he buzzing lobbyists as to satisfy his hunger, he went
to the _cafe_ and ordered a belated dinner, choosing a table from which
he could look out through the open doors and command the main entrance
through which the theatre-goers would return.

He was through with the dinner, and was slowly sipping his black coffee,
when he saw them come in. Since it was no part of his plan to dull the
edge of opportunity by holding it first upon the social grindstone, he
let the party of three go on to the elevators, and a little later sent a
card up-stairs asking his father to meet him in the lounge on the
mezzanine floor.

Having the advantage of time, he was first at the appointed
meeting-place. He had drawn a chair to the balustrade, and was glooming
thoughtfully down at the lobby gathering, upon which even the lateness
of the hour appeared to have no dispersing effect, when a mellow voice
behind him said: "Well, son, taking a quiet little squint at the
menagerie?"

Blount got up and gave the speaker his chair, dragging up another for
himself. The senator sat down and stretched his great frame like a man
wearied. "Ah, Lord!" he said. "The old man isn't as young as he used to
be, Evan, boy. There was a time once when eleven o'clock didn't seem any
later to me than it does now to you; but it's gone by, son, and I don't
reckon it'll ever come back again."

Blount drew his chair nearer. "I have a hard thing to say to you
to-night, dad," he began, "and you mustn't make it harder by speaking of
your--of the things that get near to me. I am a man grown, and a Blount,
like yourself; I want you to give me back those papers which your
dynamiter or somebody else in your pay took from my office safe three
nights ago."

The senator's eyes lighted with the gentle smile, and the tips of the
great mustaches twitched slightly.

"So McVickar's been telling tales out of school, has he?" he inquired
half-jocularly.

"I have had no communication with Mr. McVickar. It wasn't necessary, nor
is it needful for us to go aside out of the straight road. I want those
papers. They are mine, and they were stolen."

The elder man smiled again. "What if I should say that I haven't got
'em, son--what then?" he asked mildly.

"I don't want you to say that. I want to believe that, however bitter
this fight may grow, we shall still speak the truth to each other."

There was silence for a little time, and then the father broke it to
say: "Reckon I could as