“Divils me darlin’, his eyes are open all right,” returned Deely.
“Still, I’d like to jog his elbow,” Sibley answered reflectively. “It couldn’t do any harm, and it might do good.”
Deely nodded good-naturedly. “If you want to so bad as that, John, you’ve got the chance, for he’s up at the Sovereign Bank now. I seen him leave the Great Overland Railway Bureau ten minutes ago and get away quick to the bank.”
“What’s he got on at the bank and the railway?”
“Some big deal, I guess. I’ve seen him with Studd Bradley.”
“The Great North Trust Company boss?”
“On it, my boy, on it—the other day as thick as thieves. Studd Bradley doesn’t knit up with an outsider from the old country unless there’s reason for it—good gold-currency reasons.”
“A land deal, eh?” ventured Sibley. “What did I say—speculation, that’s his vice, same as mine! P’r’aps that’s what ruined him. Cards, speculation, what’s the difference? And he’s got a quiet look, same as me.”
Deely laughed loudly. “And bursts out same as you! Quiet one hour like a mill-pond or a well, and then—swhish, he’s blazin’! He’s a volcano in harness, that spalpeen.”
“He’s a volcano that doesn’t erupt when there’s danger,” responded Sibley. “It’s when there’s just fun on that his volcano gets loose. I’ll go wait for him at the bank. I got a fellow-feeling for Mr. Kerry. I’d like to whisper in his ear that he’d better be lookin’ sharp for the M’Mahon Gang, and that if he’s a man of peace he’d best take a holiday till after next week, or get smallpox or something.”