“Say it,” said the latter.
“Perhaps it had better be confidential.”
“Go right ahead. This young man is my private secretary, and knows all my business. If I should sell my soul, he'd have to know the price.”
Mr. Bulger hesitated.
“I do not need to say that your confidence will be respected by both of us,” my friend added.
“Mr. McCarthy,” said the wily Bulger, as he dropped into a chair, “I think you are likely to be nominated by the Republicans of our district for the Assembly.”
“You are too confident, Mr. Bulger,” said the hand-made gentleman. “I will bet you three thousand dollars that I am not nominated and elected this year.”
Those old models of gentlemanhood, after which Mr. McCarthy had fashioned himself, saw no harm in a wager.
The politician thought a moment and smiled. Then said he:
“I will take the bet, and am ready to post the money.”