orm of United States Senator Whitredge,
followed by a hall boy carrying the senatorial gripsack. The senator's
face wore a look of concern which could not possibly be misinterpreted.

"How's Hilary?" were his first words.

Mr. Ridout and Mr. Manning glanced at each other.

"He's in Number Seven; you'd better take a look at him, Senator."

The senator drew breath, directed that his grip be put in the room where
he was to repose that night, produced an amber cigar-holder from a case,
and a cigar from his waistcoat pocket.

"I thought I'd better come down early," he said, "things aren't going
just as they should, and that's the truth. In fact," he added,
significantly tapping his pocket, "I've got a letter from Mr. Flint to
Hilary which I may have to use. You understand me."

"I guessed as much," said Mr. Ridout.

"Ahem! I saw young Vane going out of the hotel just now," the senator
remarked. "I am told, on pretty good authority, that under certain
circumstances, which I must confess seem not unlikely at present, he may
be a candidate for the nomination. The fact that he is in town tends to
make the circumstance more probable."

"He's just been in to see Hilary," said Mr. Ridout.

"You don't tell me!" said the senator, pausing as he lighted his cigar;
"I was under the impression that they were not on speaking terms."

"They've evidently got together now, that--" said Mr. Ridout. "I wonder
how old Hilary would feel about it. We couldn't do much with Austen Vane
if he was governor--that's a sure thing."

The senator pondered a moment.

"It's been badly managed," he muttered; "there's no doubt of that. Hunt
must be got out of the way. When Bascom and Botcher come, tell them I
want to see them in my room, not in Number Seven."

And with this impressive command, received with nods of understanding,
Senator Whitredge advanced slowly towards Number Seven, knocked, and
entered. Be it known that Mr. Flint, with characteristic caution, had not
confided even to the senator that the Honourable Hilary had had a stroke.

"Ah, Vane," he said, in his most affable tones, "how are you?"

The Honourable Hilary, who was looking over some papers, shot at him a
glance from under his shaggy eyebrows.

"Came in here to find out--didn't you, Whitredge?" he replied.

"What?" said the senator, taken aback; and for once at a loss for words.

The Honourable Hilary rose and stood straighter than usual, and looked
the senator in the