Page:Hopkinson Smith--Tom Grogan.djvu/167

 the contract to Grogan. Neither would they forget the trustees at the next election. As to that “smart Alec” of a horse-doctor, they knew how to fix him. Suppose it had struck nine and the polls had closed, what right had he to keep McGaw from handing in his other bid? (Both were higher than Tom's. This fact, however, McGaw had never mentioned.)

Around the tenements the interest was no less marked. Mr. Moriarty had sent the news of Tom's success ringing through O'Leary's, and Mrs. Moriarty, waiting outside the barroom door for the pitcher her husband had filled for her inside, had spread its details through every hallway in the tenement.

“Ah, but Tom's a keener,” said that gossip. “Think of that little divil Cully jammed behind the door with her bid in his hand, a-waitin' for the clock to get round to two minutes o' nine, an' that big stuff Dan McGaw sittin' inside wid two bids up his sleeve! Oh, but she's cunnin', she is! Dan's clean beat. He'll niver haul a shovel o' that stone.”

“How'll she be a-doin' a job like that?”