sely kept loose by the politicians of the Northeastern
Railroads, in order that they may play such tricks on decent men as they
have been playing on me."

At this mention of the Northeastern Railroads the lady on Mr. Crewe's
right, and some other guests, gave startled glances at Victoria. They
observed with surprise that she seemed quite unmoved.

"I'll tell you one or two of the things those railroad lobbyists have
done," said Mr. Crewe, his indignation rising with the subject, and still
addressing the baron. "They are afraid to let the people into the
caucuses, because they know I'll get the delegates. Nearly everywhere I
speak to the people, I get the delegates. The railroad politicians send
word to the town rings to hold snap caucuses' when they hear I'm coming
into a town to speak, and the local politicians give out notices only a
day before, and only to the voters they want in the caucus. In Hull the
other day, out of a population of two thousand, twenty men elected four
delegates for the railroad candidate."

"It is corruption!" cried the baron, who had no idea who Victoria was,
and a very slim notion of what Mr. Crewe was talking about.

"Corruption!" said Mr. Crewe. "What can you expect when a railroad owns a
State? The other day in Britain, where they elect fourteen delegates, the
editor of a weekly newspaper printed false ballots with two of my men at
the top and one at the bottom, and eleven railroad men in the middle.
Fortunately some person with sense discovered the fraud before it was too
late."

"You don't tell me!" said the baron.

"And every State and federal office-holder has been distributing passes
for the last three weeks."

"Pass?" repeated the baron. "You mean they fight with the fist--so? To
distribute a pass--so," and the baron struck out at an imaginary enemy.
"It is the American language. I have read it in the prize-fight. I am
told to read the prize-fight and the base-ball game."

Mr. Crewe thought it obviously useless to continue this conversation.

"The railroad," said the baron, "he is the modern Machiavelli."

"I say," Mr. Rangely, the Englishman, remarked to Victoria, "this is a
bit rough on you, you know."

"Oh, I'm used to it," she laughed.

"Mr. Crewe," said Mrs. Pomfret, to the table at large, "deserves
tremendous credit for the fight he has made, almost single-handed. Our
greatest need in this country is what you have in England, Mr. Rangely,
--gentlemen in politics.