"Oh, Dennis is forgiving, like all Irishmen," said Robert. Impulsively he laid a hand on Maizie's.
"Maizie is part Irish, too," he added, meaningly. The girl smiled at him star-eyed. For she understood.
CHAPTER LXXI
THE BLIND BOSS
Francisco met the erstwhile agitator on the street one day. He had made his peace with many former foes, including Pickering."
"Politics is a rotten game, me b'y," he said, by way of explanation. "And I've a family, two little girruls at home. I want thim to remimber their father as something besides a blatherskite phin they grow up. So I'm in a rispictible business again.... There's a new boss now, bad cess to him! Chris Buckley.
"Him your Chinese friends call 'The Blind White Devil?' Yes, I've heard of Chris."
"He keeps a saloon wid a gossoon name o' Fallon, on Bush street.... Go up and see him, Misther Stanley.... He's a fair-speakin' felly I'm told.... Ask him," Dennis whispered, nudging the writer's ribs with his elbow, "ask him how his gambling place in Platt's Hall is coming on?"