“Say, John,” said Finnegan. “This boy here used to work for Bertie Lockman; and he's got a girl works for the Wygants.”
“So!” said Callahan.
“And what do you think,” went on the other, “He heard old Henry Hickman talking—he says you fellows held him up on that water bill.”
“Go on!” said Callahan. “Did he say that?”
“He did,” said Finnegan, without giving Samuel a chance to reply.
“Well,” said the other, “he's a damned liar, and he knows it. It was a dead straight proposition, and we hadn't a thing to do with it. There was an independent water company that wanted a franchise—and it would have given the city its water for just half. Every time I pay my water bill I am sorry I didn't hold out. It would have been cheaper for me in the end.”
“He says it cost him sixty thousand,” remarked Finnegan.
“Maybe,” said the other. “You can't tell what the organization got. All I know is that ten of us fellows in the council got two thousand apiece out of it.”
There was a pause. Samuel was listening with his hands clenched tightly.
“Did he pay it to you himself?” asked Finnegan.