“We heard that yez had come this way,” remarked Kelly, as he came up. “McQuirk an’ mesilf were passin’ Phil Burk’s place as he wur shuttin’ up an’ he towld us yez had started for the club.”
“We want to have a little talk,” said the boss, as they walked along. “A little confabulation, you know.”
Larry nudged his friend, and received a like signal in return.
“All right,” said he, cheerfully, “sing your song, Mac. What’s on yer mind?”
“We want till ax yez—” Kelly began, hurriedly; but McQuirk stopped him.
“Let me tend to this,” requested he, coolly. He turned to Larry and in a fatherly fashion laid his hand upon his shoulder. They were under an arc lamp and in the blue-white light, Larry saw that his face was wrinkling with smiles.
“You boys put up a good fight,” said McQuirk. “I like the way you run things. Me an’ Moran was talkin’ about an hour ago; he’s feelin’ obliged to the club for turnin’ in for Rhinehardt for common council, and told me to tell you so.”
“Don’t mention it,” murmured Larry.
“There’s bigger lobsters than Rhinehardt kickin’ around loose,” put in McGonagle. “He kin get a lamp-post put on the corner if youse want one bad; an’ he kin have one took away if youse kick. That’s more’n some o’ the other guys kin do for the ward.”
McQuirk nodded and smiled approvingly.