"What did you say, sir?" said the chairman, bending deferentially toward the distinguished orator of the evening.
"She lived in Albany during this time, did you say?"
"Oh yes, sir; she has never been out of this city."
And then, leaving the chairman to wonder what that could possibly have to do with the subject, Theodore bent eagerly forward. Two men were taking slow steps down the central aisle, trying to urge on the irresolute steps of the third—and the third one was Jerry! They were trying to get him forward to the pledge table. Would they succeed? It looked extremely doubtful. Jerry was shaking his head in answer to their low entreaties, and trying to turn back. Theodore arose suddenly, ran lightly down the steps, and advanced to his side.
"Jerry," he said, in distinct, low tones, "come; you used to be a good friend of mine, and I want you to do a good turn for me now, and sign this pledge."
Jerry turned bleared, rum-weakened eyes on him, and said in a thick, wondering voice:
"Who the dickens be you?"
"I'm an old friend of yours. Don't you know me? I used to be Tode Mall. Don't you remember? Come, take my arm; you and I have walked arm in arm down Broadway many a time; let us walk together now down this aisle and sign the pledge together."
For all answer Jerry turned astounded eyes upon the speaker, and muttered in an under tone:
"You be hanged! 'Tain't no such—yes, 'tis—no 'tain't—'tis, too—them's his eyes and his nose! I'll be shot if it ain't Tode Mall himself!"