“That it does,” said Mrs. Dooley, quite willing to deprive her husband of it, for the benefit of her children.
“But what shall Oi do wid it?” asked Mr. Dooley.
“I’d like Mr. Stirling to take charge of mine,” said Blackett.
“That’s the idea,” said Dooley.
And so it was settled by all. Peter said the best thing would be to put it in the savings bank. “Perhaps later we’ll find something better.” They all went around to a well-known institution on the Bowery, and Peter interviewed the cashier. It proved feasible to endorse over the check to the bank, and credit the proper share to each.
“I shall have to ask you to give me the odd two hundred and fifty,” Peter said, “as that is my legal fee.”
“You had better let me put that in your name, Mr. Stirling?” said the president, who had been called into the consultation.
“Very well,” said Peter. “I shall want some of it before long, but the rest will be very well off here.” So a book was handed him, and the president shook him by the hand with all the warmth that eight thousand two hundred and fifty dollars of increased assets and four new depositors implied.
Peter did not need to draw any of the two hundred and fifty dollars, however. In November he had another knock at his door.
It proved to be Mr. Dennis Moriarty, of whom we have incidentally spoken in connection with the half-price drinks for the Milligan wake, and as spokesman of the torchlight procession.