Tommy! What's come of the fellow, anyway? I
haven't seen him since his last bout with the mayor, on his trial for
shakin' up that fast-horse man."
"The fast-horse man got just exactly what he needed, too," said the
genial Major, laughing, and mopping his perspiring brow. "The fellow
was barkin' up the wrong stump when he tackled Tommy! Got beat in the
trade, at his own game, you know, and wound up by an insult that no
Irishman would take; and Tommy just naturally wore out the hall carpet
of the old hotel with him!"
"And then collared and led him to the mayor's office himself, they
say!"
"Oh, he did!" said the Major, with a dash of pride in the
confirmation; "that's Tommy all over!"
"Funny trial, wasn't it?" continued the ruminating Stockford.
"Wasn't it though?" laughed the Major.
"The porter's testimony: You see, he was for Tommy, of course, and on
examination testified that the horse-man struck Tommy first. And there
Tommy broke in with: 'He's a-meanin' well, yer Honor, but he's lyin'
to ye--he's lyin' to ye. No livin' man iver struck me first--nor last,
nayther, for the matter o' that!' And I
thought--the--court--would--die!" concluded the Major, in a like
imminent state of merriment.
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