One of the men was standing by a window, peering through a field-glass at the more ardent and impervious enthusiasts who were still following the ball. “The rain's letting up a bit,” he said at length. “You can really see things--hello!” The group before the fire turned toward him, attracted by the long silence which followed the exclamation. They saw a look of puzzlement on his face which gradually gave place to a broad grin. “What's up?” asked somebody. “By George,” he exclaimed, lowering the glass, “that's funny.” He raised the glass again and this time his shoulders shook. “I didn't know anybody out on the links could be as funny as that,” one of the girls observed. “He isn't on the links,” answered the man with the glass, “he's on the bridge. And the horse is turning round and going back.” With which singularly lucid preface, the young man told what he had seen of the General's victory at the Oakwood bridge. It was about fifteen minutes later when Sporty appeared, dripping and mud bespattered, but kept warm by glowing fires of indignation, and vigorously demanded of the attendant the use of the telephone. At the sound of his voice one of the older men turned quickly and approached him with a word of greeting. “But what's the matter with you, man?” he added, noting the Senator's sorry condition. “They're having a riot on the railroad,” answered Sporty. “Can I use your 'phone?” “Sure,” answered the other. “Right this way,” and the two men crossed the hall and disappeared in the office. A few minutes later the man came back and rejoined the group. “He's State Senator Jones, Sporty Jones, you know. He says they're having no end of a time over on the railroad. When I left him he seemed to be trying to telephone all over the State at once.” “I've heard of him,” said Katherine, “but I've never met him. I wish you'd bring him here after he gets through telephoning.” And the man with some surprise said he would. The Senator did not reappear from the office for nearly an hour, and in that time he worked fast. He began by calling up Representative Jim Cleary of the Seventh District, a man with influence who happened to be in the capital on business. The Senator wasted no oratory on him, he simply told him what it was necessary to do. After that he talked with other men about the State, and repeated what he had said to Jim Cleary, suggesting to them the proper way for putting “pressure” on the Governor. Then, having prepared his avalanche, he telephoned to the executive mansion and asked for the Governor. He learned from the Secretary that the Governor was busy, but would be at liberty in a few minutes. “All right,” said Sporty. “Let me know when he's ready to talk to me.” He rang off and rose from his chair, stiffly, for the damp and the cold had struck through. The man he knew appeared at his elbow, and leading him in to the fire introduced him to those who were still grouped about it, to Katherine last of all.