ve anything to say, say it now. Otherwise leave it
unsaid."

"Well, then," said the man, "your party's been tricking us, and we won't
stand it."

Peter wrote diligently.

"And we know who's back of it. It was all pie down to that dinner of
yours."

"Is that Maguire's message?" asked Peter, though with no cessation of
his labors.

"Nop," said the man. "That's the introduction. Now, we know what it
means. You needn't deny it. You're squinting at the governorship
yourself. And you've made the rest go back on Maguire, and work for you
on the quiet. Oh, we know what's going on."

"Tell me when you begin on the message," said Peter, still writing.

"Maguire's sent me to you, to tell you to back water. To stop bucking."

"Tell Mr. Maguire I have received his message."

"Oh, that isn't all, and don't you forget it! Maguire's in this for fur
and feathers, and if you go before the convention as a candidate, we'll
fill the air with them."

"Is that part of the message?" asked Peter.

"By that we mean that half an hour after you accept the nomination,
we'll have a force of detectives at work on your past life, and we'll
hunt down and expose every discreditable thing you've ever done."

Peter rose, and the man did the same instantly, putting one of his hands
on his hip-pocket. But even before he did it, Peter had begun speaking,
in a quiet, self-contained voice: "That sounds so like Mr. Maguire, that
I think we have the message at last. Go to him, and say that I have
received his message. That I know him, and I know his methods. That I
understand his hopes of driving me, as he has some, from his path, by
threats of private scandal. That, judging others by himself, he believes
no man's life can bear probing. Tell him that he has misjudged for once.
Tell him that he has himself decided me in my determination to accept
the nomination. That rather than see him the nominee of the Democratic
party, I will take it myself. Tell him to set on his blood-hounds. They
are welcome to all they can unearth in my life."

Peter turned towards his door, intending to leave the room, for he was
not quite sure that he could sustain this altitude, if he saw more of
the man. But as his hand was on the knob, Curlew spoke again.

"One moment," he called. "We've got something more to say to you. We
have proof already."

Peter turned, with an amused look on his face. "I was wondering," he
said, "if Maguire really expected to drive me with s