in an otherwise sane character. We must try to
keep it from the world."

Tom laughed in spite of himself.

"I'm hanged if I understand you," he declared, "but I never did. You
think Crewe and Tooting may carry off the governorship, and you don't
seem to care."

"I do care," said Austen, briefly. He went to the window and stood for a
moment with his back to his friend, staring across at Sawanec. Tom had
learned by long experience to respect these moods, although they were to
him inexplicable. At length Austen turned.

"Tom," he said, "can you come in to-morrow about this time? If you can't,
I'll go to your office if you will let me know when you'll be in. There's
a matter of business I want to talk to you about."

Tom pulled out his watch.

"I've got to catch a train for Mercer," he replied, "but I will come in
in the morning and see you."

A quarter of an hour later Austen went down the narrow wooden flight of
stairs into the street, and as he emerged from the entry almost bumped
into the figure of a young man that was hurrying by. He reached out and
grasped the young man by the collar, pulling him up so short as almost to
choke him.

"Hully gee!" cried the young man whose progress had been so rudely
arrested. "Great snakes!" (A cough.) "What're you tryin' to do? Oh,"
(apologetically) "it's you, Aust. Let me go. This day ain't long enough
for me. Let me go."

Austen kept his grip and regarded Mr. Tooting thoughtfully.

"I want to speak to you, Ham," he said; "better come upstairs."

"Say, Aust, on the dead, I haven't time. Pardriff's waitin' for some copy
now."

"Just for a minute, Ham," said Austen; "I won't keep you long."

"Leggo my collar, then, if you don't want to choke me. Say, I don't
believe you know how strong you are."

"I didn't know you wore a collar any more, Ham," said Austen.

Mr. Tooting grinned in appreciation of this joke.

"You must think you've got one of your Wild West necktie parties on," he
gasped. "I'll come. But if you love me, don't let the boys in Hilary's
office see me."

"They use the other entry," answered Austen, indicating that Mr. Tooting
should go up first--which he did. When they reached the office Austen
shut the door, and stood with his back against it, regarding Mr. Tooting
thoughtfully.

At first Mr. Tooting returned the look with interest swagger--aggression
would be too emphatic, and defiance would not do. His was the air,
perhaps, of Talleyrand when he