had closed, what right had
he to keep McGaw from handing in his other bid? (Both were higher than
Tom's. This fact, however, McGaw had never mentioned.)

Around the tenements the interest was no less marked. Mr. Moriarty
had sent the news of Tom's success ringing through O'Leary's, and Mrs.
Moriarty, waiting outside the barroom door for the pitcher her husband
had filled for her inside, had spread its details through every hallway
in the tenement.

"Ah, but Tom's a keener," said that gossip. "Think of that little divil
Cully jammed behind the door with her bid in his hand, a-waitin' for the
clock to get round to two minutes o' nine, an' that big stuff Dan McGaw
sittin' inside wid two bids up his sleeve! Oh, but she's cunnin', she
is! Dan's clean beat. He'll niver haul a shovel o' that stone."

"How'll she be a-doin' a job like that?" came from a woman listening
over the banisters.

"Be doin'?" rejoined a red-headed virago. "Wouldn't ye be doin' it
yerself if ye had that big coal-dealer behind ye?"

"Oh, we hear enough. Who says they're in it?" rejoined a third listener.

"Pete Lathers says so--the yard boss. He was a-tellin' me man
yisterday."

On consulting Justice Rowan the next morning, McGaw and his friends
found but little comfort. The law was explicit, the justice said.
The contract must be given to the lowest responsible bidder. Tom had
deposited her certified check of five hundred dollars with the bid, and
there was no informality in her proposal. He was sorry for McGaw, but
if Mrs. Grogan signed the contract there was no hope for him. The
horse-doctor's action was right. If McGaw's second bid had been
received, it would simply have invalidated both of his, the law
forbidding two from the same bidder.

Rowan's opinion sustaining Tom's right was a blow he did not expect.
Furthermore, the justice offered no hope for the future. The law gave
Tom the award, and nothing could prevent her hauling the stone if she
signed the contract. These words rang in McGaw's ears--if she signed the
contract. On this if hung his only hope.

Rowan was too shrewd a politician, now that McGaw's chances were gone,
to advise any departure, even by a hair-line, from the strict letter of
the law. He was, moreover, too upright as a justice to advise any member
of the defeated party to an overt act which might look like unfairness
to any bidder concerned. He had had a talk, besides, with his brother
over night, and they had accord