said Austen, "and I haven't yet arrived at any conclusion."

Young Tom looked at his friend and laughed, and Mr. Gaylord, who at first
gave every indication of being about to explode with anger, suddenly
emitted a dry cackle.

"You ain't a d-n fool, anyway," he declared.

"I'm beginning to think I am," said Austen.

"Then you've got sense enough to know it," retorted old Tom. "Most of 'em
haven't." And his glance, as it fell upon the younger man, was almost
approving. Young Tom's was distinctly so.

"I told you Austen was the only lawyer who'd talk common sense to you,"
he said.

"I haven't heard much of it yet," said old Tom.

"Perhaps I ought to tell you, Mr. Gaylord," said Austen, smiling a
little, "that I didn't come down in any legal capacity. That's only one
of Tom's jokes."

"Then what in h--l did you bring him in here for?" demanded old Tom of
his son.

"Just for a quiet little powwow," said young Tom, "to make you laugh.
He's made you laugh before."

"I don't want to laugh," said old Tom, pettishly. Nevertheless, he seemed
to be visibly cooling. "If you ain't in here to make money," he added to
Austen, "I don't care how long you stay."

"Say, Austen," said young Tom, "do you remember the time we covered the
old man with shavings at the mills in Avalon, and how he chased us with a
two-by-four scantling?"

"I'd made pulp out'n you if I'd got you," remarked Mr. Gaylord, with a
reminiscent chuckle that was almost pleasant. "But you were always a
goldurned smart boy, Austen, and you've done well with them little
suits." He gazed at Austen a moment with his small, filmy-blue eye. "I
don't know but what you might take hold here and make it hot for those
d-d rascals in the Northeastern, after all. You couldn't botch it worsen
Hammer has, and you might do some good. I said I'd make 'em dance, and by
G-d, I'll do it, if I have to pay that Teller Levering in New York, and
it takes the rest of my life. Look the situation over, and come back
to-morrow and tell me what you think of it."

"I can tell you what I think of it now, Mr. Gaylord," said Austen.

"What's that?" old Tom demanded sharply.

"That you'll never get the bill passed, this session or next, by
lobbying."

For the moment the elder Mr. Gaylord was speechless, but young Tom
Gaylord clapped his hand heartily on his friend's shoulder.

"That's the reason I wanted to get you down here, Austen," he cried;
that's what I've been telling the old