And now but one vote was needed to give Burroughs his heart's desire. Moore had not told Eva this. But if Charlie could be secured to-night, to-morrow or the next day he would give the signal, and the men, bought but not yet delivered, would vote for Burroughs--and the battle be won! Oh, it was glorious! Bob _was_ lucky. How often he had said it of himself. Yet sudden fear came. A certain Corsican had thought that he was the darling of the gods, and confused his luck with destiny. Had Burroughs made the same mistake? Certainly not. Moore's habitual confidence returned manifold. The opposition was divided among too many men to amount to anything more than to keep Burroughs in uncertainty, and no stretching of his imagination could conceive any one man fusing their warring elements. Moore already saw his winter's work crowned with success. Blair was waiting on the club steps for his host, and the dinner was ready. They were unusually silent until the black coffee and the cigars were brought. Then Moore leaned forward to reach the cognac for his coffee and asked: "How much does it cost you a year to live, Charlie? Expenses run pretty high?" The questions were unexpected. Blair knew the motive of his host in giving a dinner, for Moore seldom entertained without an underlying reason. Certainly he never spent his own or Burroughs' money without expecting fair returns. But Charlie had thought the attack would be more direct. Therefore he answered lightly: "I might reply as a colored man did who was asked how little he could live on. 'I live and work on three cents' worth of peanuts a day, but I'm a little hungry sometimes.'" Mr. Moore smiled perfunctorily. He had no sense of humor. "What have you been doing all summer?" "Prospecting." "Prospecting is like trying to raise money without security. Neither pans out." "Precious little you know about either," retorted Blair. "You're a poor man," said Moore, abruptly. The announcement struck the senator as superfluous. He nodded. "I am familiar with the fact." The Honorable William resolved to strike. He had never thought to speak to Charlie, but if Mrs. Latimer could not bring him to the point he would have to do it himself. One more member must be secured, and Blair was the only possible man. The other legislators who had not already succumbed seemed impregnable. Moore became impatient as he remembered how easy it had seemed at first to secure enough votes to elect his chief. "Charlie," he began, clearing his throat, "we want you in this fight we are making, and we want you hard. We are going to win. We are going to get the votes; if we don't get them one way, we're going to get them another." "So I've understood." The host felt on unstable ground at the noncommittal answer, but he boldly pushed ahead. No time to fear quicksands--the end of the session was too near! He dwelt on the good that Burroughs could do the State if he went to Congress, and finally repeated: