“Oh, why not let him alone for the present, Hazelrigg?” Sayler was one of those who give orders in the form of interrogative suggestions. “But he makes me nervous,” objected the Democratic boss. “He’s spreading like wildfire. I may have to nominate him for governor.” “Why not?” said Sayler. A sentimental smile; he was thinking of the “match.” “But--damn it, he’d likely be elected.” “Well--a good beating might do my party a world of good. We’ve been in too long.” “But--I’m afraid I can’t get any _hold_ on him.” Sayler deigned no answer but a satirical smile. “He’d probably make four years of merry hell. A governor can do a lot in this state. He can _do_; so he doesn’t dare talk without doing, like most governors.” “He’d make a good governor,” said Sayler. “Yes--if I could get some _hold_ on him.” Sayler’s eyes were amused. Said he--and he had the habit of being intensely relevant while seeming to be most irrelevant: “Curious jaw, that young fellow’s got. Did you notice how long it is from ear to chin? There’s a foolish notion about that--a long chin is a sign of strength. It means nothing--nor does a short chin. It’s the length of the jaw that makes persistence--endurance--and the unafraidness that advances without a tremor where even courage hesitates. An interesting young man.” Hazelrigg had never heard so long--or so puzzling--a speech from his secret chieftain. He said desperately: “I give you fair warning, Senator, he may make it damned interesting for _us_ if we aren’t careful.” Sayler laughed pleasantly. “I wish he would. I’m tired of fighting mere cranks--or knaves attacking us simply to shake us down. Why is it, Hazelrigg, that the best can be changed into the worst? To find an absolutely abandoned woman, don’t look among the girls from the lower classes. Find one born a lady, bred a lady. To get a chap who’ll swallow any insult with gusto, who’ll do any kind of dirty work with pleasure--go among the fallen gentlemen. Several in this club.” Sayler strolled away. Hazelrigg was laughing--uncomfortably. He said to himself, “Well, if the Senator was rapping me, he was banging his own conk, too.” Sayler had brought Helm and Miss Clearwater together at his house the night before--had arranged it as soon as their chance meeting in his presence had revealed to his shrewd eyes that there was something peculiar in their relations, something unwarranted by so casual an acquaintance as theirs apparently had been. And when, after he had seen to it that they were left alone together, he had found them in a state of nervousness that indicated anything but a smooth session, he had decided that Helm had made the mistake of proposing too precipitately--and had been refused. He now went down to the Capitol to hunt Helm up.