"What did he say to that?" chuckled Ardly.
"He: 'Ardly can sustain them, I suppose.'
"I: 'Don't know, I'm sure. Would like to have your opinion.'
"He: 'It seems to me that you are in a better position to pass judgment on that point than I am.'
"I: 'But the standards are not the same, father.' (That 'father' ripped out as pat as possible.)
"He (rather bored): 'Oh, he is a fine fellow. I wish there were more like him.'"
"He is a fine fellow himself," retorted Ardly, loyally.
Nevins examined his brushes complacently. "If I were a Tammanyite," he said, "I'd post his certificate in the districts lying off the Bowery."
"It would be a shame," returned Ardly. Then he smiled. "By Jove! I believe if those districts knew Algarcife favored the little finger of a candidate, they would swallow the whole Tammany ticket."
"Queer influence, isn't it?"