“You wouldn’t know about it,” said Gallagher, “for you’d be the last man they’d dare to tell, knowing well that you’d be as angry as I am myself. Do you know what the tune is that the doctor has taught to the band?”
Father McCormack did know, but he was very unwilling to enter into a discussion of the subject with Gallagher.
“Constable Moriarty,” said Gallagher, “is after telling me the name of the tune, and you’d be surprised, so you would, if you heard it.”
“You may be mistaken, Thady, you may be mistaken. One tune’s very like another when it’s played on a band.”
“I am not mistaken,” said Gallagher, who was beginning to feel suspicious about the priest’s evident desire to shelve the subject.
“And anyway,” said Father McCormack, “it’s Dr. O’Grady himself that you’d better be speaking to about the tune.”
“I will speak to him; but he’s not here presently.”
“Try Doyle then,” said Father McCormack. “There he is coming out of the hotel. I haven’t time to go into the matter. I want to go over and look at Mary Ellen.”
He slipped away as he spoke, leaving Gallagher standing, sulky and very suspicious, by himself. Doyle, who had no reason to think that anything had gone wrong, greeted him heartily. Gallagher replied angrily.
“Do you know what tune it is that the band’s going to play?” he said.