“How? I’d like to know; how?”
“Why, Pusey’s fellers is easy—you can get enough o’ them.”
“How?” Garwood spoke in the hollow sternness of despair.
“Buy ’em.”
And then the congressman threw back his head and laughed.
“Buy ’em, indeed!” he laughed bitterly. “Buy ’em, indeed! Why, man, I haven’t got through paying my debts from the last campaign!”
“Why, you get a sal’ry.”
“Yes, but it costs to live in Washington—God, how it costs! And with a family here at home in the bargain!”
“Well—there’s the old man.”
“Oh, hell!” said Garwood, rising in total loss of patience, “I’m tired of hearing this everlasting twaddle about the old man! He’s not rich, in the first place, and now that he’s out of the bank he’s poorer than ever. You people out here in the wilderness think because a man was once president of a little country bank, he’s a millionaire. He hasn’t anything any more.”