“Is that yersilf, sor? Sure it’s me that has been on the anxious seat the morning through.”
“It is, Tom. And forget that ‘sir,’ will you? It’s a fine thing to have one workman calling another workman sir, isn’t it!”
There was a pause. “ ’Twouldn’t do at all, sor,” said Larry.
I laughed. “There you go again. Now listen, Tom. Business is good, for I’ve found a little job of work for the two of us to-night. It’s at a lady’s house in the Seventies. ’Tis the house of the lady you saw yesterday at noon. I want you to meet me to-night at the corner of 14th Street and Seventh Avenue, in the little saloon there, and bring your tools with you. Do you understand?”
There was a silence.
“Hello, Tom?”
“Yis, sor —I mean, Mike. What sort of a job would it be this time?”
“I’ll tell you when I see you.”
“What’s the address, Mike?”
I told him, laughing.