"Thank ye kindly, Mr. Brassfield," said Conlon, all his obsequiousness returning. "Thank ye! Annything new in politics, Mr. Brassfield?"
"I don't know a thing," said Brassfield. "I'm so busy with other things, you know——"
"It'll be a great honor," said Conlon, "or so I should take it, to be the mare of the city, an' the master of the fine new house an' all that'll be in it, all this same spring!"
"Yes, Conlon, yes—but as to the office—I don't know about that."
"They can't bate you," asseverated Conlon promptly.
"Oh, I don't know," demurred Brassfield. "You can't always tell."
"We're wid ye, to a man," asserted Conlon unhesitatingly, growing warmer. "The common people are wid ye!"
"I'm glad to hear that," said Brassfield, "very glad. But business first; and this pipe-line is business. Of course, if the people demand it——"
"They will!"
"—why, I may—— I'll see, Conlon. Anyhow, I appreciate your friendship. Come up and see me."