out the sunset, although Jethro was watching it from behind the
curtains.

"If you are willing to undertake this fight against consolidation," said
Mr. Balch, "we are ready to talk business with you."

"D-don't know what you're going to, do," answered Jethro; "I'm going to
prevent consolidation, if I can."

"All right," said Balch, smiling. He regarded this reply as one of
Jethro's delicate euphemisms. "We're prepared to give that same little
retainer."

Jethro did not look up. Mr. Balch went to the table and seized a pen and
filled out a check for an amount that shall be nameless.

"I have made it payable to bearer, as usual," he said, and he handed it
to Jethro.

Jethro took it, and absently tore it into little pieces, and threw the
pieces on the floor. Mr. Balch watched him in consternation. He began to
think the report that Jethro had reached his second childhood was true.

"What in Halifax are you doing, Bass?" he cried.

"W-want to stop this consolidation, don't you--want' to stop it?"

"Certainly I do."

"G-goin' to do all you can to stop it hain't you?"

"Certainly I am."

"I-I'll help you," said Jethro.

"Help us!" exclaimed Balch. "Great Scott, we want you to take charge of
it."

"I-I'll do all I can, but I won't guarantee it--w-won't guarantee it,"
said Jethro.

"We don't ask you to guarantee it. If you'll do all you can, that's
enough. You won't take a retainer?"

"W-won't take anything," said Jethro.

"You mean to say you don't want anything for your for your time and your
services if the bill is defeated?"

"T-that's about it, Ed. Little p-private matter with both of us. You
don't want consolidation, and I don't. I hain't offered to give you a
retainer--have I?"

"No," said the astounded Mr. Balch. He scratched his head and fingered
the leaves of his check-book. The captains over the tens and the captains
over the hundreds would want little retainers--and who was to pay these?
"How about the boys?" asked Mr. Balch.

"S-still got the same office in the depot--hain't you, Ed, s-same
office?"

"Yes."

"G-guess the boys hev b'en there before," said Jethro.

Mr. Balch went away, meditating upon those sayings, and took the train
for Boston. If he had waked up of a fine morning to find himself at the
head of some benevolent and charitable organization, instead of the "Down
East" Railroad, he could not have been more astonished than he had been
at the unaccountable change of heart o