Kerrigan looked at Murphy quizzically, as they walked down the street.
“You’re ace high there, Larry.”
“Oh, cut it out,” said Larry, impatiently. But he was glad to hear it said, nevertheless.
Goose McGonagle had covered his route quickly that morning and by the time service was finished in the church and the thin stream of people began to flow into the street, he was standing on the step of Regan’s cigar store anxiously awaiting Clancy.
The grocer had stopped to discuss the primaries upon the sidewalk in front of the church, and some little time elapsed before he arrived at the point where Goose was awaiting him.
“Hello, Clancy,” saluted the latter, cordially. “How’s t’ings?” But without pausing for a reply he took the elder man by the sleeve and led him out to the curb. “Say,” inquired he, “have youse noticed that I’ve been hangin’ around your place a good bit in the last two or t’ree mont’s?”
“I have,” answered Clancy, bracing himself stiffly.
“Then I guess youse’re onto the reason.”
The grocer’s looks were not encouraging and Goose began to waver. But he pulled himself together, and blurted out. “Say, do youse mind if me and Annie gits Father Dawson to tie the knot?”
“Is it yezsilf would take Annie till Father Dawson?”