In the meantime Mr. Flint, with a pile of letters in a special basket on the edge of his desk, was awaiting his counsel; the president of the Northeastern was pacing his room, as was his wont when his activities were for a moment curbed, or when he had something on his mind; and every few moments he would glance towards his mantel at the clock which was set to railroad time. In past days he had never known Hilary Vane to be a moment late to an appointment. The door was open, and five and twenty minutes had passed the hour before he saw the lawyer in the doorway. Mr. Flint was a man of such preoccupation of mind that he was not likely to be struck by any change there might have been in his counsel's appearance. “It's half-past three,” he said. Hilary entered, and sat down beside the window. “You mean that I'm late,” he replied. “I've got some engineers coming here in less than an hour,” said Mr. Flint. “I'll be gone in less than an hour,” said Hilary. “Well,” said Mr. Flint, “let's get down to hardtack. I've got to be frank with you, Vane, and tell you plainly that this political business is all at sixes and sevens.” “It isn't necessary to tell me that,” said Hilary. “What do you mean?” “I mean that I know it.” “To put it mildly,” the president of the Northeastern continued, “it's the worst mixed-up campaign I ever knew. Here we are with the convention only two days off, and we don't know where we stand, how many delegates we've got, or whether this upstart at Leith is going to be nominated over our heads. Here's Adam Hunt with his back up, declaring he's a reformer, and all his section of the State behind him. Now if that could have been handled otherwise--” “Who told Hunt to go in?” Hilary inquired. “Things were different then,” said Mr. Flint, vigorously. “Hunt had been promised the governorship for a long time, and when Ridout became out of the question--” “Why did Ridout become out of the question?” asked Hilary. Mr. Flint made a gesture of impatience. “On account of that foolishness in the Legislature, of course.” “That foolishness in the Legislature, as you call it, represented a sentiment all over the State,” said Hilary. “And if I'd been you, I wouldn't have let Hunt in this year. But you didn't ask my opinion. You asked me when you begged me to get Adam out, and I predicted that he wouldn't get out.” Mr. Flint took a turn up and down the room. “I'm sorry I didn't send for him to go to New York,” he said. “Well, anyway, the campaign's been muddled, that's certain,--whoever muddled it.” And the president looked at his counsel as though he, at least, had no doubts on this point. But Hilary appeared unaware of the implication, and made no reply.