"What!" exclaimed Tom, incredulously. He had always been willing to accept Austen's judgment on men and affairs, but this was pretty stiff. "What makes you think so?" "Well, people don't know Mr. Crewe, for one thing. And they are beginning to have a glimmer of light upon the Railroad." "Do you mean to say he has a chance for the nomination?" "I don't know. It depends upon how much the voters find out about him before the convention." Tom sat down rather heavily. "You could have been governor," he complained reproachfully, "by raising your hand. You've got more ability than any man in the State, and you sit here gazin' at that mountain and lettin' a darned fool millionaire walk in ahead of you." Austen rose and crossed over to Mr. Gaylord's chair, and, his hands still in his pockets, looked down thoughtfully into that gentleman's square and rugged face. "Tom," he said, "there's no use discussing this delusion of yours, which seems to be the only flaw in an otherwise sane character. We must try to keep it from the world." Tom laughed in spite of himself. "I'm hanged if I understand you," he declared, "but I never did. You think Crewe and Tooting may carry off the governorship, and you don't seem to care." "I do care," said Austen, briefly. He went to the window and stood for a moment with his back to his friend, staring across at Sawanec. Tom had learned by long experience to respect these moods, although they were to him inexplicable. At length Austen turned. "Tom," he said, "can you come in to-morrow about this time? If you can't, I'll go to your office if you will let me know when you'll be in. There's a matter of business I want to talk to you about." Tom pulled out his watch. "I've got to catch a train for Mercer," he replied, "but I will come in in the morning and see you." A quarter of an hour later Austen went down the narrow wooden flight of stairs into the street, and as he emerged from the entry almost bumped into the figure of a young man that was hurrying by. He reached out and grasped the young man by the collar, pulling him up so short as almost to choke him. "Hully gee!" cried the young man whose progress had been so rudely arrested. "Great snakes!" (A cough.) "What're you tryin' to do? Oh," (apologetically) "it's you, Aust. Let me go. This day ain't long enough for me. Let me go." Austen kept his grip and regarded Mr. Tooting thoughtfully. "I want to speak to you, Ham," he said; "better come upstairs." "Say, Aust, on the dead, I haven't time. Pardriff's waitin' for some copy now." "Just for a minute, Ham," said Austen; "I won't keep you long." "Leggo my collar, then, if you don't want to choke me. Say, I don't believe you know how strong you are." "I didn't know you wore a collar any more, Ham," said Austen. Mr. Tooting grinned in appreciation of this joke.