It did not take Sibyl long to acquaint Fogg with the nature of her errand. She was tactfully frank, for she knew how to reach such a man. “Mr. Fogg, I’m horribly in debt,” she announced, looking him in the face without the quiver of an eyelash. “I must have money, five thousand dollars, to be paid to me if I prevent Justin Wingate from giving his vote to the man the irrigationists want for United States senator.” He stared at her. How handsome she was! And what nerve she displayed! Not one woman in a thousand would have made such a confession, or come at him in that manner. Her idea appealed to him, if there was anything in it. “Why, what can you do?” he asked. He smoothed his limp mustache, and wondered if his collar set just right; he knew he had forgotten to turn his reversible cuffs that morning! “What can you do, Mrs. Dudley? Everything has been done that can be done already. I’ve begged him, argued with him, prayed with him; and every man on our side who is supposed to have the least influence with him has done the same thing. We have even threatened him. Promises, threats, bribes, nothing will move him.” Sibyl smiled at him across the little table. She had beautiful teeth. “It can be done,” she said, with sweet conviction. So singular and confident was her expression that he was almost tempted to look into her ungloved right hand to see if she clasped a poniard. He saw only the flash of her rings. “Why, what would you do;” he cried, in sudden amazement; “knife him?” She gave him a glance of scorn, which melted at once into a captivating smile. “How absurd you are! Who ever dreamed of such a thing? This isn’t the Back of Beyond.” “What would you do?” “Is it worth five thousand dollars to you if Justin Wingate does not vote against the cattlemen’s candidate for senator?” He regarded her thoughtfully, and jingled the watch chain that lay across his round stomach. “Yes,” he admitted, “it’s worth every cent of it.” “Will you agree to pay me that sum if I do keep him from casting that vote? I am in debt and must have money; five thousand dollars is little enough; but if you will satisfy me that you will give me that much money I will prevent that vote.” “Tell me how you’re going to do it.” “If I told you I should render my services valueless. You will have to trust everything to me.” “You want me to sign a note, or promise; I couldn’t do that. It wouldn’t be good politics.” “Then you will have to pay me something in advance. I must be secured in some manner.” Lemuel Fogg had never yet bought a pig in a poke, and he did not intend to begin that doubtful practice now. He questioned Sibyl Dudley’s ability to do what she said. She was a very charming woman; he admired her very much; but beautiful women had never the power to make Lemuel Fogg cut his purse-strings. So he refused, very tactfully and graciously, as becomes a man who has to refuse anything to a pretty woman. She saw that it was a refusal, and final.