The General grasped his hand. They were at the car steps. "It shall be
'Boots and saddles!' three weeks from to-day!"
Linton was in the parlors of the hotel with the Presson party when Harlan arrived, glowing with his new enthusiasm, confident in his new elevation in the affairs of men. In the affairs of women he was not quite as sure of his desires or his standing, but his mood was new, and he realized it. He went straight to Madeleine Presson. Twenty-four hours before the presence of Linton at her side would have held him aloof.
He put out his hand to the young lawyer, and Linton took it.
"I extend my congratulations rather late, but they are sincere. It was a noble speech. You put in words my own thoughts regarding a noble man."
"Perhaps you could have expressed those thoughts just as well as I did."
Linton was not cordial.
"No, sir, not with a woodsman's vocabulary, though with such a text I certainly should have felt the true inspiration."
"You'll have to claim considerable political foresight, even though you cast doubt on your eloquence," said Linton, rather sourly. "I'll confess that I jumped wrong. But I had my interests to protect. Let me ask you—is General Waymouth offended, very much so, because I withdrew my support this morning?"
"General Waymouth has not made any comments on the matter in my hearing."
"I know you can explain to him—"
Harlan broke in, impatiently: