Sonnie-Boy's People Part 13

Tim, in short, was an orator. And when he said: "There, gentlemen, you have the story--and you know whose story it is. Poor old Nanna Nolan's--yes:" when he had said that, with arms and hands no longer gesturing, but drooping straight and motionless by his side, no one stirred--but a great sigh went up.

And not till that moment did Malone wake up to it that he had waited too long; but that moment he desperately chose to take his position at the end of the aisle and face his. .h.i.therto unbroken const.i.tuency; and while Malone was doing that Tim was motioning to Dinnie in the wings; and now Dinnie was leading her out--old Nanna Nolan, halting and bewildered, blinking at the audience--as Tim held up one hand for a last word.

"Here she is! I've tried to tell you her story, gentlemen; but there's only one living person can tell that story right, and I'm not that one.

If you could have heard her telling it--she in her little cabin on that windy hillside, before her little stove, with the dark coming down and the lights beginning to s.h.i.+ne through----"

And that instant, while Tim's arm was across her poor thin shoulders, covered as ever with the worn man's coat--that instant Malone, whose back was to the stage, chose to raise his fateful forefinger.

And Tim waited. And Malone waited.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "That two-faced chairman of yours--he never tipped me off you could fight any way except with your hands."]

Not a man left the hall.

Malone turned and faced Tim.

"You win," he said; "but that two-faced chairman of yours--and he ain't any friend of yours--he never tipped me off you could fight any way except with your hands. Speak the rest of your piece. You win!"

Back at headquarters the state chairman had been for an hour trying to extract a little comfort from the newspaper story of the New Ireland upheaval when the tall boss came in. To the boss, of course, he had to make some comment, and he made it.

"This man Riley," he began cautiously, "I've been trying to discover whether he's a Republican or a Democrat by what he says here."

"How's that?"

"He says: 'Take your leaders: and if they don't carry out your will fire 'em out! If the men you have set on high betray you,' he puts it, 'la.s.so 'em off their pedestals and set 'em on the street level again!' If that isn't----"

"--government by the people?"

"I wasn't going to say that, sir."

"Why not? Isn't that what it amounts to? Let me see your paper, please.

H-m! I don't see what there is here to object to. He is not against a party government; in fact, he's all for party. Only make sure the party leaders are honest, he says, in politics, religion, business--in everything; and if they do not live up to their promises read them their lesson. Well, why not? I think he's right. The people know more than they did and we might as well reckon with that new knowledge. The men who don't do that might as well give up the leaders.h.i.+p!"

There was a whole page of it in the New Ireland _Record_ about Tim. The senator read it all. When he at last looked up he murmured:

"Raised twelve hundred and odd dollars for the widow Nolan. That was surely well done! Two hundred and fifty votes pledged to him before he left the hall. He surely has the touch! And Malone says he's going to stick to his contracting hereafter. Good idea!"

The senator read on: "And Malone also says--also says--H-m!"

The chairman was startled out of his silence.

"I set Malone on to Riley--to fool him."

"You did!" The senator scratched his beard with his finger-nails, drew his chin in to his neck and looked over his pince-nez at the chairman.

"Too bad he misunderstood you--wasn't it? It would be so nice if we could give you the credit; but I'm afraid we'll have to hand it to Riley."

It was not said loudly; but the tone and the glint of the eyes--and the cultured boss stirred into using slang! The chairman knew that he might as well pick up his hat and go.

And he did; after he wrote out his resignation with the big boss dictating it over his shoulder.

IN THE ANCHOR WATCH

The battle-fleet, home from foreign waters, now lay, within a mile-square, emblazoned quadrangle, to placid moorings in the bay.

From the after bridge of his own s.h.i.+p Lieutenant Wickett had been observing in silence the night life of the fleet, but when from some happy quarter-deck to windward there floated down the opening strains of a mellow folk-song, he lifted his chin from arms crossed on the bridge top-rail to say to his sh.o.r.e-going friend beside him: "Were you ever able to listen to a s.h.i.+p's band over water, Carlin, and not get to feeling homesick?"

"Still the kid, aren't you? How can you be homesick and you home?"

"I'm not home--not yet."

Just below them the officer of the deck was roaming the quarter-deck. A s.h.i.+p's messenger stepped up to him, saluted and said smartly: "Two bells, sir."

"Strike 'em," came the sharp order; and as the two bells were striking, from other s.h.i.+ps, from windward and leeward, came also the quick, sharp-toned double stroke.

"Why," asked Carlin, "couldn't they strike those two bells without bothering that deck officer?"

"Regulations."

"They're the devil, those regulations, Wickett."

"Worse--sometimes. You can steer clear of the devil if you want to." He paused. "And yet it would soon be a devil of a service without 'em."

A sailor stepped up to the officer of the deck, and, saluting, said: "Anchor lights burning bright, sir."

A man in a chief petty officer's uniform stepped up to the officer of the deck, whereupon Wickett, sitting up, said: "That's our wireless operator."

"A message for Mr. Wickett, sir," came the operator's voice.

"You'll find Mr. Wickett on the after bridge," the officer of the deck said; and the wireless man came up the bridge ladder and saluted:

"You raised the _Clermont_, Wesson?" Wickett's voice was eagerly antic.i.p.atory.

"No, sir, I could not. She has no wireless."

"Oh-h!"

"But I raised the Cape station, and they reported she pa.s.sed there on schedule time."

"On time? Good! Thank you, Wesson; that's all."

"Were you expecting somebody on the _Clermont_?" asked Carlin, when the wireless man had gone.