see," said the indomitable old Tom, when he
got his breath. "You young men think you know a sight, but you haven't
got the stuff in you we old Tellers have. Where would I be if it wasn't
for fightin'? You mark my words, before this session's ended I'll scare
h-l out of Flint--see if I don't."

Young Tom winked at his friend.

"Let's go down to supper," he said.

The dining room of the Pelican Hotel during a midweek of a busy session
was a scene of bustle and confusion not likely to be forgotten. Every
seat was taken, and gentlemen waited their turn in the marble-flagged
rotunda who had not the honour of being known to Mr. Giles, the head
waiter. If Mr. Hamilton Tooting were present, and recognized you,
he would take great pleasure in pointing out the celebrities, and
especially that table over which the Honourable Hilary Vane presided,
with the pretty, red-checked waitress hovering around it. At the
Honourable Hilary's right hand was the division superintendent, and at
his left, Mr. Speaker Doby--a most convenient and congenial arrangement;
farther down the board were State Senator Nat Billings, Mr. Ridout (when
he did not sup at home), the Honourables Brush Bascom and Elisha Jane,
and the Honourable Jacob Botcher made a proper ballast for the foot.
This table was known as the Railroad Table, and it was very difficult,
at any distance away from it, to hear what was said, except when the
Honourable Jacob Botcher made a joke. Next in importance and situation
was the Governor's Table--now occupied by the Honourable Asa Gray. Mr.
Tooting's description would not have stopped here.

Sensations are common in the Pelican Hotel, but when Austen Vane walked
in that evening between the Gaylords, father and son, many a hungry
guest laid down his knife and fork and stared. Was the younger Vane
(known to be anti-railroad) to take up the Gaylords' war against his own
father? All the indications were that way, and a rumour flew from table
to table-leaping space, as rumours will--that the Gaylords had sent to
Ripton for Austen. There was but one table in the room the occupants of
which appeared not to take any interest in the event, or even to grasp
that an event had occurred. The Railroad Table was oblivious.

After supper Mr. Tooting found Austen in the rotunda, and drew him
mysteriously aside.

"Say, Aust, the Honourable Hilary wants to see you to-night," he
whispered.

"Did he send you with the message?" Austen demanded.