"Of what, sir?"
"He didn't look like giving three cheers when I told him in the mill office that we had been ordered out."
"Mayor Morrison called me on the telephone in the middle of the day and I explained to him why it was thought necessary to have the State House guarded."
"And what did he say?" urged the captain, still more eagerly. Again he caught himself. He saluted. "I beg your pardon, General Totten. I have no right to put questions to my superior officer."
But General Totten was not a military martinet. He was an amiable gentleman from civil life, strong with the proletariat because he had been through the chairs in many fraternal organizations and, therefore, handy in politics; and he was strong with the Governor on account of another fraternal tie—his sister was the Governor's wife. General Totten, as a professional mixer, enjoyed a chat.
"That's all right, Captain! What did the mayor say, you ask? He courteously made no comment. Official tact! He is well gifted in that line. His manner spoke for him—signified his complete agreement. He was cordially polite! Very!"
The general put on his cap and slanted it at a jaunty angle. "And he still approves. Is very grateful for the manner in which I'm handling the situation. He called me only a few minutes ago. From his residence! I informed him that all was serene on Capitol Hill."
"And what did he say when he called you this time?"
"Nothing! Oh, nothing by way of criticism! Distinctly affable!"
Captain Sweetsir did not display the enthusiasm that General Totten seemed to expect.