill every Saturday noight himself, poor b’y.” “Makes big money, too,” remarked McGonagle; “and she cud live like a lady if she’d cut the bottle. It’s hard lines for Dick, le’me tell youse; for he’s a hard worker, an’ he’s got mighty big notions ’bout gittin’ to the top o’ the heap.” “That sister o’ his is a nice-lookin’ fairy,” said McGonagle. “Poody as a bicture,” agreed Schwartz. O’Hara gave a grunt; the barber snatched away his blade and inquired, “Does der razor hurd?” “Yez damned near cut me chin!” growled the dealer in second-hand goods. “Shut up, an’ tind till yez wurk.” “She’s a nice girl enough,” said Jerry, “but, say, she’s cert’ny playin’ Roddy Ferguson for a dead one.” “An’ is Roddy shparkin’ her, sure?” inquired Clancy. “Sure! I never seen anybody so broke up on a bundle o’ skirts in me life. Say, he’s dead twisted about her; he talks about her every time he opens his mouth.” “Roddy’s a study b’y,” said Burns. “I heerd that O’Connor’ll be takin’ him intill the bizness wan av these days. It’s a good man he’d make her.” “Dick’s leary on him,” said McGonagle, “he won’t let her even look at him.” “D’yez say so!” And Clancy regarded the speaker with great surprise. “Faith an’ I t’ought they wur great buddies. They wint till the Brothers’ School together, an’ in thim days, divil a long they wur iver apart.” “Why it’s a chestnut!” exclaimed McGonagle. “I t’ought everybody in the ward was next to that. They’ve bin given each other the stony smile ever since las’ election, when O’Connor and Gartenheim run against each other for select council.” “Ach!” cried Schwartz, “dot vas a hod dime!” “The warmest ever,” agreed McGonagle. “It was a reg’lar drag out or I never seen one.” “Wur they not both Dimmycrats?” asked Tim. “What call had they till foight, I dunno? I wur in the division at the toime, sure, bud I niver got the roight av the t’ing.” “Why, when the gang went to the convention they was split an’ primed for trouble, see? One crowd wanted O’Connor, an’ the other was a-fracturin’ their suspenders whoopin’ t’ings up for Gartenheim. And when the O’Connor push got the bulge, the Dutchman’s people broke for the door, and started a convention o’ their own upstairs o’ Swinghammer’s saloon. Both o’ ’em was in the fight from that on, and the way they shovelled out the long green ’ed make youse t’ink they was rank suckers. Why a mug couldn’t turn aroun’ wit’out runnin’ into a bunch o’ money.” “Glory be!”