“I don't think there is, then, to tell you the truth,” replied Hanlon; “old Jemmy is against you bitterly, an' Masther Richard's interest in this business isn't as strong as his.”
“The blackguard ould villain!” exclaimed Rody; “it will be a good job to give him a dog's knock some night or other.”
“I don't see that either,” replied Hanlon; “Ould Jemmy does a power of good in his way; and indeed many an act of kindness the master himself gets credit for that ought to go to Jemmy's account.”
“But you can give me a lift in the drivership, Charley, if you like.”
“I'm afeard not, so long as Jemmy's against you.”
“Ay, but couldn't you thry and twist that ould scoundrel himself in my favor?”
“Well,” replied the other, “there is something in that, and whatever I can do with him, I will, if you'll thry and do me a favor.”
“Me! Name it, man—name it, and it's done, if it was only to rob the Grange. Ha! ha! An' by the way, I dunna what puts robbin' the Grange into my head!”
And, as he spoke, his eye was bent with an expression of peculiar significance on Hanlon.
“No!” replied Hanlon with indifference; “it is not to rob the Grange. I believe you know something about the man they call the Black Prophet?”