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"
Peter studied his blank wall a bit.
"Shure, if it's good beer Oi had," continued Moriarty, "Oi'd be afther
beatin' them all, for Oi was always popular wid the b'ys, on account of
my usin' my fists so fine."
Peter smiled. "Why don't you go into something else?" he asked.
"Well, there's mother and the three childers to be supported, an' then
Oi'd lose my influence at the primary."
"What kind of beer does Mr. Bohlmann make?" asked Peter, somewhat
irrelevantly.
"Ah," said Moriarty, "that's the fine honest beer! There's never
anythin' wrong wid his. An' he treats his keepers fair. Lets them do as
they want about keepin' open Sundays, an' never squeezes a man when he's
down on his luck."
Peter looked at his wall again. Peter was learning something.
"Supposing," he asked, "I was able to get your fine remitted, and that
clause struck out of the lease. Would you open on Sunday?"
"Divil a bit."
"When must you pay the fine?"
"Oi'm out on bail till to-morrow, sir.


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