The General did not quite like the question, nor the tone in which it was asked. His fat nose glistened for a moment, while his mouth twisted into a smile, and he answered,
“They’re only for Belch as far as Belch is for them—”
“Or as far as Belch makes them think he is,” answered Abel, smiling.
The General smiled too, for he found the game going against him.
“We were speaking of your speech,” said he. “Now, Newt, the thing’s in your own hands. You’ve a future before you. With the drill of the party, and with your talents, you ought to do any thing.”
“Too many rivals,” said Abel, curtly.
“My dear fellow, what are the odds? They can’t do any thing outside the party, or without the drill. Make it their interest not to be ambitious, and they’re quiet enough. Here’s William Condor—lovely, lovely William. He loves the people so dearly that he does nothing for them at twenty thousand dollars a year. Tell him that you will secure him his place, and he’s your humble servant. Of course he is. Now I am more familiar with the details of these things, and I’m always at your service. Before you go, there will be a caucus of the friends of the grant, which you must attend, and make a speech.”
“Another speech?” said Abel.
“My dear fellow, you are now a speech-maker by profession. Now that you are in Congress, you will never be free from the oratorical liability. Wherever two or three are gathered together, and you are one of them, you’ll have to return thanks, and wave the glorious flag of our country. And you’ll have to begin very soon.”