“An’ why would it be Hennessy?” asked Sam.
“It wouldn’t on’y f’r Gallagher,” said Stumpy, “but thim two is like a hammer an’ a shtick o’ dynamite, or a mule’s hind leg an’ a sthraw. Av they do be kept apart, there’s no great harrum, but av ye bring thim together, belike there’s friction.”
“They was playin’ cards sociable enough last night,” observed Sam.
“That’s it,” replied Stumpy. “When thim two gets sociable, ye wants to kape yer eye open. Whin it’s a cussin’ f’m Gallagher, him bein’ foreman, or a kick f’m Hinnissy, that bein’ his disposition, they’re good friends. Sure they’re both of thim Oirish. But whin they get fri’ndly, they do be two naturalized citizens, wid Oirish blood an’ Mississippi River manners, an’ God knows.”
“No, but I shmelt it, an’ this mornin’ the shmell is still in th’ air. My dog Peter has the scint of it, shtrong. He kim out wid me for a walk, an’ whin we passed Gallagher’s, he sniffed around loike he do for a rat. An’ he turned back an’ lay down in the road near Hinnissy’s place. Sure he knows more o’ some things nor a Christian.”
“Then you think there’ll be trouble?” asked Sam, somewhat jeeringly.
“Sure, Oi don’t think it,” said Stumpy, “but Oi do be tellin’ ye Oi shmell it.”
What further discussion there might have been was cut off at this point by the appearance of two or three citizens in the distance. They were making their way leisurely toward Sam’s place of business, and he, foreseeing a demand for his services, went indoors.
As if the appearance of the first comers on the street had been a signal, others presently appeared, and in a few minutes Brownsville had put on as much of an appearance of activity as was usual when there was no boat expected.