“Ah, rats!” returned McGonagle, savagely. “Youse’ll chirp for Kerrigan, or the next stunt youse’ll do’ll be at the morgue, stretchin’ slabs!” “Play light, Goose,” advised Larry, “I t’ink they’ll be in line.” News of the state of affairs reached the elder Kelly as he stood talking to McQuirk at the far side of the room; and they hurried toward the storm centre to prevent the coercion of their vote. Because of some trifling hitch the polling of the delegates had stopped for the time being, and Haley and the secretary were wrangling with a cluster of men about the platform. A man rushed up the aisle and stopped McQuirk, at the same time handing him a card. “He wants to see youse right away,” said the stranger. “Go ahead over and talk to them, Kelly,” said McQuirk. “I’ve got to go out for a second.” “What’s this,” asked Kelly, upon reaching the spot where Larry and his friends were gathered behind the chairs of the two protested delegates. “What call have yez till be threatenin’ these two min?” “Who’s threatenin’ ’em?” asked McGonagle, innocently. “You are, ye bla’gard!” exclaimed the saloonkeeper, hotly. “You an’ the likes av yez. Divil take me, bud youse’ll sup sorra for it, ye thaves av the world.” “Ah, go scratch yer head,” elegantly advised Larry. “Don’t cut loose with any o’ yer fireworks, Kelly; youse’re carryin’ weight for age and don’t work fast enough to mix it with this bunch.” “Youse’d t’ink,” said Martin Kelly, coming to the aid of his father, “that youse people run the shack, and no other body has a look in.” His proximity and the sound of his voice had an immediate effect upon Dick Nolan; his sister’s shame and young Kelly’s brutality on the night of the ball had burned themselves into his brain. “Let me plug him,” gasped Nolan, his face as white as death, his whole frame shaking with an overwhelming desire for revenge. He was struggling as he spoke in the arms of Roddy Ferguson; but Roddy dragged him away. “Don’t make a mess of it,” implored Roddy. “If youse jump him now ye’ll put the whole snap on the bum, maybe.” “What’s eatin’ Nolan?” asked McGonagle, wonderingly. “He’s leary on Kelly, youse can bank on that,” answered Casey. “From the cracks he made to me a while ago, he’s goin’ to put him out o’ business. I don’t know what he’s sore for.” The commotion attracted Haley’s attention and he commenced to sound his gavel and cry for order. The roll-call recommenced and just as Kelly turned to acquaint the chairman with the attempt being made upon Daily, that gentleman’s name was reached. “Now then!” grated Larry. The circle narrowed about Daily as he arose to his feet. Martin Kelly attempted to rally his friends; but the determined looks of the cordon of young men and Daily’s unpopularity caused it to result in nothing more than a scattering fire of protest. Daily swallowed several times, and his voice was somewhat husky, as he said: