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Updated: May 3, 2025
Susan was still more indignant when, the next morning, the same programme was repeated except for the fact that Susan's reminders of John McGuire's presence on the back porch were even more pointed than they had been on the day before. Again the third morning it was the same. Susan resolved then to speak.
Time justified his faith, in a small way, and now McGuire's store was famed for leagues and leagues about, for he dared to take chances with all manner of novelties, and the curious, when their pocketbooks were full, went to McGuire's to find inspiration.
Indeed, they had been practically barren, for they had told me little more than Courtney's cablegram. Edwards, the witness named in the certificate, had not been located, though New York had been scraped as with a fine-tooth comb; so, it was safe to assume his existence was only on paper and in Alderman McGuire's brain.
Susan caught the full force of the sarcasm, but superbly she ignored it. "Well, I don't know maybe; but, anyhow, he don't, an' Mis' McGuire's that worried she don't know what to do. You see, she found him once with his daddy's pistol" Susan was talking very fast now "an' 'course that worked her up somethin' terrible. I'm afraid he hain't got much backbone.
"Well," he snapped, "what's up? Too late for business. I'm closin' up." The two quite disregarded him. Their eyes were wandering calmly about the place, and now they rested on the pride of McGuire's store. The figure of a man in evening clothes, complete from shoes to gloves and silk hat, stood beside a girl of wax loveliness.
Your father he could do it I know he could!" "Do what?" "Take down John McGuire's story. Couldn't he do it?" "Why, y-yes, he could, I think," hesitated Keith doubtfully. But Susan, John McGuire wouldn't TELL it to HIM. Don't you see? He won't even see anybody but me, and he didn't talk like this even to me until to-day. How's dad going to hear it to write it down? Tell me that?"
Susan did fancy, however, that she saw a new tenseness in Keith's face, a new nervousness in his manner; but that, perhaps, was because she was watching him so closely, and because he was so constantly in her mind, owing to her apprehension as to how he would take the news of John McGuire's blindness. From the very first Susan had determined not to tell her news until after Mr.
The Titanic was far and away the largest and finest vessel ever built, excepting only her sister-ship, the Olympic. insisted Mr. Ismay, shoving the bill in McGuire's hand. I am well able to afford it. I will see to it that the boys of the Carpathia are well rewarded for this night's work. This promise started McGuire making inquiries as to the identity of the man he had waited on.
Curtis Raidler interrogated an enormous gold watch, and laid his hand on McGuire's shoulder. "Come on, bud," he said. "We got three minutes to catch the train." Sarcasm seemed to be McGuire's vein. "You ain't seen me cash in any chips or call a turn since I told you I was broke, a minute ago, have you? Friend, chase yourself away."
The project was already the talk of the town, and not the least excited and interested of the observers was John McGuire's mother. When the news came of the second table's being added to the equipment of the place, she hurried over to Susan's kitchen without delay though with the latest poem of her son's as the ostensible excuse. "It's 'The Stumbling-Block," she announced.
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