Curt Keefe looked straight at him. “Well,” he laughed, “I’m quite ready to admit that the wish was father to the thought.”
“Why do you call that an admission?”
“Oh,” Keefe readily returned, “it is usually looked upon as a confession that one has no reason for a thought other than a wish.”
“And why is it your wish?”
“Because it is the wish of my employer,” said Keefe, seriously. “I know of no reason, Mr. Wheeler, why I shouldn’t say that I hope and trust you will use your influence to further the cause of young Appleby.”
“What makes you think I can do so?”
“While I am not entirely in Mr. Appleby’s confidence, he has told me that the campaign would be greatly aided by your willingness to help, and so I can’t help hoping you will exercise it.”
“Appleby has told you so much, has he? No more?”
“No more, I think, regarding yourself, sir. I know, naturally, the details of the campaign so far as it is yet mapped out.”
“And you know why I do not want to lend my aid?”