ington
protested.
"You can leave the machinery to me," said the senator wisely. "I'll
set the wheels going. It will be as easy as sliding down hill. I'll
give you my word, if you land in the City Hall, to send you to
Washington with the next Congress. Will you accept the nomination, in
case I swing it around to you in September? It's a big thing. All you
literary boys are breaking into politics. This is your chance."
"I'll take the night to think it over," said Warrington. He was vastly
flattered, but he was none the less cautious and non-committal.
"Take a week, my boy; take a week. Another thing. You are intimate
with young Bennington. He's a hard-headed chap and doesn't countenance
politics in his shops. The two of you ought to bring the hands to
their senses. If we can line up the Bennington steel-mills, others
will fall in. Bennington owns the shops, but our friend McQuade owns
the men who work there. Take a week to think it over; I can rely on
your absolute secrecy."
"I shall be silent for half a dozen reasons," Warrington replied. "But
I shan't keep you waiting a week. Call me up by 'phone to-morrow at
any time between five and six. I shall say yes or no, direct."
"I like to hear a man talk like that."
"I can't get the idea into my head yet. I never expected to meddle
with politics in this town."
"We'll do the meddling for you. Even if you accept, we shall require
silence till the convention. It will be a bomb in the enemy's camp.
You'll come around to the idea. Between five and six, then?"
"I shall have your answer ready. Good night."
The senator took himself off, while Warrington ordered a bottle of
beer and drank it thoughtfully. Mayor! It would be a huge joke indeed
to come back to Herculaneum to rule it. He chuckled all the way home
that night; but when his head struck the pillow he saw the serious
side of the affair. He recalled the old days when they sneered at him
for selling vegetables; and here they were, coming to him with the
mayoralty. It was mighty gratifying. And there was the promise of
Washington. But he knew the world: political promises and pie-crusts.
What would the aunt say? What would Patty say? Somehow, he was always
thinking of Patty. He had not thought as yet to make any analysis of
his regard for Patty. He held her in the light of an agreeable
comrade, nothing more than that. Would she be pleased to see him mayor
of Herculaneum? Bah! He couldn't sleep. He got out of b
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