it must be a good one, and
that kind I can't afford." He lit the cigar, and leaned back to
luxuriate in it.

"You'll like that, I'm sure. Pretty sight, isn't it?" Costell pointed to
the broad veranda, three stories below them, gay with brilliant dresses.

"Yes. It's my first visit here, so it's new to me."

"It won't be your last. You'll be attending other conventions than
this."

"I hope so."

"One of my scouts tells me you've had a call from Maguire?"

"Yes." Peter hesitated a moment. "He wants me to nominate Porter," he
continued, as soon as he had decided that plain speaking was fair to
Maguire.

"We shall be very sorry to see you do it."

"I don't think I shall. They only want me because it would give the
impression that Porter has a city backing, and to try to give that
amounts to a deception."

"Can they get Schlurger or Kennedy?"

"Schlurger is safe. I don't know about Kennedy."

"Can you find out for us?"

"Yes. When would you like to know?"

"Can you see him now? I'll wait here."

Peter rose, looking at his cigar with a suggestion of regret. But he
rubbed out the light, and left the room. At the office, he learned the
number of Kennedy's room, and went to it. On knocking, the door was
opened only a narrow crack.

"Oh! it's you," said Kennedy. "Come in."

Peter entered, and found Maguire seated in an easy attitude on a lounge.
He noticed that his thumbs were once more tucked into his waistcoat.

"Mr. Kennedy," said Peter without seating himself, "there is an attempt
being made to get a city delegate to nominate Porter. It seems to me
that is his particular friends' business."

Maguire spoke so quickly that Kennedy had no chance to reply: "Kennedy's
promised to nominate him, Mr. Stirling, if you won't."

"Do you feel that you are bound to do it?" asked Peter.

Kennedy moved uneasily in his chair. "Yes, I suppose I have promised."

"Will you release Mr. Kennedy from his promise if he asks it?" Peter
queried to Maguire.

"Why, Mr. Stirling, I don't think either he or you ought to ask it."

"That was not my question."

It was the Senator's turn to squirm. He did not want to say no, for fear
of angering Peter, yet he did not like to surrender the advantage.
Finally he said: "Yes, I'll release him, but Mr. Kennedy isn't the kind
of a man that cries off from a promise. That's women's work."

"No," said Kennedy stiffening suddenly in backbone, as he saw the outlet
opened by Maguire, be