Holman went to the cigar stand, lighted a cigar, sauntered out into the rotunda and leaned against the brass rail. He blew out streams of smoke and through squinting little eyes watched them float away; he smoked and squinted and thought, and what he saw was Baldwin, the lobbyist, and young McCray. Two men passed on their way over to the senate chamber, and he heard one of them pronounce his name. “----leaning on the rail there, smoking. “Oh--I forgot; his face was familiar, too. The old Has-been has come back for a day!” It was Baldwin who spoke; his companion was young McCray. “Ah, yes! An old Has-been,” thought Holman. Baldwin said that, and McCray! They said that even down in Jasper. But Baldwin, he was no Has-been; it had not affected him at all. * * * * * When Holman entered the house that afternoon he was sensible of a change in the atmosphere. The new element was one he recognized--skilled as of old in legislative aëroscepsy--one that strangely excited him, both by what it recalled and by what it portended; there were tension, alertness, irritability and suspense, the knowledge of an evil, sinister Presence, known, silent, unrevealed, but apprehended--a Presence expected, even desired, yet dreaded; in short, the psychic condition that exists in a legislative chamber when something is about to come off. Holman, standing well back by the cloak-room, examining the house with expert eye, knew that the thing was imminent, though not immediate. There were certain signs wanting. The speaker sat calm, but he was twirling his gavel nervously; the leaders were restless and furtive, but they had not as yet got every man in his seat. McCray, for instance, was absent. Holman sauntered carelessly around to the side on which Bemis sat, caught the old man’s eye and beckoned. “I thought they’d get that bill up,” said Holman, “and I’d see a little fun; but there seems to be no chance of that. Reckon I’ll go.” “There’s been a hitch,” said Bemis in a low tone. “Has, heh?” “Yes,” said Bemis; “the boys thought they had it fixed, but Wimbleton switched; told O’Leary so at noon. Either the governor got around him or he got scared.” “Need only one vote?” surmised Holman. Then Bemis, as if a thought had struck him, drew close and put his lips to Holman’s ear: “You know that young McCray from your district?” “Sure.” “Well, now, Jim, if you could fix him--you might get in on this thing. He won’t do business with any of us. I don’t know exactly, but I should think there’d be for you and him at least--” He put his lips quite into Holman’s ear, and Holman bent lower; and Bemis whispered again. Holman did not move a muscle. Bemis withdrew a little and looked at him. “I don’t know McCray very well,” said Holman presently. “He’s a youngster, and I’ve been out of politics a long time. But I might have a little talk with him. I can’t promise, though--an old Has-been like me, you know.” He laughed a small bitter laugh.