Scanlan, the small,
sharp-faced, nervous, black-eyed man, seemed glad to see him once
more. After a glass or two of whisky he broached the object of
his visit.
"Say, McMurdo," said he, "I remembered your address, so l made
bold to call. I'm surprised that you've not reported to the
Bodymaster. Why haven't you seen Boss McGinty yet?"
"Well, I had to find a job. I have been busy."
"You must find time for him if you have none for anything else.
Good Lord, man! you're a fool not to have been down to the Union
House and registered your name the first morning after you came
here! If you run against him--well, you mustn't, that's all!"
McMurdo showed mild surprise. "I've been a member of the lodge
for over two years, Scanlan, but I never heard that duties were
so pressing as all that."
"Maybe not in Chicago."
"Well, it's the same society here."
"Is it?"
Scanlan looked at him long and fixedly. There was something
sinister in his eyes.
"Isn't it?"
"You'll tell me that in a month's time. I hear you had a talk
with the patrolmen after I left the train."
"How did you know that?"
"Oh, it got about--things do get about for good and for bad in
this district.
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