“It depends on the guy that’s doin’ the stunt,” answered McGonagle.
“Eh, no! What t’ell no! Youse do it every hitch!” And Foley excitedly dramatized a scene: “A gent comes up to me, and puts out his fin, see? What do I do? Why I takes it, an’ puts away me medicine like a little man! All to be sociable, see? All to be sociable!”
“That’s right,” agreed Daily. “That’s the proper t’ing to do. Why youse’d cut a hell of a caper, turnin’ down good people, wouldn’t youse.”
“Ah, go soak yer head,” growled McGonagle. “Youse guys give me a pain! We ain’t suckers; we kin see a play when it’s made, as well as the next.”
“Youse’re all gents!” put in Martin, sarcastically. “Here that lobster Murphy goes an’ turns down a lady, at the door. I’m ’sponsible to me friends for that, d’ye hear? I sold ’em the tickets an’ I’m ’sponsible for the game I steered ’em against! Ain’t that right?”
“Sure,” answered Daily and Foley in a breath.
“Where’s Murphy?” demanded Martin. “Murphy’s got to apologize fer insultin’ Nobby’s lady friend. He’s got to do it!”
“It’s comin’,” said McGlory, in a low tone.
“We’d better put Larry next,” remarked McCarty in the same voice. “Kelly carries a jack; remember how he t’rowed it into Ned Hogan that night?”
Larry was dancing; he had his arm about Annie Clancy’s trim waist and they swayed and spun with the music. Annie’s face was bright and happy; her eyes shone like twin stars, for Larry was telling her how good a fellow his friend McGonagle was, and that was a tale that Annie could have listened to forever.