As Dennis proceeded the look of perplexity which he had noted upon the face of his listener seemed to give way to one of unmistakable relief, and when Dennis had stated his case he exclaimed: “Shure, now, it’s an aisy way out av a bad muss, so it is. Here, Phil!” he shouted, turning to the young fellow in the background, who had witnessed this brief interview with scowling interest, “here, you two can t’row th’ gloves down an’ shake; Muldoon here wants to hand yure job back to ye.”
At this announcement, the disfavor in the countenance of the other disappeared and was replaced by an expression which indicated that he regarded such liberality as something in the nature of a freak.
Some evidences of his debauch still clung to him.
His eyes were moist and heavy-lidded; his lips dry and tremulous, and the hand which he extended to Dennis shook somewhat.
“Come, now!” exclaimed the foreman, “that’s well over”; and addressing the one he called Phil he added: “Now get to work.”
Dennis looked his astonishment.
He had not calculated upon such a prompt acceptance of his resignation. He felt that he presented an absurd appearance, and that the foreman did not appear to his usual bluff advantage.
“Come this way,” said the latter to Dennis, who followed him into his office with a strange sinking at heart.
“I did not mean to hand over everything right off!” exclaimed Dennis.
“Well,” replied the foreman, “Phil’s wife came here early this mornin’ an’ put up a few tears, an’ Phil made all sorts av promises; an’ you have no children an’ he has, an—oh, the divil!” cried the foreman, weary of the series of explanations in which he was getting involved. “I can’t kape th’ two av ye, an’ Phil there is an ould hand at th’ paint-pot.”