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Updated: June 24, 2025
How could he measure Dennie's life-discipline in self-control and loving bravery? "Elinor was heavy on Wream's conscience," Vincent went on, "because he and her father, Dr. Nathan Wream, took the fortune to endow colleges and university chairs that should have been hers from her mother's estate. You see, Dennie, there was no wrong in the plan. Elinor would be provided for by me.
Louis, and there, of course, Bassett, as usual, was much fêted and went out a great deal, lunching with people and so on. One day he came to me, 'By-the-bye, Dennie! he said, 'I met that Mr. Marston Greyle today who sent me that romantic one-act thing. He wanted to know if I'd read it, and I had to confess that it was in your hands. Have you looked at it? I, too, had to confess I hadn't.
I tell you this ground is shaking. I feel it," Trench insisted. "Say, who's got the bromo-seltzer? The right guard's supper is n't treating him right. Go ahead, Dennie," the crowd urged. They were all in a circle about the fire. Its flickering glow lighted Vic Burleigh's rugged face, and gleamed in his auburn hair. Elinor sat between him and Vincent Burgess.
Dennie these funds I hold I have never quite understood, but I had felt sure there was no other claimant. There was a clause in the strangely-worded bequest: 'for V. B. and his heirs.
"Yes, I understand," Dennie said, with downcast eyes. "Pardon me, Dennie, I would not hurt your feelings." His voice was very gentle, and Dennie looked up gratefully. "On that night your father made me promise made me hold up my hand and swear I'm easily forced, you will think to look after you if he were taken away. I did it to pacify him, not to ever embarrass you.
Their saloons were not far apart as to distance, and each felt that his business, as well as his political future, depended on his success in this campaign. A third candidate, a Republican, was in the field, but small attention was paid to him. A few days after Dennie and The Croak had their chance meeting in Houston Street, Dennie walked into Colonel Boozy's saloon.
All I know is that the Republican candidate was elected, and a Central Office detective who haunts the Forty-second Street depot reported at Headquarters on Election Day night that he had seen Dennie McCafferty, wearing evening dress and a single glass in his left eye, and Tozie Monks, The Croak, dressed as Dennie's valet, board the six o'clock train for Chicago and the West. Mr.
"Don't be goin' yet, Dennie," he said. "I want ter talk this bizness over wid ye. Come intil the back room, Dennie." They adjourned into a little private room at the rear of the bar, and the Alderman drew from a closet a bottle of wine, a couple of glasses, and a box of cigars. "Dennie," he said nervously, "we must bate 'em. That Dootch pookah aint the fool he looks.
And his usual tastes don't lie in that direction." "Ah!" observed Mr. Dennie, musingly. "Bad sign, ma'am, bad sign! Looks as if he had been shall we say put up to overstudying his part. That's possible! I have known men who were so anxious to be what one calls letter-perfect, Mr. Copplestone, that though they knew their parts, they didn't know how to play them. Fact, sir!"
And the lonely woman, overcome with joy, sat white and still beneath the white moonbeams. Joy does not kill any more than sorrow. Vincent Burgess and Dennie Saxon, who came just at the right time, told how they had waited with Bug at the slab of stone by the bend in the river until they should be needed. "It was Dennie who planned it all," Vincent said, "and did not even let me know.
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