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Pinckard chairman, Mrs. Charles Henderson, vice-chairman; Mrs. W. T. Sheehan, secretary; Mrs. Members of the Executive Committee were Mesdames Charles S. Thigpen, Hails Janney, Jack Thorington, J. A. Winter, Ormond Somerville, W. J. Hannah, Clayton T. Tullis, J. Winter Thorington, E. Perry Thomas, William M. E. Ellsberry, J.H. Naftel, W. B. Kelly and Miss Mae Harris.
The missile failed, and Respectability, after bestowing a slightly injured look upon the clerk, followed his master. In the office the red-bearded man sat waiting. Not so red-bearded as of yore, however, was Mr. Sheehan, but grizzled and gray, and, this morning, gray of face, too, as he sat, perspiring and anxious, wiping a troubled brow with a black silk handkerchief.
He rose to his feet, standing straight and quiet, facing the table, upon which, it chanced, there lay a copy of the Tocsin. "Und yet," observed Mr. Farbach, with mildness, "we got some pooty risbecdable men right here." "Except me," broke in Mr. Sheehan, grimly, "you have." "Have you thought of this?" Joe leaned forward and touched the paper upon the table. "We hef," replied Mr. Farbach.
Sheehan, who, though he spoke not, exhibited tokens of agitation and excitement which he curbed with difficulty; shifting about in his chair, gnawing his cigar, crossing and uncrossing his knees, rubbing and slapping his hands together, clearing his throat with violence, his eyes fixed all the while, as were those of his companions, upon Mr.
He felt himself dying of the horror of this unnatural combat, when there was a whisper at his ear. Dimly he seemed to hear Ellen's voice; dimly turning his failing eyes he seemed to recognise her eyes under the veil of ashen fair hair. 'Draw him to the left on the grass, said the voice, 'and trip him. His old love and his old jealousy surged up in Mike Sheehan.
A telegram came to the telegraph station after I left last trip, and young Jack Sheehan, he brought it on after me rode a hundred miles pretty well, to ketch me up. He reckoned she was coming in for a hundred thousand pounds. I wouldn't mind marryin' her meself, if it's true; plenty worse-looking sorts than her about. What do you think, eh, Mister?" addressing Considine.
"She's perfectly priceless. I wish she'd be as careful of Margot and Pete. I wish we could lure her to New York. She's worth twenty city servants." "Her theory is that if she stays here there's some one to see that Pat Sheehan doesn't neglect what does she call San's pony?" Rawling asked. "The little horse. Yes, she told me she'd trample the face off Pat if Shelty came to harm.
But as Mike Sheehan ascended the steps out of the midnight dark he felt no fear. He clanged the gate of the sacred quiet place in a way that set the silence echoing. The moon was high overhead, and was shining straight down on the square enclosure with its little heaped mounds and ancient stones.
He prepares a vexing responsibility for himself if he is sensitive. In the next room to Leader was a fellow-enthusiast, Mr. Smith Sheehan, an ex-officer of Pontifical Zouaves, and son of a popular and eccentric town-councillor of Cork. He was an agile stripling, skilled in all gymnastic exercises.
As Sheehan mounted the coal, he caught a glimpse of one of the desperadoes on top of the car and yelled to Ketchel and Jim who jumped just in the nick of time, and by sheer luck not uncommon in battles, escaped unhurt. As for the fireman he took a novel way of making his escape, by diving into the shelving bank of coal and letting it slide over him.
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