CHAPTER XXXVII. DAN IS DISCOVERED.
Donovan had two customers. One was an Irishman, the other a German. Both had evidently drank more than was good for them. Dan looked in vain for Althea. Mrs. Donovan had taken her up stairs.
"Well, boy, what do you want?" asked Donovan, rather roughly.
"Will you have yer musique?" asked Dan, uncertain whether he was talking as an Italian boy might be expected to.
"No; I don't want to hear any fiddle-scraping."
"Shure, let him play a little, Mister Donovan," said the Irishman.
"Just as you like," said Donovan, carelessly, "only I have no money for him."
"Faith, thin, I have. Here boy, play something."
Dan struck up his one tune—Viva Garibaldi—but the Irishman did not seem to care for that.