on to
him somehow," urged Dodd, with fury. "Go after him. And when we get him
good and proper I want to do some gloating through the bars. He's the
first man who ever smacked my face for me--and I'll see that he gets
his."

He left Mr. Mullaney stowing the money away in a big wallet which was
stuffed with newspaper clippings. He hurried in to the bar, gulped
down a drink, and then went to the office desk and examined the hotel
register. Anger and zest for revenge were stimulating in him a lively
interest in that meeting which Farr seemed to be promoting. Mr. Dodd
did not care especially what kind of meeting it was. He had set forth to
camp on Walker Farr's trail and do him what hurt he could.

Dodd was a well-posted political worker. The names of the men were not
names especially prominent in state politics, but his suspicions were
stirred when he saw that all counties in the state were represented.
And no more were arriving. He decided that the conference must be in
session.

Dodd avoided the elevator. He tramped up the broad stairs to the floor
above the office. The doors of the large parlor were closed. He turned
the knob cautiously; the doors were locked. He heard within the dull
mumble of many voices--men in conversation. It was evident that the
formal meeting, whatever it might be, had not begun its session. He
tiptoed away from the door and climbed another flight of stairs.

There were no nooks and corners of the old National Hotel which Richard
Dodd did not understand in all their intricacies. As his uncle's
political scout it had been his business to know them.

He hunted along the corridor until he found a maid.

"Is there anybody in Number 29?" he asked.

"Two of that new crowd that just came in have it, Mr. Dodd. But they
have gone down-stairs again."

He wadded a bill in his palm and jammed it into her hand. "Let me in
with your pass-key, that's a good girl. It's all right. I won't disturb
their stuff. I only want to listen. You understand! There's a political
game on. I want to get to that ventilator in the closet--you know it!"

"Oh, if it's only politics, Mr. Dodd!" she sniffed, with the scorn of a
girl who has seen many conventions come and go, knew the little tricks,
and had developed for the whole herd of politicians lofty disdain; she
knew them merely as loud-talking men who had little consideration
for hotel maids, men who littered their rooms with cigar stubs and
whisky-bottles. She star