"It ain't my fault," he said. "I've stood him off as long as I could. You gotta do it now, an' if you don't he'll have you two up for Crab Rotello's assault. I know it. He means business this time. You can crack a safe, Kid, can't you?"
§9. On the stage at Cooper Union, Luke was holding an impromptu reception. Hundreds of people were streaming by him and shaking his hand. His arm ached, but he was proud and glad.
At the end of the stream came Betty and Nicholson. Luke saw the girl long before she could reach him, and he smiled to her over the heads of the crowd.
"You dear!" she whispered when, at last, her hand caught his. "I'm proud of you. I'm so proud!"
He pressed her hand.
"That's the best praise of all," he said, and to her companion: "I'm glad you're here, Mr. Nicholson."
Nicholson shook hands.
"I was glad to be here. I admired your delivery even where I disapproved of your treatment."
"What?" laughed Luke. "Is the church going to make friends with the mammon of unrighteousness?" He was hoarse and hot and nervous, but he was too warmly aglow with his success to heed seriously the reply that Nicholson was beginning when one of his friends on the stage plucked his sleeve. He turned. "What is it?" he asked.
"Nelson wants to see you. I don't know what about, but he says it's very important."