Amos nodded. B. B. said: “Good morning.”
Wint looked around at the sparse furnishings of the room. “You’ve caught me early,” he said. “I’m not dressed yet.” And he added: “I can’t offer you both a chair, because there’s only one chair.”
“Me,” said Amos, “I’ll sit on the bed. B. B., sit down.”
Wint remained on his feet. “Well,” he asked, a challenge in his voice, “what’s on your mind?”
Amos leaned back against the wall and began to fill his pipe. “Nothing much, Wint,” he said slowly. “We come down here principally to shake you by the hand. Don’t let me forget t’ do it, before I go.”
His tone was friendly and reassuring. Wint wondered just what he meant. He smiled a little, and said: “All right.”
“Thought you might be glad to see your friends,” Amos added; and Wint said, with lips a little white:
“I would be.”
“Well,” Amos told him. “Here’s two of us.”
Wint looked at the Congressman; and he looked at B. B. B. B. said quietly: “That was a fine thing you did last night, Wint.”