“But I have got eight of yours now,” said Holcombe.

“That’s all right; put it in your pocket,” said the Tammany chieftain, “and smoke it after dinner.  You’ll need ’em.  They’re better than those you’ll get on the steamer, and they never went through a custom-house.”

Holcombe cleared his throat in some slight embarrassment.  “Is there anything I can do for you in New York, Meakim?” he asked.  “Anybody I can see, or to whom I can deliver a message?”

“No,” said Meakim.  “I write pretty often.  Don’t you worry about me,” he added, gratefully.  “I’ll be back there some day myself, when the law of limitation lets me.”

Holcombe laughed.  “Well,” he said, “I’d be glad to do something for you if you’d let me know what you’d like.”

Meakim put his hands behind his back and puffed meditatively on his cigar, rolling it between his lips with his tongue.  Then he turned it between his fingers and tossed the ashes over the side of the boat.  He gave a little sigh, and then frowned at having done so.  “I’ll tell you what you can do for me, Holcombe,” he said, smiling.  “Some night I wish you would go down to Fourteenth Street, some night this spring, when the boys are sitting out on the steps in front of the Hall, and just take a drink for me at Ed Lally’s; just for luck.  Will you?  That’s what I’d like to do.  I don’t know nothing better than Fourteenth Street of a summer evening, with all the people crowding into Pastor’s on one side of the Hall, and the Third Avenue L cars running by on the other.  That’s a gay sight; ain’t it now?  With all the girls coming in and out of Theiss’s, and the sidewalks crowded.  One of them warm nights when they have to have the windows open, and you can hear the music in at Pastor’s, and the audience clapping their hands.  That’s great, isn’t it?  Well,” he laughed and shook his head.  “I’ll be back there some day, won’t I,” he said, wistfully, “and hear it for myself.”

“Carroll,” said Holcombe, drawing the former to one side, “suppose I see this cabman when I reach home, and get him to withdraw the charge, or agree not to turn up when it comes to trial.”

Carroll’s face clouded in an instant.  “Now, listen to me, Holcombe,” he said.  “You let my dirty work alone.  There’s lots of my friends who have nothing better to do than just that.  You have something better to do, and you leave me and my rows to others.  I like you for what you are, and not for what you can do for me.  I don’t mean that I don’t appreciate your offer, but it shouldn’t have come from an Assistant District Attorney to a fugitive criminal.”

“What nonsense!” said Holcombe.

“Don’t say that; don’t say that!” said Carroll, quickly, as though it hurt him.  “You wouldn’t have said it a month ago.”