desire to go to Washington then, I
have less to-day. I have come to the conclusion that my usefulness to you
is at an end."

I got to my feet. I beheld Miller Gorse sitting impassive, with his
encompassing stare, the strongest man of them all. A change of firmaments
would not move him. But Dickinson had risen and put his hand on my
shoulder. It was the first time I had ever seen him white.

"Hold on, Hugh," he exclaimed, "I guess we're all a little cantankerous
today. This confounded campaign has got on our nerves, and we say things
we don't mean. You mustn't think we're not grateful for the services
you've rendered us. We're all in the same boat, and there isn't a man
who's been on our side of this fight who could take a political office at
this time. We've got to face that fact, and I know you have the sense to
see it, too. I, for one, won't be satisfied until I see you in the
Senate. It's where you belong, and you deserve to be there. You
understand what the public is, how it blows hot and cold, and in a few
years they'll be howling to get us back, if these demagogues win.

"Sure," chimed in Grierson, who was frightened, "that's right, Hugh. I
didn't mean anything. Nobody appreciates you more than I do, old man."

Tallant, too, added something, and Berringer,--I've forgotten what. I was
tired, too tired to meet their advances halfway. I said that I had a
speech to get ready for that night, and other affairs to attend to, and
left them grouped together like crestfallen conspirators--all save Miller
Gorse, whose pervasive gaze seemed to follow me after I had closed the
door.

An elevator took me down to the lobby of the Corn Bank Building. I paused
for a moment, aimlessly regarding the streams of humanity hurrying in and
out, streaking the white marble floor with the wet filth of the streets.
Someone spoke my name. It was Bitter, Judd Jason's "legal" tool, and I
permitted myself to be dragged out of the eddies into a quiet corner by
the cigar stand.

"Say, I guess we've got Krebs's goat all right, this time," he told me
confidentially, in a voice a little above a whisper; "he was busy with
the shirt-waist girls last year, you remember, when they were striking.
Well, one of 'em, one of the strike leaders, has taken to easy street;
she's agreed to send him a letter to-night to come 'round to her room
after his meeting, to say that she's sick and wants to see him. He'll go,
all right. We'll have some fun, we'll be r