"Mr. Krebs is a lawyer. Has he accepted a pass from the Railroad?" I demanded, knowing the custom of that corporation of conferring this delicate favour on the promising young talent in my profession. "I reckon he's never had the chance," said Mr. Varney. "Well, has he taken a pass as a member of the legislature?" "No,--I remember looking that up when he first came down. Sent that back, if I recall the matter correctly." Colonel Varney went to a desk in the corner of the room, unlocked it, drew forth a black book, and running his fingers through the pages stopped at the letter K. "Yes, sent back his legislative pass, but I've known 'em to do that when they were holding out for something more. There must be somebody who can get close to him." The Colonel ruminated awhile. Then he strode to the door and called out to the group of men who were always lounging in the hall. "Tell Alf Young I want to see him, Fred." I waited, by no means free from uneasiness and anxiety, from a certain lack of self-respect that was unfamiliar. Mr. Young, the Colonel explained, was a legal light in Galesburg, near Elkington,--the Railroad lawyer there. And when at last Mr. Young appeared he proved to be an oily gentleman of about forty, inclining to stoutness, with one of those "blue," shaven faces. "Want me, Colonel?" he inquired blithely, when the door had closed behind him; and added obsequiously, when introduced to me, "Glad to meet you, Mr. Paret. My regards to Mr. Watling, when you go back. "Alf," demanded the Colonel, "what do you know of this fellow Krebs?" Mr. Young laughed. Krebs was "nutty," he declared--that was all there was to it. "Won't he--listen to reason?" "It's been tried, Colonel. Say, he wouldn't know a hundred-dollar bill if you showed him one." "What does he want?" "Oh, something,--that's sure, they all want something." Mr. Young shrugged his shoulder expressively, and by a skillful manipulation of his lips shifted his cigar from one side of his mouth to the other without raising his hands. "But it ain't money. I guess he's got a notion that later on the labour unions'll send him to the United States Senate some day. He's no slouch, either, when it comes to law. I can tell you that." "No--no flaw in his--record?" Colonel Varney's agate eyes sought those of Mr. Young, meaningly. "That's been tried, too," declared the Galesburg attorney. "Say, you can believe it or not, but we've never dug anything up so far. He's been too slick for us, I guess." "Well," exclaimed the Colonel, at length, "let him squeal and be d--d! He can't do any more than make a noise. Only I hoped we'd be able to grease this thing along and slide it through the Senate this afternoon, before they got wind of it." "He'll squeal, all right, until you smother him," Mr. Young observed. "We'll smother him some day!" replied the Colonel, savagely. Mr. Young laughed.