"That's him!" cried a voice.
"Who?"
"The fellow that writes; Henderson's man."
"Salt licks for him!" came in derision.
"He'll give Donnelly a run for the money."
"Not in a thousand years!"
All this amused Warrington.
"How d' y' do, Mr. Warrington?"
A hand touched the prospective candidate on the arm. Warrington saw Osborne's rubicund nose.
"So you're out, too, Mr. Osborne?"