"I'm sorry, Councillor. I'm strange to the ways of the place.
But I was advised to see you."
"Well, you see me. This is all there is. What d'you think of
me?"
"Well, it's early days. If your heart is as big as your body,
and your soul as fine as your face, then I'd ask for nothing
better," said McMurdo.
"By Gar! you've got an Irish tongue in your head anyhow," cried
the saloon-keeper, not quite certain whether to humour this
audacious visitor or to stand upon his dignity.
"So you are good enough to pass my appearance?"
"Sure," said McMurdo.
"And you were told to see me?"
"I was."
"And who told you?"
"Brother Scanlan of Lodge 341, Vermissa. I drink your health
Councillor, and to our better acquaintance." He raised a glass
with which he had been served to his lips and elevated his little
finger as he drank it.
McGinty, who had been watching him narrowly, raised his thick
black eyebrows. "Oh, it's like that, is it?" said he. "I'll
have to look a bit closer into this, Mister--"
"McMurdo."
"A bit closer, Mr. McMurdo; for we don't take folk on trust in
these parts, nor believe all we're told neither.
Pages:
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183