"I am supposing it with all my might." "That is right; we are only supposing, you must remember. We may suppose their idea was to let the excitement about the amended bill die down; to let people generally, and one fiercely honest young corporation attorney in particular, have time to forget that there was such a thing as House Bill Twenty-nine. And in such a suppositional case, how much they would be surprised, and how they would laugh in their sleeves, if some one came along and paid them handsomely for doing precisely what they meant to do." David Kent's smile was almost ferocious. "My argument is as good now as it was in the beginning: they have yet to reckon with the man who will dare to expose them." She turned from him and spoke to the footman at the door. "Thomas, fetch Mr. Kent's coat and hat from the dressing-room." And then to Kent, in the tone she might have used in telling him of the latest breeziness of the member from the Rio Blanco: "I remember now what it was that I wanted to tell you. While you have been trying to find Mr. Ormsby, the committee on judiciary has been reporting the long-lost House Bill Twenty-nine. If you hurry you may be in time to see it passed--it will doubtless go through without any tiresome debate. But you will hardly have time to obstruct it by arousing public sentiment through the newspapers." David Kent shook the light touch of her hand from his arm and set his teeth hard upon a word hot from the furnace of righteous indignation. For a moment he fully believed she was in league with the junto; that she had been purposely holding him in talk while the very seconds were priceless. She saw the scornful wrath in his eyes and turned it aside with a swift denial. "No, David; I didn't do that," she said, speaking to his inmost thought. "If there had been anything you could do--the smallest shadow of a chance for you--I should have sent you flying at the first word. But there wasn't; it was all too well arranged--" But he had snatched coat and hat from the waiting Thomas and was running like a madman for the nearest cab-stand. VII THE SENTIMENTALISTS Kent's time from Alameda Square to the capitol was the quickest a flogged cab-horse could make, but he might have spared the horse and saved the double fee. On the broad steps of the south portico he, uprushing three at a bound, met the advance guard of the gallery contingent, down-coming. The House had adjourned. "One minute, Harnwicke!" he gasped, falling upon the first member of the corporations' lobby he could identify in the throng. "What's been done?"