“Lord bless you, yes, Captain!” the man interrupted. “The boys come ’n’ offered me all I’d’ve needed.”
Stacey gazed at him. “D’you mean that our boys did that?” he demanded. “Peters and Swanson and Petitvalle and the rest of them?”
“Sure they did!”
“Then, damn it all! they’ve known about this charge against you ever since I got them together, and not one of them’s come to me and told me!”
Monahan grinned. “Sure not, Captain!” he replied. “They done what you told them to, because you’re you, ’n’, as far as I can see, they’re enjoying themselves doing it, it not being what you might call strictly according to rule. But they didn’t any of them come ’n’ lay their curly heads on your breast ’n’ sob out their own little troubles.”
Stacey fumed, then got over it, and fell into thought. Here were these men who’d go to hell with him—at least, Burnham had said they would—yet he couldn’t get at them, not really. What difficult secret souls they had! He sighed. Yet somehow he was proud of their reserve.
“Besides,” Monahan remarked, as a final shot, “I give them orders they was to say nothing to you about me.”
“Oh, you did!” said Stacey drily. “You’ve been giving too many orders. It’s my turn. Now listen to me, you damned red-headed fire-brand! To-morrow afternoon I’ll try to see General Wood and I’ll tell him about you. He’s a square man and white, and I think he’ll fix the thing up. But, just in case he shouldn’t, you’ll decamp, beat it, quit this lovely city, right now. And you’ll take money from me to do that. (Confound it!” he reflected, “I’ll have to borrow money from Traile to get home myself!) And you’ll let me know where you are, but not till to-morrow night, so that I won’t know when I see the general.”
A broad grin had spread over Monahan’s face, giving it an expression of gigantic good humor. “Faith! Captain,” he drawled, with a touch of brogue in his intonation, “as an example of sacred military discipline you’re in a class by yourself, you are! An Irishman you are at heart, Captain. And it’s sorry I am to have to disobey you. But I’d feel fine, wouldn’t I? to have General Wood saying sternly: ‘And where is this man, Captain Carroll?’ and you replying sweetly: ‘I gave him money ’n’ told him to quit the town, General!’ No, no, Captain! Right here will I sit ’n’ wait for you to come ’n’ say: ‘All is forgiven, Jim dear!’ or for the police to come ’n’ get me.”
Stacey, half furious, half delighted, capitulated. “Oh, well,” he said, “I hope you’ll go out and get something to eat now and then.” He rose to go, then paused. “Look here! You told me about all this. Why couldn’t you have told Traile?” he asked curiously. “He’s a good sort and he knows every one here. He’d have cleared things up.”