h, I'm
nothing if not outspoken, flat-footed! A lot of those signers don't see
that bottom meaning. They don't need to. But, sir, _you_ know--your
grandfather's always known--that by every instinct the Hayles, even to
the sons-in-law, are fighters. They don't know any way to succeed, in
anything, but to fight. It's the Old Hickory in them. Old Hickory always
fought, your Harry of the West has always compromised. The Hayles loathe
tact. They don't know the power of concession as you Courteneys do. And
that's why your only way to succeed with them is to _con_cede something.
Not everything, not principle--good Lord, not principle! yet something
definite, visible, conciliatory, hunh?

"Mind you, I hold no brief for them. I know those twins haven't behaved
right a minute. But no Hayle's been let into this affair, from first to
last."

The falsehood was so rash a slip that its author paused, but when Hugh's
face showed no change he resumed: "Sir, it is in your interest we ask
you to put those foreigners off. If you don't you'll rouse public
resentment up and down this river a hundred miles wide for a thousand
miles. And if, keeping them aboard, you don't put Madam Hayle and her
daughter on some other boat, and anything happens to them on this one,
you'll have Gideon Hayle and his sons--and his sons-in-law--for your
mortal enemies the rest of your lives, long or short--and with public
sympathy all on their side. Oh, I'm nothing if not outspoken! Why, my
dear boy, if you don't think I'm telling you this in friendship----"

"Call it so. But stop it, at once."

"Why--you say that--to me?"

"I do. Stop it, at once, or we'll call it----"

"Ridiculous! What will you call it, sir?"

"Mutiny. The captain has so ordered--and arranged."

The inquirer drew breath, leaned forward on an elbow, and stared. The
stare was returned. The senator began to smile. Hugh did not. The smile
grew. Hugh's gaze was fixed. The smiler smiled yet more, but in vain.
Abruptly he ha-haed.

"We'll call it that till you prove it's not," said Hugh.

"Did you ever hear of a poker face?" asked the senator.

"No, sir."

"You've got one, now; youngest I ever saw. I wish I had it--haw, haw!
Where'd you find it? I doubt if ever in your life you've had any real
contact with any real guile."

"I have," said Hugh, very quiet, very angry, yet with a joy of
disclosure, communicative at last by sheer stress of so much kept
unsaid. "And I've never got over i