But to-day their temper was different, and as he paused a moment, looking down on the upturned, laughing faces, with a hundred jocular and congratulatory salutations shouted up at him, somebody started a cheer, and it was taken up with thunderous good-will.
There followed the interrogation customary in such emergencies, and the anxious inquirer was informed by four or five hundred people simultaneously that Joe Louden was all right.
"HEAD HIM OFF!" bellowed Mike Sheehan, suddenly darting up the steps.The shout increased, and with good reason, for he stepped quickly back within the doors; and, retreating through the building, made good his escape by a basement door.
He struck off into a long detour, but though he managed to evade the crowd, he had to stop and shake hands with every third person he met.As he came out upon Main Street again, he encountered his father.
"Howdy do, Joe?" said this laconic person, and offered his hand.They shook, briefly."Well,"he continued, rubbing his beard, "how are ye?""All right, father, I think.""Satisfied with the verdict?"
"I'd be pretty hard to please if I weren't," Joe laughed.
Mr.Louden rubbed his beard again."I was there," he said, without emotion.
"At the trial, you mean?"
"Yes." He offered his hand once more, and again they shook."Well, come around and see us," he said.
"Thank you.I will."
"Well," said Mr.Louden, "good-day, Joe.""Good-day, father."The young man stood looking after him with a curious smile.Then he gave a slight start.Far up the street he saw two figures, one a lady's, in white, with a wide white hat; the other a man's, wearing recognizably clerical black.They seemed to be walking very slowly.
It had been a day of triumph for Joe; but in all his life he never slept worse than he did that night.