“That's all right,” replied Mr. Maker, doggedly, “I'm on, I'm here now, and that bill in the Judiciary doesn't pass without me. I guess I can stop it, too. How about a thousand apiece for five of us boys?” “You're pretty good at a joke, Jim,” remarked the Colonel, stroking his goatee. “Maybe you're looking for a little publicity in this here game,” retorted Mr. Maker, darkly. “Say, Colonel, ain't we always treated the Railroad on the level?” “Jim,” asked the Colonel, gently, “didn't I always take care of you?” He had laid his hand on the shoulder of Mr. Maker, who appeared slightly mollified, and glanced at a massive silver watch. “Well, I'll be dropping in about eight o'clock,” was his significant reply, as he took his leave. “I guess we'll have to grease the wheels a little,” the Colonel remarked to me, and gazed at the ceiling.... The telegram apropos of the Ward Five leader was by no means the only cipher message I sent back during my stay. I had not needed to be told that the matter in hand would cost money, but Mr. Watling's parting instruction to me had been to take the Colonel's advice as to specific sums, and obtain confirmation from Fowndes. Nor was it any surprise to me to find Democrats on intimate terms with such a stout Republican as the Colonel. Some statesman is said to have declared that he knew neither Easterners nor Westerners, Northerners nor Southerners, but only Americans; so Colonel Varney recognized neither Democrats nor Republicans; in our legislature party divisions were sunk in a greater loyalty to the Railroad. At the Colonel's suggestion I had laid in a liberal supply of cigars and whiskey. The scene in his room that evening suggested a session of a sublimated grand lodge of some secret order, such were the mysterious comings and goings, knocks and suspenses. One after another the “important” men duly appeared and were introduced, the Colonel supplying the light touch. “Why, cuss me if it isn't Billy! Mr. Paret, I want you to shake hands with Mr. Donovan, the floor leader of the 'opposition,' sir. Mr. Donovan has had the habit of coming up here for a friendly chat ever since he first came down to the legislature. How long is it, Billy?” “I guess it's nigh on to fifteen years, Colonel.” “Fifteen years!” echoed the Colonel, “and he's so good a Democrat it hasn't changed his politics a particle.” Mr. Donovan grinned in appreciation of this thrust, helped himself liberally from the bottle on the mantel, and took a seat on the bed. We had a “friendly chat.” Thus I made the acquaintance also of the Hon. Joseph Mecklin, Speaker of the House, who unbent in the most flattering way on learning my identity.