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Smith, Francis Hopkinson, 1838-1915

"Tom Grogan"


"Is any one here who represents her?" he repeated, after a pause,
rising in his seat as he spoke.
No one answered. The only sound heard in the room was that of the
heavy step of a man mounting the stairs.
"Is there any one here who can speak for Mrs. Thomas Grogan?"
called the president again, in a louder voice.
"I can," said the man with the heavy tread, who proved to be the
foreman at the brewery. "She won't live till mornin'; one of her
horses kicked her and broke her skull, so McGaw told me."
"Broke her skull! My God! man, how do you know?" demanded the
president, his voice trembling with excitement.
Every man's face was now turned toward the new-comer; a momentary
thrill of horror ran through the assemblage.
"I heard it at the druggist's. One of her boys was over for
medicine. Dr. Mason sewed up her head. He was drivin' by, on his
way to Quarantine, when it happened."
"What Dr. Mason?" asked a trustee, eager for details.
"The man what used to be at Quarantine seven years ago. He's
app'inted ag'in."
Dempsey caught up his hat and hurriedly left the room, followed by
Quigg and Crimmins. McGaw, he said to himself, as he ran
downstairs, must be blind drunk, not to come to the meeting.
"----him! What if he gives everything away!" he added aloud.


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