Maguire spoke so quickly that Kennedy had no chance to reply: “Kennedy’s promised to nominate him, Mr. Stirling, if you won’t.” “Do you feel that you are bound to do it?” asked Peter. Kennedy moved uneasily in his chair. “Yes, I suppose I have promised.” “Will you release Mr. Kennedy from his promise if he asks it?” Peter queried to Maguire. “Why, Mr. Stirling, I don’t think either he or you ought to ask it.” “That was not my question.” It was the Senator’s turn to squirm. He did not want to say no, for fear of angering Peter, yet he did not like to surrender the advantage. Finally he said: “Yes, I’ll release him, but Mr. Kennedy isn’t the kind of a man that cries off from a promise. That’s women’s work.” “No,” said Kennedy stiffening suddenly in backbone, as he saw the outlet opened by Maguire, between antagonizing Peter, and retracting his consent. “I don’t play baby. Not me.” Peter stood thinking for a longer time than the others found comfortable. Maguire whistled to prove that he was quite at ease, but he would not have whistled if he had been. “I think, Mr. Kennedy, that I’ll save you from the difficulty by nominating Mr. Porter myself,” said Peter finally. “Good!” said Maguire; and Kennedy, reaching down into his hip pocket, produced a version of the holy text not yet included in any bibliography. Evidently the atmosphere was easier. “About your speech, Mr. Stirling?” continued the Senator. “I shall say what I think right.” Something in Peter’s voice made Maguire say: “It will be of the usual kind, of course?” “I don’t know,” said Peter, “I shall tell the facts.” “What sort of facts?” “I shall tell how it is that a delegate of the sixth ward nominates Porter.” “And that is?” “I don’t see,” said Peter, “why I need say it. You know it as well as I do.” “I know of many reasons why you should do it.” “No,” said Peter. “There’s only one, and that has been created in the last ten minutes. Mr. Maguire, if you insist on the sixth ward nominating Mr. Porter, the sixth ward is going to tell why it does so. I’m sorry, for I like Porter, but the sixth ward shan’t lend itself to a fraud, if I can help it.” Kennedy had been combining things spiritual and aqueous at his wash-stand. But his interest in the blending seemed suddenly to cease. Maguire, too, took his thumbs from their havens of rest, and looked dissatisfied. “Look here, Mr. Stirling,” he said, “it’s much simpler to leave it to Kennedy. You think you’re doing what’s right, but you’ll only do harm to us, and to yourself. If you nominate Porter, the city gang won’t forgive you, and unless you can say what we want said, we shall be down on you. So you’ll break with both sides.” “I think that is so. That is why I want some real friend of Porter’s to do it.” Maguire laughed rather a forced laugh. “I suppose we’ve got to satisfy you. We’ll have Porter nominated by one of our own crowd.” “I think that’s best. Good-evening.” Peter went to the door.