"Oh, there won't be any trouble about that. No, Sir; that is, if they want to put on a good play. We have something here, Sir (slapping his hand upon the manuscript), that ought to stir the dramatic world from center to circumference. Oh, you may smile, but it will, for I want to tell you that I have never been associated with a failure. And there's a good deal in that; as sure as you live there is. Luck begets luck, and failure suckles a failure. Yes, Sir. Have you made any overtures?" "Not exactly. I wrote to Copeland Maffet and sent him a scenario--" "A what?" "An outline of the piece. And he writes that he will be in Memphis on the 17th of next month, and that he would like to hear the play." "Of course he would. We knew that all the time. We'll hop on a boat and go up there. Good man, is he?" "One of the best; he doesn't do things by halves." "All right, Sir, he's our man, that is, if he's willing to pay for a good thing. Well, I believe I'll go on out home. It's cooler there. By the way, come out with me. There's no one on the place except Sister Patsey, and I'm lonesome. Come on, we'll ride out." I was afraid to look at him; I was afraid to hesitate, to frame an excuse, and without saying a word I went down stairs with him and got into the buggy. He did not drive directly to his home; he halted at several places--in front of a lawyer's office, a butcher's shop, to ask advice concerning his political contest, a shrewd way to flatter and stimulate a lax supporter. We drove to a wagonmaker's shop, off in the edge of the town, and when the workman had been fed with big words, we set out at a brisk trot, with a gang of boys behind us, shouting in a cloud of dust. Ahead I could see nothing but the sun-dazzled roadway, sloping down into the open country, but we turned a corner thick with cherry trees and the Senator's house leaped into view. It seemed a long time since I had heard the click of the gate-latch; since I had stood upon the stone steps to breathe the cool, sweet air of the hall. "I think the library is about the coolest place in the house," said the Senator. "Step in, and I'll see if I can find some fans. There are some on the table. Take that big palm leaf. Pardon me if I unbutton my collar. I'm as hot as a dog in August with a tin pan tied to his tail. But you appear to be cool enough." "I didn't expect to hear you Southerners complain of the heat. I thought you could stand it." "We do stand it, but we complain. I doubt whether an Anglo-Saxon can ever learn to like real hot weather. Oh, we prate about the sunny South and we like sunshine, but, by George, Sir, we hug the shade. Have you got a pretty good plot for your play?" "Yes, I think so." "We must have a good plot, you know; we must have everything turn out all right. Any fighting in it?" "Well, there are several spirited scenes."