it of not
squeezing hands too hard.

"Isn't that Mr. Putter, who keeps a livery-stable here?" inquired Mr.
Crewe, about nine o'clock--our candidate having a piercing eye of his
own. Mr. Putter's coat, being brushed back, has revealed six cigars.

"Why, yes--yes," says Mr. Watling.

"Is he a delegate?" Mr. Crewe demanded.

"Why, I guess he must be," says Mr. Watling.

But Mr. Putter is not a delegate.

"You've stood up and made a grand fight, Mr. Crewe," says another
gentleman, a little later, with a bland, smooth shaven face and strong
teeth to clinch Mr. Crewe's cigars. "I wish I was fixed so as I could
vote for you."

Mr. Crewe looks at him narrowly.

"You look very much like a travelling man from New York, who tried to
sell me farm machinery," he answers.

"Where are you from?"

"You ain't exactly what they call a tyro, are you?" says the bland-faced
man; "but I guess you've missed the mark this shot. Well, so long."

"Hold on!" says Mr. Crewe, "Watling will talk to you."

And, as the gentleman follows Mr. Wailing through the press, a pamphlet
drops from his pocket to the floor. It is marked 'Catalogue of the Raines
Farm Implement Company.' Mr. Watling picks it up and hands it to the
gentleman, who winks again.

"Tim," he says, "where can we sit down? How much are you getting out of
this? Brush and Jake Botcher are bidding high down-stairs, and the
quotation on delegates has gone up ten points in ten minutes. It's mighty
good of you to remember old friends, Tim, even if they're not delegates."

Meanwhile Mr. Crewe is graciously receiving others who are crowding to
him.

"How are you, Mr. Giddings? How are the cows? I carry some stock that'll
make you sit up--I believe I told you when I was down your way. Of
course, mine cost a little money, but that's one of my hobbies. Come and
see 'em some day. There's a good hotel in Ripton, and I'll have you met
there and drive you back."

Thus, with a genial and kindly remark to each, he passes from one to the
other, and when the members of the press come to him for his estimate of
the outcome on the morrow, he treats them with the same courtly
consideration.

"Estimate!" cries Mr. Crewe. "Where have your eyes been to-night, my
friends? Have you seen the people coming into these headquarters? Have
you seen 'em pouring into any other headquarters? All the State and
federal office-holders in the country couldn't stop me now. Estimate!
I'll be nominated on th