"A member of his own family? That is very singular, isn't it?"
"It is, and it isn't. The man who was sent with the bribe money has every qualification for the job, I should say, save one—discretion. And I'm not sure that he may not be discreet enough, when he isn't drunk."
Again I saw the curious look in her eyes, and this time it was almost like the shrinking from a blow.
"Was there—was this thing that was done actually criminal?" she asked, just breathing it at him.
"It was, indeed. The election laws of this State have teeth. It is a penitentiary offense to bribe either the electorate or the law-makers."
There was silence for a little time, and she was no longer looking at him; she was staring into the heart of the glowing coals in the grate basket. By and by she said: "You haven't told me this man's name—the one who did the bribing; may I know it?"
I knew just what the boss was going to do, and he did it; took the slip of paper that Dedmon had written on from his pocket and passed it across to her. If there was another shock for her none of us could see it. She had her face turned away when she looked at the name on the paper. Pretty soon she said, sort of drearily:
"Once you told me that the true test of any human being came when he was asked to eliminate the personal factor; to efface himself completely in order that his cause might prosper. Do you still believe that?"
"Of course. It's all in the day's work. Any cause worth while is vastly bigger than any man who is trying to advance it."
"Than any man, yes; but for a woman, Graham; wouldn't you allow something for the woman?"