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Harrigan's head went back and his eyes half closed like a critic listening to an exquisite symphony. "Ah-h!" he whispered to himself. "Watch him fight!" The policemen struck the outer edge of the circle with drawn clubs, but there they stopped. They could not dent that compacted mass. The soldiers struggled manfully, but they were held at bay.
There came a moan at Harrigan's feet. He leaned over and lifted the bulk of the captain's inert body. As if through a haze he saw the chief engineer and the two mates running toward him and caught the glitter of a revolver in the hands of the first officer. The Irishman's battered lips stretched to a shapeless grin. "Help me to the captain's cabin," he said. "He's afther bein' sick."
"It is patent to me that you will go about this affair in your own way. I wish you well." "Thank you. As Miss Harrigan's confessor you doubtless know everything but the truth." The padre laughed this time. The shops were closed. The open restaurants by the water-front held but few idlers. The padre admired the young man's independence.
Oh, for a minute's rest and a piece of lemon on his parched tongue! Suddenly Courtlandt rushed him tigerishly, landing a jab which closed Harrigan's right eye. Courtlandt dropped his hands, and stepped back. His glance traveled suggestively to Harrigan's feet. He was outside the "ropes." "I beg your pardon, Mr. Harrigan, for losing my temper." "What's the odds? I lost mine. You win."
"Yes, but you got into the wrong camp. We're a poor man's paper, and this is what we live on." "There's no chance of its being 'toned down'?" "Not the slightest, I assure you." "There's no chance of Peter Harrigan's suppressing it?" "Peter Harrigan made his attempts on the Gazette long ago, my boy." "Well," said Hal, "and now tell me this will it do the work?" "In what way?"
Stand back, Cochrane, or I'll brain ye! You'll go down on your knees an' thank God that I'm with ye!" "Stand fast, Garry!" ordered Hovey. "What do you mean, Harrigan?" The Irishman laughed. Every son of Erin is an actor, and now Harrigan's laughter rang true. "What should I mean except what I said?" he answered.
The artist scowled at the Italian. "Fritz, Fritz; here, Fritz!" The dog struggled in Harrigan's hands and tore himself loose. He went clattering over the path toward the villa and disappeared into the doorway. Nothing could keep him when that voice called. He was as ardent a lover as any, and far more favored. "Oh, you funny little dog! You merry little dachel! Fritz, mustn't; let go!" Silence.
Jones might have been spared a great deal of trouble. Since the woman committed suicide " "Hold on!" cried the superintendent. "How do you account for the murder of Corbut?" "He must have found the body and robbed it. Probably he took some money and a diamond ring. There was the mark of a ring on her finger, but the ring was gone. "Corbut fled with these things. He engaged Harrigan's cab.
"I've been expecting you, Harrigan." Again that startling mildness. There is little wonder that it deceived the riverman. Listening, watching O'Mara's slack form even Fat Joe's face burned; even Archie Wickersham's dared flash in triumph. And Harrigan's went savagely exultant. "You talked out loud to me, once," he taunted. "Is it so difficult you find it now to speak up so I can hear?"
Harrigan squandered his strength in drunken rushes, his breath in screams of hate. He tore forward when the other had already stepped aside, and Steve, shaking away the blood that was trickling rivulets into his eyes, met him returning. There came a time when Harrigan's enveloping arms found him less readily; came a change when Harrigan had to stand up and fight.
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