Mr. Ironwood skilfully rocked his chair upon its two hind legs, a mocking smile upon his lips.
"Ever see a bit of woodland that was half trees and two-thirds rocks?" he said.
"I was brought up on just such a place," said Mr. Thorn.
"Ever fight a fire there?"
"Many a time."
"H'm—I thought perhaps you hadn't," said the Congressman. "Well, Mr. Thorn, this district is not represented at West Point just now; last appointment resigned some months ago, and I suppose it had better be filled. And this young man doesn't look as if he would give the Tacs more trouble than common. And if they go for him, that is his lookout and not mine."
"Who are the Tacs, sir?" inquired Magnus.
"Men who come round every morning to see if you have washed your face," said Mr. Ironwood, without moving a muscle of his own. "And every night, to tuck you up and bring away the light."
Magnus coloured indignantly; but a certain twinkle in Mr. Ironwood's eye kept him silent.
"What do they teach there, chiefly?" said Mr. Thorn. "What had Magnus better learn before he goes?"