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The build of Hartigan at once suggested plain-clothes policeman, and the barkeeper eyed him suspiciously. Hopkins spoke first: "Is the boss in?" The barkeeper made a gesture, pointing to the back room. "May we see him?" "I s'pose so." And again, with a jerk of the thumb, the back room was indicated. The two walked in. It was a small room, meanly furnished, with a square table in the centre.
This seemed like a misfortune, but it proved a blessing, for it kept Hartigan out of the racing crowd for a week at a time when he was skating on ice that was very, very thin. As Saturday came, the Rev. Dr. Jebb received an unexpected call from a very regular caller the Rev. James Hartigan to ask if Dr. Jebb would kindly take both sermons on Sunday next.
Hartigan, but no blessin' can come on such a rite as this. "Without a word of congratulation, the priest performed the service of his church, and in silence the pair proceeded to the cottage of the bride, where they fastened the doors and windows securely, and retired.
Now it all came back and Hartigan shouted out the rede: "Haakon is dead! Haakon is dead! Haakon of the bronze-hilt sword is dead. His son's in his stead; Aymal, tall son of Haakon, Swings now the bronze-hilt sword of his father.
So he tied the horse to the post, helped her from the rig, and with a flourish of his stick and cap left her. "The Rev. James Hartigan," she mused; "so that is Dr. Jebb's assistant." Then in Stockings's ear: "I think I like him don't you, old runaway?" Belle Boyd Belle had been in the express office signing some receipts for goods consigned to her father when Jim stepped from the train.
"I'm with you to the finish there," said Lowe, "but what harm is there in filling these small glasses so"; he emptied a moderate draught into a row of tumblers set out upon the table. "If Pat is willing to meet you half way and see this keg emptied on the floor, you wouldn't refuse a small drink with him in his own house, would you?" Hartigan hesitated.
He was enlightened and prattled on: "Oh, Reverend Hartigan and Dr. Carson. Good! Healing for the body and healing for the soul, and my healing is for the estate happy trinity, isn't it? Sit down, gentlemen."
"Hartigan," said he, "you'll condescend to kiss the book, sir, if you please: there's a hollowness in that smack, my good fellow, that can't escape me." "Not kiss it, your honor? why, by this staff in my hand, if ever a man kissed" "Silence! you impostor," said the curate; "I watched you closely, and am confident your lips never touched the book." "My lips never touched the book!
"You are right," said Lowe, "absolutely right. Pat, let me have that keg," and the schoolteacher proceeded to hammer around the bung, in the way of the orthodox bung-starter. There were murmurs and strong words, but he went on while Hartigan stood guard. The bung came loose, he lifted it out, and put his nostrils to the hole. "That's the real stuff, just as it dropped from the quill.
As he rose, Hartigan said in his inimitable way: "Now, friends, I want to apologize to you all for seeming uncivil, but there are times when a man has to be a little abrupt, and if I have hurt your feelings or annoyed you in any way I am very sorry for it, because I'd rather be friends. Let's shake hands before I leave, and I will be glad to see any of you in church."
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