"Well, Judge," said Austen, patting his father's shoulder again, "I'm
glad to see you so comfortably fixed. Good-by, and give my regards to
the governor. I'm sorry to have missed him," he added, glancing at the
portieres that hid the folding doors.

"Are you stopping here?" asked the Honourable Hilary.

"No, I met Mr. Redbrook of Mercer, and he took me up to his lodgings. If
I can do anything for you, a message will reach me there."

"Humph," said the Honourable Hilary, while the others exchanged
significant glances.

Austen had not gone half the length of the hall when he was overtaken by
Mr. Tooting.

"Say, Aust, what's up between you and Redbrook?" he asked.

"Nothing. Why?" Austen asked, stopping abruptly.

"Well, I suppose you know there's an anti-railroad feeling growing in
that House, and that Redbrook has more influence with the farmers than
any other man."

"I didn't know anything about Mr. Redbrook's influence," said Austen.

Mr. Tooting looked unconvinced.

"Say, Aust, if anything's in the wind, I wish you'd let me know. I'll
keep it quiet."

"I think I shall be safe in promising that, Ham," said Austen. "When
there's anything in the wind, you generally find it out first."

"There's trouble coming for the railroad," said Mr. Tooting. "I can see
that. And I guess you saw it before I did."

"They say a ship's about to sink when the rats begin to leave it," said
Austen.

Although Austen spoke smilingly, Mr. Tooting looked pained.

"There's no chance for young men in that system," he said.

"Young men write the noble parts of the governor's inaugurals," said
Austen.

"Yes," said Mr. Tooting, bitterly, "but you never get to be governor and
read 'em. You've got to be a 'come on' with thirty thousand dollars to
be a Northeastern governor and live next door to the Honourable Hilary
in the Pelican. Well, so long, Aust. If anything's up, give me the tip,
that's all I ask."

Reflecting on the singular character of Mr. Tooting, Austen sought the
Gaylords' headquarters, and found them at the furthermost end of the
building from the Railroad Room. The door was opened by young Tom
himself, whose face became wreathed in smiles when he saw who the
visitor was.

"It's Austen!" he cried. "I thought you'd come down when you got that
appeal of mine."

Austen did not admit the self-sacrifice as he shook Tom's hand;
but remembered, singularly enough, the closing sentences of Tom's
letter--which had no