1931 Old Waldorf Bar Days by Albert Stevens Crockett

OldWaldorf Bar Days his left eyelid, "I am afraid you are not teaching your men right." The lady looked her triumph. "All right, my dear," Boldt said to her, "I'll take care of this. Perhaps you had better retire while I lecture Killackey." As soon as the lady had left the room, Boldt shook his head after her, looked at his Wine Steward, and chuckled. "Michael," he said to Killackey, "I think I owe you two hundred dollars!" And Killackey got the money. Killackey, who had.left the Waldorf before the War, came to a tragic end some time after we had got in to the European mixup. Against the wishes and the efforts of his family and his nephew, John Killackey, who had now become the hotel's cashier, Michael had prevailed upon the direc– tors of the Knights of Columbus to send him to France, and he made the trip over and back several times. On the day he was due to sail the last time, he reached the pier after the transport had got away. A newspaper man put him on a tug and they chased downstream after the big vessel. Once alongside, Killackey started to mount the Jacob's ladder, burdened as he was with a heavy bag. Near ·the top, he missed his footing. In his fall, he struck against the tug's rail, breaking three of his ribs. He pounded .off into the water. Up he bobbed, spluttering. "I'll make that blank– blank boat yet," he cried, and struck out for her. Sailors grabbed hi~ and tied him about with ropes. They fished him out, hauled him up the transport's side and took him to the ship's hospital, where army sur– geons la-bored over hitn.