"How does he?"
"How? By puttin' him up to fightin' an' all sorts o' devilment, by teachin' him to be tough, by gettin' him drunk—"
"Oh, does he?"
"Why, bless ye, Bud M'Ginnis can do anything with him!"
"How so?"
"Because Arthur jest worships M'Ginnis for his strength and toughness!"
"I see!"
"Yes, Arthur thinks there's nobody in the world could lick Bud M'Ginnis."
"Hum! May I smoke, Mrs. Trapes?"
"Sure ye may!" she nodded, and began to collect the supper things. "I tell you what," she exclaimed suddenly, flourishing the fork she had just taken up, "if somebody would only come along an' thrash M'Ginnis, thrash him good, it would be a sight better for every one around here—it would so! M'Ginnis is always makin' trouble for some one or other, an' there ain't a man big enough or got heart enough to stand up to him—not even Spider Connolly. Wish I was a man, that's all—just for an hour! Ah!" Here Mrs. Trapes snorted fiercer than usual, and the jut of her elbows was deadly.