Tim opened the door, and when they looked up and saw him it was as if they had all been clutched by the windpipes.
"Go to the devil--all of you!" exploded the new man. "Do you hear? Every mother's son of you!"
From out the silence some one at last said: "You mean, Mr. Riley, you are going to desert the party?"
"No; it doesn't mean I'm going to desert the party. Did ever you know a man who was any good to desert any party or anything, good or bad, under fire?"
"I'm glad to hear that." The chairman had come to life. "And not alone because we would lose you, eloquent though you are reported to be. So many of our people have maintained that no Irishman----"
"Cut that Irishman stuff! My chance to make a living, and my children's chance after me, I owe to this country."
"But, Mr. Riley, you are of Irish blood."
"Irish blood? You may be sure I am, and so proud of it that when I speak of it I slop over; but I'm an American citizen too. However, if you don't mind, we'll leave that for private discussion and not for political trading."
"That's all very well; but when we ask your people to make sacrifices for the principles of our party----"
"Principles of the party--slush! Save that for your platform speeches. You're in the party because there's more in it for you. I'm in it because a man who gave me a square meal when I was starving asked me to join it. And, once in a fight, I stick. I stick because I don't know how to do anything else--and I'm going to stick now. And I'm going out now to New Ireland and talk to them."
The door behind Tim opened and a smooth, carefully trained voice said: "What's this about New Ireland?"
Tim knew the voice, even before he turned to greet him. It was the tall boss, the real boss, the senior senator, the man who ordered the State committee round even as they ordered the campaign speakers.
"New Ireland?" the senator repeated. "No, Mr. Riley. I can give you something better than that. That would be a waste of time. I'll change that right now. Here----"
"Excuse me, sir; but I'm going to New Ireland. I don't know what kind of a place it is or what kind they are there, except what the name tells me, and I don't care--I'm going there. No gang of men ever picked me for an omadhaun in the morning but found out they were mistaken before night. And I'll say further"--indignation in Tim always disposed him to classic periods--"if there are those who wave the green flag to tatters at every Irish meeting, and then betray her to those who hate her, there are also those who, though they have never made a sacrifice in their lives for this country, would prevent all but their own little kind from breathing the free air of it. As for me, I've come to this city to do something; and I'll stay here until I've done it. A while ago I agreed to go to New Ireland, and to New Ireland I'm going. Good day!" And the windows rattled with the banging of the door behind him.