"Native of Ireland, aged 29; a coachman by occupation. The bride a cook, born in New Brunswick."
"Very well done. Will you look over the steerage list of the European steamers for a fortnight back and ahead? We want that couple, if possible."
"I will," answered Costa, in a manner which showed that the compliment was not wasted. Once more McCausland rose and looked out before shutting the door. Evidently this was another of his mannerisms, and perhaps not the least useful, since one never knows what interlopers may be harking about.
"We have connected numbers two and three of the triangle," he resumed as soon as he was fairly seated, "the interests of Mr. and Mrs. Mungovan being presumably identical."
"I cannot; seriously I cannot credit the charge against Floyd," said the district attorney, "in face of the tender relations known to have subsisted between the young man and his uncle."
"Tender"—McCausland's fat face creased all over into dimples of merriment. "Do young men elope with their grandmothers?"
"Not often," answered the district attorney.
"Neither do they dote madly on their crotchety uncles in the slippers and dressing-gowns of 78."
"Even at 78 I should expect consideration from a nephew whom I had taken in as an orphan and raised to wealth and position."
"Wealth and position! Perhaps that's the rub."