The gentlemen of the committee exchanged wise grins, suggestively sardonic grins, and sat down. Mac Tavish, bristling in silence over his figures, was comforted by the ever-springing hope that this intrusion might serve as the last straw on the overloaded Morrison endurance. He perked up expectantly when Stewart came striding in. Then he wilted despondently, because Morrison greeted the gentlemen with breezy hospitality, led them beyond the rail, and gave them chairs near his desk. "Command me! I am at your service!" "We're on our way to Senator Corson's. We have been invited to meet Mr. Daunt at lunch," said Despeaux; a thin veneer of suavity suited his thin lips. "Fine!" "I'm glad to hear you say so. We felt that we'd like your opinion of him and his plans before we commit ourselves." "I like his personality," stated Stewart, heartily. "But I have only a general notion of his plans." "Same here," admitted the chairman, though not in a tone of convincing sincerity. "The Senator brought him into my office for a minute or so before they started up-river. Told me to get the boys together and come for lunch. But if it's to put the water-power of this state on a bigger and broader basis, you and the storage commission are with us, aren't you?" Despeaux demanded rather than queried; his air was a bit offensive. "I'm a citizen of Marion and a native of this state, body and soul for all the good that can come to us, by our own efforts or through the aid of outsiders," declared Morrison, spacking his palm upon the arm of his chair. "Well, I guess we don't need any better promise than that, for a starter, at any rate. Of course, we knew it--but there's nothing like having a right-out word of mouth." Despeaux rose and pulled out his watch. "We'd better move on toward the eats, boys!" "Just a moment, however, Despeaux! My father was a Morrison and my mother a Mac Dougal. I can't help what's in me!" "What is it that's in you?" inquired Despeaux, pausing in the act of putting back his watch. "Scotch cautiousness!" "You don't suspect that a man like the big Silas Daunt, of Daunt and Cropley--" "I don't suspect. I haven't got as far as that! But I want to know exactly what he means by coming into this state. I have a man out getting me some facts about what kind of a devil's mess is being stirred up all of a sudden to-day in politics. Suppose you get under Daunt's hide and find out whether he wants to _do_ us or do _for_ us, on the water-power matter." An observant bystander would have perceived a queer sort of crispness in Morrison's manner from the outset of the interview; the same perspicacity would have detected something hard under the smooth surface of Despeaux's early politeness. Mr. Despeaux was not so elaborately polite when he retorted that he did not propose to play the spy on a guest while eating a host's victuals. Mr. Morrison promptly put more of a snap into his crispness.