“I want a meetin'-house talk with you, Ames,” said Carveth, the moment the secretary was out of hearing. “I was all for private life, the privater the better, until Willie smoked me out. It's this way, I got a daughter—” Mr. Carveth paused; in spite of his habitual frankness he was struggling with a sudden sense of diffidence. “We got only the one child, and naturally her mother and I center everything on her; and we've been fortunate, for we've been able to give her a good many advantages. Now Willie's interested in Nellie; and Nellie's interested in Willie. It's a match her ma and I desire; but Willie's chuck-full of pride. He's got nothing but a salary of fifteen dollars a week, and he says he can't regard marriage as a commercial asset; and there you are.” Mr. Carveth gave Ames an expressive smile. “I don't say but what Willie's right. He says if he can get me elected governor he'll feel that he ain't just an experiment. I guess you gather, from what I say, that I'm in politics to oblige Willie; and that's the situation.” The state convention met on the tenth of the month, and when the morning of the tenth dawned Ames was conscious of a feeling of disquietude. He rather took it out on Mr. Carveth's secretary. “You'll see what a gilt-edged snap does for a man, Mr. McPherson,” he observed. “Your little delegation and all the other little delegations will be given their little say, then Smith will quietly proceed to nominate his bunch; and it will dawn on a few enlightened minds that the business could have been transacted by just getting him on the phone in the first place.” And having eased himself of this depressing prophecy, Ames began a perusal of the News. Some two hours later the secretary hurried into the hotel office. “In strict confidence, Mr. Ames,” he said, and thrust a telegram into Ames' hand. It proved to be from James Cartwright Smith, and requested an immediate interview with Mr. Carveth. “He'll take the first train to town?” asked Ames. “I have just sent Mr. Carveth's answer. He will see Mr. Smith—here,” said McPherson. The next morning, when Smith descended from his car, Ames was on the platform, but as the News man advanced toward him the party leader shook his head. “Nothing doing, Ames,” he said. “I didn't know but you'd come down to see Carveth,” insinuated Ames. “Carveth, Carveth? Oh, yes—merely a coincidence;” and he turned away to enter the coach. “Interesting, but not true,” murmured Ames. He let the coach drive off and then set out briskly in pursuit. Reaching the hotel, he hurried up-stairs to a room on the second floor that immediately adjoined the one occupied by Mr. Carveth. There was a connecting door. Over this door was a transom and below the transom Ames had placed a table, on the table a rug, and on the rug a chair. “I interpreted your wire as signifying your willingness to accept the nomination at the hands of the party organization,” Smith was saying as Ames mounted to his post.