Broadway. The story was not lacking in pathos,
either, and in real human feeling, for the young reporter who wrote it
had come, not many years before, from the hills himself. But by that time
they had accomplished another marvellous span in their journey, and were
come to Washington itself.

CHAPTER IV

Cynthia was deprived, too, of that thrilling first view of the capital
from the train which she had pictured, for night had fallen when they
reached Washington likewise. As the train slowed down, she leaned a
little out of the window and looked at the shabby houses and shabby
streets revealed by the flickering lights in the lamp-posts. Finally they
came to a shabby station, were seized upon by a grinning darky hackman,
who would not take no for an answer, and were rattled away to the hotel.
Although he had been to Washington but once in his life before, as a
Lincoln elector, Jethro was greeted as an old acquaintance by this clerk
also.

"Glad to see you, Judge," said he, genially. "Train late? You've come
purty nigh, missin' supper."

A familiar of great men, the clerk was not offended when he got no
response to his welcome. Cynthia and Ephraim, intent on getting rid
of some of the dust of their journey, followed the colored hallboy
up the stairs. Jethro stood poring over the register, when a
distinguished-looking elderly gentleman with a heavy gray beard and eyes
full of shrewdness and humor paused at the desk to ask a question.

"Er--Senator?"

The senator (for such he was, although he did not represent Jethro's
state) turned and stared, and then held out his hand with unmistakable
warmth.

"Jethro Bass," he exclaimed, "upon my word! What are you doing in
Washington?"

Jethro took the hand, but he did not answer the question.

"Er--Senator--when can I see the President?"

"Why," answered the senator, somewhat taken aback, "why, to-night, if you
like. I'm going to the White House in a few minutes and I think I can
arrange it."

"T-to-morrow afternoon--t-to-morrow afternoon?"

The senator cast his eye over the swallow-tail coat and stove-pipe hat
tilted back, and laughed.

"Thunder!" he exclaimed, "you haven't changed a bit. I'm beginning to
look like an old man; but that milk-and-crackers diet seems to keep you
young, Jethro. I'll fix it for to-morrow afternoon."

"W-what time--two?"

"Well, I'll fix it for two to-morrow afternoon. I never could understand
you, Jethro; you don't do things lik