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Updated: May 12, 2025
Jim looked at him thoughtfully; then he went to his buggy and drove back to the hotel. He saw that Blaney was frightened, but he evidently was too thoroughly bought up to be easily shaken. With what some men called his "gameness" Jim dropped Blaney from his mind for the moment, and began to plan for a desperate counter move.
"Strike up, Batchees, ye little angel!" shouted Blaney, the appellation a concession to the minister's presence; and away went Baptiste in a rollicking French song with the English chorus Then blow, ye winds, in the morning, Blow, ye winds, ay oh! Blow, ye winds, in the morning, Blow, blow, blow. And at each "blow" every boot came down with a thump on the plank floor that shook the solid roof.
By the way," he went on, as Blaney started to walk away, "when will you be able to talk over that business with me?" "Why, now as well as at any time, I suppose," said Blaney, after a moment's hesitation. The contractor had an office near by, and at his suggestion they went there for their conference. "How many men can you count?" he asked when they were seated.
For Blaney had not been the only one to change sides, and the result of the election had been a sweeping victory, which surprised even Jim. The stampede had caught Thompson and Wing, and the only holdings which had been voted against him were those directly represented by Porter.
"We don't have to buck him all by ourselves," he said. "We're well backed. C. & S.C. are behind us. Are you with us?" Bridge answered him steadily. "I've been waiting for a chance like this for a year," he said. "You can count me in for all I'm worth." He rose to go and held out his hand to Blaney. "Good night," he said, "and good luck to us." "So long," was the answer.
He knew the voice, sent his eyes looking and presently found her who called him. With his great lean muscular arms he sent the crowd right and left like water, and reached her in a moment. "Come! come! don't you hurt her!" shouted Mr. Blaney from the top of his box. "She ain't nothing to you. She's a old friend o' mine, an' I ain't a goin' to see her hurt."
After the second round Mr. Craig jumped upon the bench and called out: "Three cheers for Billy the cook!" In the silence following the cheers Baptiste was heard to say: "Bon! Dat's mak me feel lak hit dat puddin' all hup meself, me." "Hear till the little baste!" said Blaney in disgust. "Batchees," remonstrated Sandy gravely, "ye've more stomach than manners."
"All I want to find out is, who wrote that story in The Watchman." "That's all, is it?" said Jim. "I could have told you that downstairs. I wrote it." Then Blaney broke loose. He was working himself up to a perfect frenzy of denials, accusations, threats, and blasphemy. The man was a pitiable spectacle, and Jim, leaning back against the locked door, watched him in mingled amusement and contempt.
After the second round, Mr. Craig jumped upon the bench, and called out 'Three cheers for Billy the cook! In the silence following the cheers Baptiste was heard to say, 'Bon! dat's mak me feel lak hit dat puddin' all hup mesef, me. 'Hear till the little baste! said Blaney in disgust. 'Batchees, remonstrated Sandy gravely, 'ye've more stomach than manners.
That cough ain't a double-lunger. You run over to the clinic." "I gotta go back to the store now." "After store, then." "Free?" "Sure! Old Doc Strauss is on after five too. If I ain't too nervy I'm off after six myself. I could meet you after and we could talk over what he tells you if I ain't too nervy?" "Blaney's my name Eddie Blaney. Ask anybody round here about me.
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