Garwood was silent for a long time. He drew a large cigar from his pocket and lighted it, rolling out its thick, rich Havana smoke until it was half consumed before he spoke again: "Well, you've played hell, haven't you, Jim?" Rankin hung his head. "I'm awful sorry. I haven't slep' a night thinkin' of it, but--I couldn't help it, Pusey done it, that's all." "Pusey!" sneered Garwood, putting all his contempt for the man into his tone as he sniffed out his name. "Pusey! To think of Jim Rankin's letting Free Pusey lick him that easy!" "Well, we've al'ays underrated Pusey, I've found that out." "Yes, you've found it out--too late." "Maybe. But he's slicker 'n I give him credit fer bein' an' I take off my hat to him, damn his dirty, lousy little soul!" The two men sat after that, staring out the window, watching the lawyers coming out of the court house across the wide street, Garwood deep in gloom, wondering if he would have to resume that life with the rest of them. They looked so poor, their work so little and contemptible after all he had grown accustomed to in Washington. Rankin, however, could not long endure such a melancholy attitude and he roused his big body presently and said: "But there's no use to get down in the mouth. I've won worse battles 'an this, an' so've you. An' we can win this. The delegation's uninstructed, an' I forced 'em to put some of our fellers on. It was the hottest convention I ever see. Wisht you'd been here." "So do I," said Garwood bitterly, "so do I--instead I was staying on down in Washington looking after their interests while the dear people here at home were sharpening knives for me. How did you get any of my fellows on the delegation?" he suddenly broke off to demand. "Well, I'll tell you. You see, I might 'ave had the nomination fer county treas'rer; they wanted me to take it, fer they feared to make too big a break in the party, but I made 'em let me name half o' the delegation instead." "Half?" "Yes, half--we split it up, though they got the odd man." "You on?" "Me? You bet I'm on, an' I'll be there, don't you forget that." "You didn't want the treasurership?" "Well, yes, I might 'ave wanted it, some--it 'uld be a good thing; come in mighty handy just now." And Rankin expressively rattled the keys in his empty pocket. "But I thought it 'uld look like treason to you, an' it would; though it wasn't no sacrifice, you havin' promised me the post-office. I knew I 'as sure o' that. When does Bartlett's term end?" "In December," Garwood replied. "Well, I can hold out till then, if the neighbors keeps on bringin' things in. You couldn't hurry it up, could you?" "No, hardly," said Garwood. "But, tell me, what does Pusey expect to get out of this?" "What does Pusey expect to get out of this? Why, not a thing--but the post-office, himself." "Has Sprague promised it to him?" "Yes, fer enough votes from Polk to nominate him." "Umph humph," said Garwood, slowly, through his nose. "Umph humph."