“They are two of the best,” Stan cut in. “You can learn a lot from them.”
“I might and I might be able to teach them something. I’m signed up as an instructor to show the boys some of the new wrinkles we have developed over in the States.” Nick Munson smiled a little patronizingly.
Stan looked at him thoughtfully. “I have had a bit of experience in the United States,” he said.
Nick Munson did not meet Stan’s steady gaze. “That must have been a while back,” he said.
“Not so long ago,” Stan answered, then added, “but we must be toddling along. I just wanted you to meet the men you’ll be working with. See you later.”
They turned away, leaving Nick to amuse the native girls. When they had crossed the street, O’Malley growled:
“That spalpeen better not try teachin’ me any new tricks.”
“He’ll bear watching,” Allison remarked.
“If he makes any more wisecracks I’ll sock him,” O’Malley threatened. “He made me mad first, so I get first whack.”
Allison laughed. “Don’t be a nut, Irish. He’ll make a good man once he’s been up the glory trail and has had some hot lead smacked through his ship. He may even learn a few new wrinkles the Americans have not worked out.” He gave Stan a knowing leer. “Yanks are all a bit cocky at first.”