"Oh, I say," protested Baldwin, with a show of indignation, "I can't ask her to get into anything like this."
"She probably was willing enough to get into it until she thought the boy didn't have any money," replied Edwards coldly. "I don't want the girl to do anything wrong. Just get her to make up with this McCarthy, or whatever his name is, and get him away from this ball team for a week. Baldwin, this is getting to be a serious matter with me, and with you, too, if you want to hold your political power."
"All right, all right," said Baldwin hastily. "Maybe I can persuade the girl to help us out. I'll try."
"You'd better succeed—if you want to send your man to the Senate," said Edwards threateningly.
"I'll go right away," assented the politician.
Baldwin arose leisurely, went down to his limousine that was waiting and ordered the man to drive home, although it was his custom to remain downtown until late. At home he sent at once for his niece, and, after a brief talk, during which he was careful to hint that McCarthy had made overtures toward reconciliation with his uncle, the girl went to the telephone.
McCarthy, summoned to the telephone, talked for a few moments and, as the poker game broke up, he called Swanson aside and said:
"You'll have to go alone to-night. I've got to make a call."
"Who is she?" asked Swanson insinuatingly.
"Barney Baldwin's niece—and at his house."