"Why, yes; he intimated that there might be some public speaking," admitted the younger man.
"Well, what-all are you going to tell these Ophir fellows when you get over there, son?" asked the veteran quizzically. "Going to offer 'em all free passes anywhere they want to go if they'll promise to vote for the railroad candidates?"
"Not this year," was the laughing reply. "As I told you a while back, we've stopped all that."
"You have, eh? I reckon that will be mighty sorry news for a good many people in the old Sage-brush State—mighty sorry news. You really reckon you have stopped it, do you, son?"
"I not only believe it; I am in a position to assert it definitely."
"McVickar has told you it was stopped?"
The newly fledged political manager tried to be strictly truthful.
"I have had but the one interview with Mr. McVickar, but in that talk he gave me to understand that my recommendations would be given due consideration. And I have said my say pretty emphatically."
The senator's smile was not derisive; it was merely lenient.
"Sat on 'em good and hard, did you? That's right, son; don't you ever be afraid to say what you mean, and to say it straight from the shoulder. That's the Blount way, and I reckon we've got to keep the family ball rolling—you and I. Don't forget that, when you're making your appeal to those horny-handed sons of toil over yonder at Ophir. Give 'em straight facts, and back up the facts with figures—if you happen to have the figures. When do you pull out for the mining-camp?"