e from uneasiness and anxiety, from a certain
lack of self-respect that was unfamiliar. Mr. Young, the Colonel
explained, was a legal light in Galesburg, near Elkington,--the Railroad
lawyer there. And when at last Mr. Young appeared he proved to be an
oily gentleman of about forty, inclining to stoutness, with one of those
"blue," shaven faces.

"Want me, Colonel?" he inquired blithely, when the door had closed
behind him; and added obsequiously, when introduced to me, "Glad to meet
you, Mr. Paret. My regards to Mr. Watling, when you go back.

"Alf," demanded the Colonel, "what do you know of this fellow Krebs?"

Mr. Young laughed. Krebs was "nutty," he declared--that was all there
was to it.

"Won't he--listen to reason?"

"It's been tried, Colonel. Say, he wouldn't know a hundred-dollar bill
if you showed him one."

"What does he want?"

"Oh, something,--that's sure, they all want something." Mr. Young
shrugged his shoulder expressively, and by a skillful manipulation
of his lips shifted his cigar from one side of his mouth to the other
without raising his hands. "But it ain't money. I guess he's got a
notion that later on the labour unions'll send him to the United States
Senate some day. He's no slouch, either, when it comes to law. I can
tell you that."

"No--no flaw in his--record?" Colonel Varney's agate eyes sought those
of Mr. Young, meaningly.

"That's been tried, too," declared the Galesburg attorney. "Say, you can
believe it or not, but we've never dug anything up so far. He's been too
slick for us, I guess."

"Well," exclaimed the Colonel, at length, "let him squeal and be d--d!
He can't do any more than make a noise. Only I hoped we'd be able to
grease this thing along and slide it through the Senate this afternoon,
before they got wind of it."

"He'll squeal, all right, until you smother him," Mr. Young observed.

"We'll smother him some day!" replied the Colonel, savagely.

Mr. Young laughed.

But as I made my way toward the State House I was conscious of a feeling
of relief. I had no sooner gained a front seat in the gallery of the
House of Representatives when the members rose, the Senate marched
gravely in, the Speaker stopped jesting with the Chaplain, and over the
Chaplain's face came suddenly an agonized expression. Folding his hands
across his stomach he began to call on God with terrific fervour, in an
intense and resounding voice. I was struck suddenly by the irony of it
all.