Miss Clark stared at him. “Who had me made postmistress?” she repeated. “Why, the U.S. government appointed me, if that’s what you mean. And that was nine years ago. What do you ask such a question as that for?” “I’ll ask you another one. When Sylvanus Oaks died you sent in a petition asking for his job, didn’t you?... Oh, never mind! I know you did, and so did Frank Parker and Reuben Hatch and a couple more. Why do you suppose the government people picked you out instead of one of the others? Their petitions were as long as yours. Well, I’ll tell you. It was because I told them to.” She was surprised now, there was no doubt of that. “You told ’em!” she repeated, sharply. “_You_ did! Why, you didn’t even sign my petition. Not that I asked you to sign it. I didn’t.” “No. I wondered if you were going to, but you were your own pig-headed self and didn’t bring it near me. But I didn’t sign any one else’s either; you know that.” “I don’t know it. I never cared enough to find out.” “No?” with a chuckle. “Well, you know it now. What you haven’t known all this time is that I wrote to a friend of mine who was in Congress from this district and told him you were the fittest candidate for the place and to see that you got it. He saw just that. I put you into that post office, Reliance, just as I’ve rented you this house of mine, and if I take you out of both I can’t see that anybody has any ground for complaint. I’ll hear from you in a day or two, of course. Good-night. Good-night, Esther.” He did not include Mr. Clark in his good-night, but the latter ran out after him in the rain and caught his arm. “It’ll be all right, Cap’n Foster,” whispered Millard, eagerly. “Don’t you fret a mite. It’ll come out all right. Reliance she always has to argue and fetch up objections to ’most anything, but she’ll come round. We’ll be up there along with you inside of a week, all hands of us. You leave it to me. I’ll ’tend to it.” Foster Townsend made no reply. He shook off the clutch upon his coat sleeve and walked away into the rain-striped blackness beyond the light from the open door. Millard Fillmore hurried back to the sitting-room. “Gosh!” he whooped ecstatically, “Oh, my _gosh_! Say, ain’t it _wonderful_! Ain’t it--” He stopped, for his half-sister was speaking to their niece and he caught a word or two--unbelievable, horrifying words which caused his pæan of triumphant rejoicing to break off in the middle of the first strophe. “I should say not!” declared Reliance. “Well, I should say _not_! Humph! the idea! I could have slapped his face for him for darin’ to think such a thing, let alone sayin’ it out loud--to me. When I get so worn out and good for nothin’ that I can’t earn my own livin’ I’ll find the cheapest way to die and do it, and I’ll take care to have enough put by to pay for my buryin’. I won’t go up to his palace and live on the leavin’s from _his_ table. _I’m_ no Lazarus. Saucy patronizin’ thing! The idea!”