r, can you doubt? Your resplendent gonfalon, if I may so
express myself, has ever been Victory's chosen perch."

"I've pulled a majority hitherto."

"And you will, you will. In fact"--his voice fell--"we think it such a
foregone conclusion that one of my friends who is looking over the
prospective House wants to make your acquaintance. You're sure to
jibe. He's interested in the unlucky River and Harbor scheme."

"Oh."

Krantz looked out at him from underneath his saurian lids, and blew a
smoke ring toward the rococo ceiling.

"Through an option or two I'm rather interested myself," he continued
smoothly. "I'd like to see every good man indorse a good thing. I
haven't been told what your opinion is." Getting no answer, he added:
"Of course we expect to pull the thing off in this winter's session.
If not, then the fight goes into your House. Between ourselves, just
where do you stand?"

"You don't need to be told that it's a gigantic job."

Krantz's benevolent features expressed blandest regret.

"Now isn't it a pity that misconception should be so widespread?" he
exclaimed, apparently to the writhing ornaments of the ceiling. "Isn't
it a pity? But it's so often true! Take that street railway bill of
yours last winter: how that enlightened measure was denounced!"

Shelby scowled.

"We're talking of Washington."

"They've a lot in common, Albany and Washington."

"I don't want them to have for me."

Krantz laughed.

"How reform does drop its gentle influence round! Has the fusion
movement in Tuscarora converted you?"

"No," Shelby answered. "I've grown."

Krantz looked bewildered, laughed a little, and asked point-blank,
"Shall you come out against us?"

"You'll know in Washington."

"If elected," qualified the man.

"Naturally."

Krantz rang up the porter to ask if his berth were ready, rose, yawned,
and shed a benevolent smile.

"From things they're beginning to say about Tuscarora down at
headquarters," he remarked impersonally, "I venture to predict that
we'll know within twenty-four hours. Good night."

The River and Harbor bogy wove the pattern of Shelby's troubled dreams.
In a way, he had grown, as he liked to think, and by this touchstone he
knew it best. Whatever his practice, his quickened ideals were loftier
than of old, and across the future's broader field, should it be his to
till, the man was honestly ambitious to trace a straighter furrow than
his ploughshare ha