“That old scamp’s villainy,” said he, jerking his thumb toward the Piazza and the statue of the Liberator. “He’s very ‘cute, but he’s made a mistake at last.”
“Do come to the point, colonel. What’s it all about?”
“Would you be surprised to hear,” said the colonel, adopting a famous mode of speech, “that the interest on the debt would not be paid on the 31st?”
“No, I shouldn’t,” said I resignedly.
“Would you be surprised to hear that no more interest would ever be paid?”
“The devil!” I cried, leaping up. “What do you mean, man?”
“The President,” said he calmly, “will, on the 31st instant, repudiate the national debt!”
I had nothing left to say. I fell back in my chair and gazed at the colonel, who was now employed in lighting a cigarette. At the same moment a sound of rapid wheels struck on my ears. Then I heard the sweet, clear voice I knew so well saying:
“I’ll just disturb him for a moment, Mr. Jones. I want him to tear himself from work for a day, and come for a ride.”
She opened my door, and came swiftly in. On seeing the colonel she took in the position, and said to that gentleman: