"That’s it!" he said. "That’s the talk. We ought to have had some of that kind of medicine long ago. Look at all this recent drug-legislation, for instance. You can’t imagine what my firm’s been up against. They’re getting an appetite for the wholesale drug-trade now, these big fellows are, and they’re paving their way by lobbies at Washington and Albany and half a dozen state capitals!" The three worked over the letter for the rest of that day, having a scanty luncheon brought into the office from a nearby restaurant, and talking plans while they ate. All the time callers were sending in their names with requests for interviews, workers were reporting, men at the telephone were ringing up to ask instructions, and clerks and stenographers were running in and out to deliver telegrams and special-delivery letters and to receive replies. Luke’s only appreciable pause was to read two notes of congratulation from his mother and Jane, the former commending him for adopting a course that the writer was sure her husband would have adopted had he lived, the latter full of pride in his approaching success, but ending with the postscript: "Jesse [Jesse Kinzer was Jane’s husband, the new Congressman] says that conditions in New York are ’purely local,’ whatever that means." Altogether, Luke had a busy day. He was a tired man when, at nine o’clock, he again rang the bell of the Forbes house in Brooklyn. §5. To Luke’s surprise, it was Forbes himself that opened the door. "I’ve been looking for you," he said seriously. "Can you come into the library? I want to see you for a few minutes. It’s important." The concluding words were unnecessary. The tone of the words that preceded them would alone have been sufficient to warn Luke of trouble: Forbes’s voice was husky, tense, uncertain. "Of course," Luke assented. He followed Forbes into the library, and there, as the host closed the door, Luke saw in the face that confronted him an expression which conformed with the tone and import of Forbes’s first words. The elder man’s face was haggard. "I shall have to tell you something," he was saying—"something that I ought to have told you long ago, or as much of it as had happened then. But, you see, I had no idea it could be so important—ever be so important." He broke off with a remembrance of his accustomed courtesy: "I beg your pardon. Won’t you sit down, Huber? I quite forgot to ask you. For my part, I couldn’t sit still if my life depended on it." Luke stood by the center-table. "No, no," he said. "Don’t bother—and don’t worry." He thought that Forbes looked as if death were in the house. "Is anything wrong with Betty?" he suddenly asked. "No, it’s not that. It’s what I say. Of course I never supposed your going in for the Municipal Reform League movement could have any business significance——" Luke, relieved about Betty, was unable to follow Forbes’s disjointed sentences.