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Updated: June 13, 2025
He proceeded to do to his receipt exactly what Morrissy had done to his burn it. So long as Morrissy believed that McQuade held his signature, so long might Morrissy be trusted. It was only an idea, but it proved that the boss knew his lieutenants tolerably well. "The blackleg would sell the tomb off his father's grave," he mused, brushing the ashes from his clothes.
"Morrissy Morrissy and McQuade," said Osborne, in his whisky-roughened voice. "We've got 'em all right, Dick. Look at this," tossing a wrinkled sheet of carbon-paper on Warrington's desk. Warrington spread it out. It took him but a minute to find out the richness of his possession. "Where did you come across this?" he asked eagerly. "My niece found it in her waste-basket.
Venders were everywhere, many with hot rice and bean curd. Street cleaners in bright-red cotton jackets were busy with the mud puddles. The river swarmed with sampans and barges and launches. There was only one lifeless thing in all Shanghai that morning the German Club. In the city hospital the man Morrissy, his head in bandages, smiled feebly into Cunningham's face.
He's been drunk ever since he came back from New York. And he doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut." "I'll keep an eye on him." "He's the only man we have who can handle the dagos. I'll see you up at Dutch Hall to-night. Donnelly is making a speech there, and we'll open a few kegs of beer for the boys." When Morrissy was gone McQuade laughed softly and went to the safe again.
"You men will vote a strike. I can see that. But you'll regret it to your last day. I've nothing more to say. I helped you once when old man Bennington was alive, but I guess you've forgotten it." Ben sat down in silence. "We'll proceed with the voting," said Morrissy. Half an hour later there was a cheer. The men would go out Monday, if the demands of the committee were not acceded to.
"You all know me, boys," he began. "You bet!" "You're all right!" "Speech! Go ahead!" Jordan caught Morrissy's eye. Morrissy nodded with bad grace. Jordan spoke for half an hour. He repeated word for word what Bennington had told him. In the end he was greeted with laughter. "Very well, boys," he said, shrugging. "It's none of my business. You've never caught me lying yet.
There lay Grace Davoren, after having given birth to a child; there she lay the victim of the seducer, on the very eve of dissolution, and beside her, sitting on the bed, the unfortunate Nannie Morrissy, now a confirmed and dying maniac. "Grace," said Nannie, "you, like me, were ruined." "I was," replied Grace, in a voice scarcely audible.
Morrissy stated the case against Bennington. He used his words adroitly and spoke with the air of a man who regrets exceedingly a disagreeable duty. From his seat in the rear Jordan watched him, following each word closely. He saw that Morrissy knew his business thoroughly. "We'll get what we want, men; we always do. It isn't a matter of money; it's principle.
"Morrissy one of the squarest chaps in the world ran amuck the last minute. Tried to double-cross me, and in the rough-and-tumble that followed he was more or less banged up. We hurried him to a hospital, where he lies unconscious." "But the beads!" "Either he dropped them in the gutter, or they repose on the floor of a Chinese shop in Woosung Road. I'll be there bright and early never you fear.
And we've got to have that." "I'll do the best I can. I can stop his permit to tear down the building, if he really intends to do that." "It will be a good day's work for you." "I'll act this very afternoon." Once outside the mayor's office, McQuade turned to Morrissy. "Where's that receipt you promised on oath?" "Haven't you got it?" asked Morrissy, feigning surprise.
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