"Yes. The railroad had to give us all fresh uniforms. So we made new toggery out of that night's work. I've heard people say militia are no good. If they could have stood by me that night, and seen my company working over those blazing cars, in that ma.s.s of burning freight, with the roof liable to fall any minute, and the strikers firing every time a man showed himself, I think they would have altered their opinion."

"Oh," said Leonore, her eyes flashing with enthusiasm. "How splendid it is to be a man, and be able to do real things! I wish I had known about it in Europe."

"Why?"

"Because the officers were always laughing about our army. I used to get perfectly wild at them, but I couldn't say anything in reply. If I could only have told them about that."

"Hear the little Frenchwoman talk," said Watts.

"I'm not French."

"Yes you are, Dot."

"I'm all American. I haven't a feeling that isn't all American. Doesn't that make me an American, Peter, no matter where I was born?"

"I think you are an American under the law."

"Am I really?" said Leonore, incredulously.

"Yes. You were born of American parents, and you will be living in this country when you become of age. That const.i.tutes nationality."

"Oh, how lovely! I knew I was an American, really, but papa was always teasing me and saying I was a foreigner. I hate foreigners."

"Confound you, chum, you've spoiled one of my best jokes! It's been such fun to see Dot bristle when I teased her. She's the hottest little patriot that ever lived."

"I think Miss D'Alloi's nationality is akin to that of a case of which I once heard," said Peter, smiling. "A man was bragging about the number of famous men who were born in his native town. He mentioned a well-known personage, among others, and one of his auditors said: 'I didn't know he was born there,' 'Oh, yes, he was,' replied the man. 'He was born there, but during the temporary absence of his parents!'"

"Peter, how much does a written opinion cost?" asked Leonore, eagerly.

"It has a range about equal to the woman's statement that a certain object was as long as a piece of string."

"But your opinions?"

"I have given an opinion for nothing. The other day I gave one to a syndicate, and charged eight thousand dollars."

"Oh, dear!" said Leonore. "I wonder if I can afford to get your opinion on my being an American? I should like to frame it and hang it in my room. Would it be expensive?"

"It is usual with lawyers," said Peter gravely, "to find out how much a client has, and then make the bill for a little less. How much do you have?"

"I really haven't any now. I shall have two hundred dollars on the first. But then I owe some bills."

"You forget your grandmamma's money, Dot."

"Oh! Of course. I shall be rich, Peter, I come into the income of my property on Tuesday. I forget how much it is, but I'm sure I can afford to have an opinion."

"Why, Dot, we must get those papers out, and you must find some one to put the trust in legal shape, and take care of it for you," said Watts.

"I suppose," said Leonore to Peter, "if you have one lawyer to do all your work, that he does each thing cheaper, doesn't he?"

"Yes. Because he divides what his client has, on several jobs, instead of on one," Peter told her.

"Then I think I'll have you do it all. We'll come down and see you about it. But write out that opinion at once, so that I can prove that I'm an American."

"Very well. But there's a safer way, even, of making sure that you're an American."

"What is that?" said Leonore, eagerly.

"Marry one," said Peter.

"Oh, yes," said Leonore, "I've always intended to do that, but not for a great many years."

CHAPTER XLI.

CALLS.

Peter dressed himself the next evening with particular care, even for him. As Peter dressed, he was rather down on life. He had been kept from his ride that afternoon by taking evidence in a referee case. "I really needed the exercise badly," he said. He had tried to work his dissatisfaction off on his clubs and dumb-bells, but whatever they had done for his blood and tissue, they had not eased his frame of mind.

Dinner made him a little pleasanter, for few men can remain cross over a proper meal. Still, he did not look happy, when, on rising from his coffee, he glanced at his watch and found that it was but ten minutes past eight.

He vacillated for a moment, and then getting into his outside trappings, he went out and turned eastward, down the first side street. He walked four blocks, and then threw open the swing door of a brilliantly lighted place, stepping at once into a blaze of light and warmth which was most attractive after the keen March wind blowing outside.

He nodded to the three barkeepers. "Is Dennis inside?" he asked.

"Yes, Misther Stirling. The regulars are all there."

Peter pa.s.sed through the room, and went into another without knocking.

In it were some twenty men, sitting for the most part in att.i.tudes denoting ease. Two, at a small table in the corner, were playing dominoes. Three others, in another corner, were amusing themselves with "High, Low, Jack." Two were reading papers. The rest were collected round the centre table, most of them smoking. Some beer mugs and tumblers were standing about, but not more than a third of the twenty were drinking anything. The moment Peter entered, one of the men jumped to his feet.

"B'ys," he cried, "here's Misther Stirling. Begobs, sir, it's fine to see yez. It's very scarce yez been lately." He had shaken hands, and then put a chair in place for Peter.

The cards, papers, and dominoes had been abandoned the moment Dennis announced Peter's advent, and when Peter had finished shaking the hands held out to him, and had seated himself, the men were all gathered round the big table.

Peter laid his hat on the table, threw back his Newcastle and lit a cigar. "I've been very short of time, Dennis. But I had my choice this evening before going uptown, of smoking a cigar in my own quarters, or here. So I came over to talk with you all about Denton."

"An' what's he been doin'?" inquired Dennis.

"I saw him to-day about the Hummel franchise that comes up in the Board next Tuesday. He won't vote for it, he says. I told him I thought it was in the interest of the city to multiply means of transit, and asked him why he refused. He replied that he thought the Hummel gang had been offering money, and that he would vote against bribers."

"He didn't have the face to say that?" shouted one of the listeners.

"Yes."

"Oi never!" said Dennis. "An' he workin' night an' day to get the Board to vote the rival road."

"I don't think there's much doubt that money is being spent by both sides," said Peter. "I fear no bill could ever pa.s.s without it. But the Hummel crowd are really responsible people, who offer the city a good percentage. The other men are merely trying to get the franchise, to sell it out at a profit to Hummel. I don't like the methods of either, but there's a road needed, and there'll be a road voted, so it's simply a choice between the two. I shouldn't mind if Denton voted against both schemes, but to say he'll vote against Hummel for that reason, and yet vote for the other franchise shows that he's not square. I didn't say so to him, because I wanted to talk it over with the ward a little first to see if they stood with me."