ator, "I
shall be happy. And if you are ever in your automobile near the town of
Ramsey, stop at my little farm, Mr. Crewe. I trust to be able soon to
congratulate you on a step which I am sure will be but the beginning of
a long and brilliant political career."

"Thanks," said Mr. Crewe; "by the bye, if you could see your way to drop
a hint to that feller Braden, I should be much obliged."

The senator shook his head and laughed.

"Job is an independent cuss," he said, "I'm afraid he'd regard that as an
unwarranted trespass on his preserves."

Mr. Crewe was ushered out by the stooping secretary, Mr. Freeman; who,
instead of seizing Mr. Crewe's hand as he had Austen Vane's, said not a
word. But Mr. Crewe would have been interested if he could have heard Mr.
Flint's first remark to the senator after the door was closed on his
back. It did not relate to Mr. Crewe, but to the subject under discussion
which he had interrupted; namely, the Republican candidates for the
twenty senatorial districts of the State.

On its way back to Leith the red motor paused in front of Mr. Ball's
store, and that gentleman was summoned in the usual manner.

"Do you see this Braden once in a while?" Mr. Crewe demanded.

Mr. Ball looked knowing.

"Tell him I want to have a talk with him," said Mr. Crewe. "I've been to
see Mr. Flint, and I think matters can be arranged. And mind you, no word
about this, Ball."

"I guess I understand a thing or two," said Mr. Ball. "Trust me to handle
it."

Two days later, as Mr. Crewe was seated in his study, his man entered and
stood respectfully waiting for the time when he should look up from his
book.

"Well, what is it now, Waters?"

"If you please, sir," said the man, "a strange message has come over the
telephone just now that you were to be in room number twelve of the
Ripton House to-morrow at ten o'clock. They wouldn't give any name, sir,"
added the dignified Waters, who, to tell the truth, was somewhat
outraged, nor tell where they telephoned from. But it was a man's voice,
sir."

"All right," said Mr. Crewe.

He spent much of the afternoon and evening debating whether or not his
dignity would permit him to go. But he ordered the motor at half-past
nine, and at ten o'clock precisely the clerk at the Ripton House was
bowing to him and handing him, deferentially, a dripping pen.

"Where's room number twelve?" said the direct Mr. Crewe.

"Oh," said the clerk, and possessing a full sha