Garwood hesitated, as though to give the question some thought. Steisfloss and Rankin both looked at him while he was reaching his decision. At last he said, as thought he were conferring a favor:
“I believe you may make me a manhattan cocktail, Chris.”
Steisfloss paused, but only for an instant, and then he said promptly:
“I’m sorry, Mr. Garwood, but I’m out o’ manhattan.”
Garwood glanced at him and smiled faintly. Steisfloss detected the smile, and Garwood instantly feared he had lost, not only a vote, but the influence of a saloon. Rankin sprang to the rescue of both.
“Aw, take a beer,” he said.
“No,” said Garwood. “I haven’t been very well lately—I reckon you can give me some bourbon.”
“That Washington living’s too high fer you, eh?” said Rankin genially. But he saw that Garwood again was displeased and so hastened to mollify him, by adding:
“Oh well, you’ll be all right. It’s this hot weather. You’ll be all right when you’re rested out. You ought to go away somewhere and take a vacation.”
“Yes,” said Garwood, quickly assenting to the proposition, “Senator Ames wanted me to go with him to Rye Beach later on—reckon I’ll have to.”