The Judge did not reply. He seemed to have settled into a certain stony calm; his eyes were steady and inscrutable. Cotterill waited for an instant, then swung swiftly on. “Thing is,” he said. “You want to figure whether you’re going to stand with us, and have us back of you; or whether you want to stand with this other bunch. They were against you at the start. You know that. And they’re not going to shift now, even if you’re good to them. They’ll just figure you’re scared. You’re coming up for reelection one of these days. Maybe for a bigger job. And if we’re solid back of you, you can have anything you want. You know that, Bob. But if we split, you’re a goner. There’s the whole thing. You stick with us, and we’ll stick with you. You throw us, and we’ll--remember it. We’re not asking favors for what we have done, but for what we figure to do. See?” He stopped short, watching the other shrewdly. The Judge at first made no move, said no word. His eyes were thoughtful; and his glance was not turned toward the other man. “Do you see?” Cotterill repeated. “I--see what you mean,” said the Judge, slowly. “Then what do you say?” the fat man insisted. Judge Hosmer swung slowly to face him. There was something judicial in his tones, even and calm; and his colloquialisms were gone. “I’m not ambitious--in a political way,” he replied. Jim Cotterill watched him, marked the apparent hesitation in his answer; and the fat man licked his lips, and looked behind him toward the door with something furtive in his manner. Then jerked his chair still nearer to the other, with the buttonholing instinct always so strong in his ilk. And laughed in an unpleasant way. “All right, Bob,” he said. “All right. I get you. We’re ready to meet you on that ground, too.” “On what ground?” the Judge asked tonelessly. Cotterill whisperingly explained. “We know your affairs pretty well, Bob,” he said, assuringly. “You’ve got a reasonable salary; but it’s none too much. You like to live comfortable; and nobody blames you. Everybody feels the same way. There are a lot of folks that’d like to be friendly, help you out. If you wanted they should. And there are a lot of ways they could help you. Any way you like.” “What way?” Judge Hosmer insisted. Cotterill’s embarrassed reluctance, if such an emotion can fairly be attributed to the man, passed before the Judge’s encouraging inquiry. “There’s that mortgage,” he suggested. “I know it’s a burden to you. It ain’t that you need the money. You’re paying six per cent. on it, and making more than that on the money it releases for you. Pays any man with a business head to borrow at six per cent. That’s all right. But maybe there are times when you fret a little bit about that mortgage. Well, Judge, you don’t need to. Easiest thing in the world to have it tore up. All you got to do is say the word.” The Judge did not say the word. Cotterill pursued the subject.