d now, all right, Colonel. I always knew you didn't
belong in that bunch of lobbyists that was always gum-shoeing through
the marble halls of the State House. Thatcher sends somebody around to
look me up every little while to see if he can't coax something out of
me,--something he can use, you know."

"Thatcher oughtn't to do that. If you want me to, I'll pull him off."

"No; I guess I can take care of myself. He"--Rose indicated the inner
office with a slight movement of the head, "he never tries to pump me.
He ain't that kind of a fighter. But everybody that's anywhere near the
inside knows that Thatcher carries a sharp knife. He's going to shed
some pink ink before he gets through. Are you on?"

They exchanged a glance.

"Something that isn't nice?"

Rose nodded.

"I hate to see that sort of thing brought into the game. But they'll
never find anything. The gentleman we are referring to works on
noiseless rollers." Colonel Ramsay indicated the closed door by an
almost imperceptible gesture of interrogation; and Rose replied by
compressing her lips and shaking her head.

"He isn't in on that; he's a gentleman, you know; not a mud-slinger."

"He might have to stand for anything Thatcher springs. Thatcher has
developed into a shrewd and hard fighter. The other crowd don't laugh at
him any more; it was his work that got our legislative ticket through
last fall when Bassett passed the word that we should take a licking
just to magnify his importance. Is Thatcher in town now?"

"No; that boy of his with the bad lung had to go off to the Adirondacks,
and he went with him."

The inner door opened at this moment, disclosing the Honorable Isaac
Pettit, who greeted Ramsay effusively.

"What is immortality, gentlemen!" the Honorable Isaac Pettit inquired,
clinging to the Colonel's hand. "We had a little social gathering for
our new pastor up at Fraser the other night, and I sprung a new game on
the old folks. Offered a prize for anybody who could name all the
Vice-Presidents of the United States since Lincoln's administration, and
they couldn't even get past Grant--and Schuyler Colfax being right off
our own Hoosier pastures! Then we tried for the Democratic candidates
for President, beginning back at the war, and they couldn't even start.
One young chap piped up and said Jeff Davis--oh, Lord!--which reminds me
that the teaching of history in the public schools ain't what it ought
to be. They hadn't heard of Hancock,