"Thanks," he said, and sighed.
The two aldermen had returned from their little conference.
"Your riverence," began McQuirk hesitatingly, "might we have a word with you—in private?" He looked suspiciously at the workman. The priest went with them a little way apart.
"We know about that," McQuirk pointed to the bundle.
"You do, do you?" said the priest sharply.
"Yes, Father," Bretzinger said. "It's—it's—well, it belongs to the company, sir."
"What company?"
"Well, you know, the new ga—ah, that is, Mr. Baldwin, the lawyer. You know him?"
"George R.?" asked Father Daugherty.
"Yes, your riverence," said both men hopefully. "It should go back to him."
The priest looked at them, and they caught again that amused expression in his face. It put them ill at ease, and it roused resentment in Bretzenger, who felt that this calm priest could read him too well.
"None of it belongs to you, then, I suppose?" observed Father Daugherty.
