industry and finance. We were received with politeness, deferential
politeness, everywhere. But not a penny could we get. Everywhere the
same answer: "We can not see our way to contributing just yet. But if
you will call early next week--say Monday or Tuesday--" four or five
days away--"we'll let you know what we can do." The most ardent
eagerness to placate us, to keep us in good humor; but not a cent--until
Monday or Tuesday.

When I heard "Monday or Tuesday" for the third time, my suspicions were
rousing. When I heard it for the fifth time, I understood. Wall Street
was negotiating with the other side, and would know the result by
Monday, or at the latest Tuesday.

XXIII

IN WHICH A MOUSE HELPS A LION

I did not dare communicate my suspicions to my "dear friend" Roebuck. As
it was, with each refusal I had seen his confidence in me sink; if he
should get an inkling how near to utter disaster I and my candidate
were, he would be upon me like a tiger upon its trainer when he slips. I
reasoned out my course while we were descending from the fifth "king's"
office to our cab: If the negotiations with the opposition should be
successful, I should not get a cent; if they should fail, Wall Street
would be frantic to get its contributions into my hand; therefore, the
only sane thing to do was to go West, and make such preparations as I
could against the worst.

"Let's go back to the Holland," said I to Roebuck, in a weary, bored
tone. "These people are a waste of time. I'll start home to-night, and
when they see in the morning papers that I've left for good, they may
come to their senses. But they'll have to hunt me out. I'll not go near
them again. And when they come dragging themselves to you, don't forget
how they've treated us to-day."

Roebuck was silent, glancing furtively at me now and then, not knowing
what to think. "How is it possible to win without them?" he finally
said. "This demagogue Scarborough has set the people crazy. I can't
imagine what possesses these men of property with interests throughout
the country. They are inviting ruin."

I smiled. "My dear Roebuck," I replied, "do you suppose I'm the man to
put all my eggs into one basket--and that basket Wall Street?"

And I refused to talk any more politics with him. We dined together, I
calm and in the best of spirits; we went to a musical farce, and he
watched me glumly as I showed my lightness of heart. Then I went alone,
at midnight, to t