ith he valued, of course, but he felt that it would not
do to accept it with too much ardour. He was, he said, a very busy man.

"That's the trouble with most people," declared Mr. Crewe; "they won't
take the time to bother about politics, and then they complain when
things don't go right. Now I'm givin' my time to it, when I've got other
large interests to attend to."

On his way back to the Pelican, young Tom halted several times
reflectively, as certain points in this conversation which he seemed to
have missed at the time--came back to him. His gratitude to Mr. Crewe
as a public benefactor was profound, of course; but young Tom's sense of
humour was peculiar, and he laughed more than once, out loud, at nothing
at all. Then he became grave again, and went into the hotel and wrote a
long letter, which he addressed to Mr. Austen Vane.

And now, before this chapter which contains these memorable events is
closed, one more strange and significant fact is to be chronicled. On
the evening of the day which saw Mr. Crewe triumphantly leading the
insurgent forces to victory, that gentleman sent his private secretary
to the office of the State Tribune to leave an order for fifty copies
of the paper to be delivered in the morning. Morning came, and the fifty
copies, and Mr. Crewe's personal copy in addition, were handed to him
by the faithful Waters when he entered his dining room at an early hour.
Life is full of disillusions. Could this be the State Tribune he held
in his hand? The State Tribune of Mr. Peter Pardriff, who had stood so
staunchly for Mr. Crewe and better things? Who had hitherto held the
words of the Leith statesman in such golden estimate as to curtail
advertising columns when it was necessary to print them for the public
good?

Mr. Crewe's eye travelled from column to column, from page to page,
in vain. By some incredible oversight on the part of Mr. Pardriff, the
ringing words were not there,--nay, the soul-stirring events of that
eventful day appeared, on closer inspection, to have been deliberately
edited out! The terrible indignation of the righteous arose as Mr.
Crewe read (in the legislative proceedings of the day before) that the
Pingsquit bill had been discussed by certain members--of whom he was
one--and passed. This was all--literally all! If Mr. Pardriff had lived
in the eighteenth century, he would probably have referred as casually
to the Boston massacre as a street fight--which it was.

Pro