faltered the great man. "I--I--let me think, Cyrus. I do not
wish to seem--er--arrogant in this matter. It is not usual for me to
visit my constituents, but--but--I have no engagement this evening,
and you are not well, and--Hello! are you there? Hello! Why, under the
circumstances, I think--Yes, I will come. I'll come--er--at once."

The telephone enables one to procure a cab in a short time. Yet, to
Heman Atkins, that cab was years in coming. He paced the library floor,
his hand to his forehead and his brain whirling. It couldn't be! It
must be a coincidence! He had been an idiot to display his agitation and
surrender so weakly. And yet--and yet--

The ride through the storm to the Regent Hotel gave him opportunity for
more thought. But he gained little comfort from thinking. If it was a
coincidence, well and good. If not--

A bell boy conducted him to the Whittaker room "on the saloon deck." It
was a small room, very different from the Atkins library, and Captain
Cy, in a cane-seated chair, was huddled close to the steam radiator. He
looked far from well.

"Evenin', Heman," he said as the congressman entered. "Pretty dirty
night, ain't it? What we'd call a gray no'theaster back home. Sit down.
Don't mind my not gettin' up. This heatin' arrangement feels mighty
comf'table just now. If I get too far away from it I shiver my deck
planks loose. Take off your things."

Mr. Atkins did not remove his overcoat. His hat he tossed on the bed.
He glanced fearfully at his companion. The latter's greeting had been
so casual and everyday that he took courage. And the captain looked
anything but formidable as he hugged the radiator. Perhaps things were
not so bad as he had feared. He resolved not to seem alarmed, at all
events.

"Have a cigar, Heman?" said Captain Cy. "No? Well, all right; I will, if
you don't mind."

He lit the cigar. The congressman cleared his throat.

"Cyrus," he said, "I am not accustomed to run at the beck and call of
my--er--acquaintances, but, even though we have disagreed of late, even
though to me your conduct seems quite unjustifiable, still, for the sake
of our boyhood friendship, and, because you are not well, I--er--came."

Captain Cy coughed spasmodically, a cough that seemed to be tearing him
to pieces. He looked at his cigar regretfully, and laid it on the top of
the radiator.

"Too bad," he observed. "Tobacco gen'rally iles up my talkin' machinery,
but just now it seems to make me bark