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He could with difficulty see the door of his counting-room. This slammed behind him as he entered; and a few seconds after, Mr. James received a summons through McMurtagh that Mr. James Bowdoin wished to see him. "An' don't ye mind if Mr. James Bowdoin is a bit sharp-set the morn," said Jamie McMurtagh. Mr. James nodded; then he went in to his father.

The old gentleman breathed a sigh of relief. "He has, sir." "Where is McMurtagh?" "I don't know, sir." "Where is St. Clair?" "Have you a citation for him?" The officer winked. "Can you tell me where to find him?" Mr. Bowdoin saw his chance. "Yes, sir; I can, sir.

And Miss Sadie, as now they called her, for she objected to the name of Mercy, and nothing but Sadie could her friends make out of Mercedes, Sadie, to please McMurtagh, consented. But when the Sunday came, poor Hughson, who looked well enough in week-day clothes, became, to her quick eye, impossible in black. "You see, Sadie, I am bright and early, to be your beau."

Jamie McMurtagh still continued his rather sidelong gait as he walked twice daily up State Street to the Old Colony Bank, bearing in a rusty leathern wallet anything, from nothing to a hundred thousand dollars, the daily notes and discounts of James Bowdoin's Sons. James Bowdoin and his father used to watch him occasionally from the window.

Jamie dropped his voice quickly on the last words, so that they were inaudible to Mr. James Bowdoin, who had suddenly laughed. Old Mr. Bowdoin turned angrily upon his son. But Jamie's face had turned to white. He rose respectfully. "Don't say anything, sir. I have had my answer." "Forgive me, Mr. McMurtagh," said James Bowdoin the younger. "I'm sure she could not have a kinder husband. But"

The old gentleman's mind was running on McMurtagh; and a robuster grin than usual encouraged even others than his chartered pensioners to come up to him for largess. Mr. Bowdoin's eyes wandered from the orange-woman to the telescope-man, and thence to an old elm with one gaunt dead limb that stretched out over the dawn.

And he and his father talked it over, and decided that the child might as well stay with McMurtagh, for the present at any rate. But that "present" was long in passing; for the pirates were duly tried, and all but one of them found guilty, sentenced to be hanged, and duly executed on an island in the harbor. Pity the town has not kept up those tactics with its railways!

Bowdoin bolted down the stairs. So Mr. Bowdoin hurried up the street to the bank, half chuckling, half angry, still. And then he went back to the bank, and asked if Mr. Harleston Bowdoin had got there yet. Mr. Stanchion told him no. By that time it was after eleven. But Mr. Old Mrs. Hughson met him at the door, grateful and tearful. Yes, young Mr. She feared poor McMurtagh was very ill.

And they had fought, rushing in before the pirate's long-range guns could get to work, in the early dawn, and boarding; so now there was talk of prize money. Young James Bowdoin and McMurtagh were all eyes.

Hughson, a large Yankee person, mother to John. "Just one dance first, Mercy; show the lady," said old Mrs. McMurtagh. But Mercedes was offended at being called a little tot, and pouted her lip. "Come here, dearie," said Jamie. She went to him; and while he held her with his left hand awkwardly, he pulled a tiny pair of gloves from his pocket. Mercedes seized them quickly, and kissed him for it.