to
work and see if you can't think of something good the administration
has done and dwell on that."

"Whew!"

"Well, I'm off."

"But Annie, about the wedding?"

"Good-morning, we'll talk about the wedding after the convention."

The door closed on her last words, and Joseph Aldrich sat there
wondering and dazed at her manner. Then he began to think about the
administration. There must be some good things to say for it, and he
would find them. Yes, Annie was right--and wasn't she a hustler
though?

PART II

It was on the morning of the 22d and near nine o'clock, the hour at
which the convention was to be called to order. But Mr. Gray of Ohio
had not yet gone in. He stood at the door of the convention hall in
deep converse with another man. His companion was a young looking
sort of person. His forehead was high and his eyes were keen and
alert. The face was mobile and the mouth nervous. It was the face of
an enthusiast, a man with deep and intense beliefs, and the boldness
or, perhaps, rashness to uphold them.

"I tell you, Gray," he was saying, "it's an outrage, nothing less.
Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Bah! It's all twaddle.
Why, we can't even be secure in the first two, how can we hope for the
last?"

"You're right, Elkins," said Gray, soberly, "and though I hold a
position under the administration, when it comes to a consideration of
the wrongs of my race, I cannot remain silent."

"I cannot and will not. I hold nothing from them, and I owe them
nothing. I am only a bookkeeper in a commercial house, where their
spite cannot reach me, so you may rest assured that I shall not bite
my tongue."

"Nor shall I. We shall all be colored men here together, and talk, I
hope, freely one to the other. Shall you introduce your resolution
to-day?"

"I won't have a chance unless things move more rapidly than I expect
them to. It will have to come up under new business, I should think."

"Hardly. Get yourself appointed on the committee on resolutions."

"Good, but how can I?"

"I'll see to that; I know the bishop pretty well. Ah, good-morning,
Miss Kirkman. How do you do, Aldrich?" Gray pursued, turning to the
newcomers, who returned his greeting, and passed into the hall.

"That's Miss Kirkman. You've heard of her. She fetches and carries for
Luther Hamilton and his colleagues, and has been suspected of doing
some spying, also."

"Who was that with her?"

"Oh, that's her man Friday;