"Indeed I do," was the girl's quick answer.
"What good will it do," sighed Miriam; but, nevertheless, she found herself clinging to the girl as she did in every crisis when Shirley happened to be on hand.
"Do you suppose I'd miss being in at the death?" said Shirley after a moment.
"At the death?"
"Yes, I could see him hanged, drawn and quartered!" she exclaimed, with mock ferociousness.
Meanwhile, Mixley and McGrath were still holding their desultory conversation upon the situation of the day.
"They said," Mixley remarked to the other, "that the chief was politically dead after he had blackjacked the organisation; maybe he was—maybe he is, but he fights all right."
"He certainly cleaned things up," admitted McGrath, feeling of his biceps. "We helped him, eh?"
"He didn't do a thing to Cradlebaugh's," mused Mixley.
"Nor to the machine," smiled McGrath.