It was as though each had been secreted from the other and had to be
sought out in some mysterious manner and in a circle. In spite of the
feeling of distress that an impending struggle of this kind gives one, I
could not help noting the comic condition of Rourke's back--the long
coat beautifully ripped straight up the back, its ends fluttering in the
wind like fans, and exposing his waistcoat and Sunday boiled white
shirt--and laying up a laugh for the future. It was too ridiculous. The
stranger had a most impressive and yet absurd air of drunken sternness
written in his face, a do-or-die look.
Whether anything serious would really have happened I was never
permitted to learn, for now, in addition to myself and the Italians, all
of them excited and ready to defend their lord and master, some
passengers from the nearby station and the street above as well as a
foreman of a section gang helping at this same task, a great hulking
brute of a man who looked quite able to handle both Rourke and his
opponent at one and the same time, came forward and joined in this
excited circle. Considerable effort was made on the part of the latter
to learn just what the trouble was, after which the big foreman
interposed with:
"What's the trouble here? Come, now! What's all this row, Rourke? Ye
wouldn't fight here, would ye? Have him arristed, er go to his home--ye
say ye know him--but don't be fightin' here. Supposin' waan av the
bosses should be comin' along now?" and at the same time he interposed
his great bulk between the two.
Rourke, quieted some by this interruption but still sputtering with rage
and disgrace, shouted, "Lookit me coat! Lookit what he done to me coat!
See what he done to me coat! Man alive, d'ye think I'm goin' to stand
fer the likes av that? It's naht me that can be waalked on by a loafer
like that--an' me payin' him more than ever he was worth, an' him
waalkin' aaf an' l'avin' the job half done. I'll fix him this time. I'll
show him. I'll tache him to be comin' around an' disturbin' a man when
he's at his work. I'll fix him now," and once more he began to move. But
the great foreman was not so easily to be disposed of.
"Well then, let's caall the police," he argued in a highly conciliatory
mood. "Ye can't be fightin' him here. Sure, ye don't waant to do that.
What'll the chafe think? What is it ye'll think av yerself?"
At the same time he turned to find the intruder and demand to know what
he meant by it, but the latter had already decamped. Seeing the crowd
that had and was gathering, and that he was likely to encounter more
forms of trouble than he had anticipated, he had started down the track
toward Mott Haven.
"I'll fix ye!" Rourke shouted when he saw him going. "Ye'll pay fer
this. I'll have ye arristed. Wait! Ye'll naht get aaf so aisy this
time."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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