"And what would your business be that you'd be crossing 'em?" the landlord asked.
"I'm the Republican campaign speaker that's selected to address them to-night."
"Oh-h! Well, d'y'know, when I didn't see a sample case with you I had my suspicions; but when you said—or did you say your name was Riley?"
"I did. And it is. R-i-l-e-y—Riley, Timothy J. And there's any number of Republicans with names as good."
"I dare say, but not in New Ireland—nor likely to be while so many of your party put us down for a tribe of savages."
"Have patience, Mr. Kearney. There's a new order of things under way. Have patience. And tell me now how many Republicans should you estimate there are in New Ireland?"
"Estimate? Sure, and that's a large word for them. There's Grimmer, the cashier and chief clerk o' the savin's-bank. There's Handy, who keeps the real-estate office. And did ever ye notice, Mr. Riley, how, when a man has a soft-payin', easy-workin' job, 'tis ten to one he's a Republican?"
"I've spoken of it so often myself, Mr. Kearney, merely by way of humorous observation, that my party loyalty has been doubted. If you would never have your loyalty suspected, Mr. Kearney, you must never let on that you possess intelligence; but have patience and we'll have that changed some day—maybe. So those two are the leaders, are they?"
"Leaders, man! That's all of 'em."
"Two? Two out of nigh five hundred! Well, glory be, what kind are those two? The fighting kind?"