"I shall have to give this matter much thought. You shall have my answer—
"To-morrow night," Nevins interjects. "Delays are dangerous. The convention meets in two weeks time."
"To-morrow night, then," assents Trueman.
Nevins leaves abruptly. He does not wish to weaken the effect he has produced on Trueman by further discussion.
When he finds himself alone Trueman walks back and forth in the cramped room. He is weighing a question that has never before been put to a man.
There is no doubt in his mind as to the sincerity of Nevins. It is clear that this strange man, who, in a matter-of-fact way, asserts that he holds the power of a great convention in his grasp, could have used it for base ends; he could have chosen a man of less inflexible character than Trueman.
"If I can bring myself to believe that it is because of my honesty that
Nevins has selected me, I shall give him my consent."
Trueman makes this mental reservation, then turns to the table and writes a long letter to Martha. He sets the matter before her, tells her he will enter politics, and asks for her advice. Regarding the Committee of Forty, he tells her all he knows, which is to the effect that it has been appointed to investigate the work of the Trusts and to make a full report at the next Anti-Trust Conference.
He then goes to his bed. It is daylight before his mind has exhausted itself. He sleeps until midday. On awakening he renews the consideration of Nevins' proposal. At eight o'clock in the evening Nevins arrives.
Where Nevins had been the one to speak the night before, Trueman now enters upon an exhaustive interrogatory. He asks for the most minute particulars of the events that have brought him to the notice of Nevins. To all his questions there is an instant reply. At the conclusion of three hours Trueman definitely makes up his mind to try for the candidacy.