Page:MacGrath--The luck of the Irish.djvu/218



ND that's what happened, sister," he said, later. "It can't be done, it can't be done. I'm going along with the Ajax, and that's all there is to it."

"I could shake you!" she cried, hysterically.

"Don't try it, sister; I'm not stuck together very well this morning."

"I knew you'd been hurt; and once I was sure that you were dead. How I have worried! You deserve a shaking," she repeated. It was a case of talk or cry.

"Believe me, I got the shaking all right."

"Your poor head!"

"Some little old good-night sign they hung on me—huh?"

"But you promised me—"

"Guilty as charged! And, say, of all the punk dancing I ever saw, those dames beat the clock! There used to be a bear out at the Bronx; he had the rheumatism, and for a peanut he'd dance those skirts to a standstill. Now, don't you worry about my head. It's solid ivory. But I wish you could have seen the Arab kid frisk my pockets. It was worth two dollars a seat, standing room only. The little rat never batted an eye-winker. Well,