"I'm sure I don't," cried John Harmon; "and I'd like to find the honest man who does! Didn't you pledge yourself to use your influence, if elected, to have Blake removed?"
"Don't speak so loud!" whispered the Honorable member, who didn't at all fancy the humorous smile on the Assistant's face. "It's all right, I assure you. But this isn't exactly the place to talk over the affair. Come with me to my lodgings, and we'll discuss the matter."
Not averse to discussion, John Harmon consented to the proposal.
"I beg your pardon," said the Assistant Post Master General, "but that paper,—I cannot suffer that to be removed."
It was the fatal letter. John Harmon wanted it; the Honorable member wanted it still more; but the Assistant insisted, and the document was left behind.
Now, the Honorable member was in what is commonly termed a "fix." Like too many such politicians, who, nevertheless, as Mark Antony says, are "all honorable men," he had found it convenient to adopt the "good Lord, good devil" policy, using two oars to row his boat into the comfortable haven of public office.
Accordingly, while gently drawing figmative wool over the visual organs of the radical temperance people, he had managed, at the same time, by private pledges, to conciliate Atkins, Blake & Company, and secure the silence of the Goblet. Once elected, he did not fail to look forward to a future election, in view of which he considered it expedient to smile upon one faction with one side of his face, and grin upon the opposition with the other.
For this double-dealing, honest, honest Iago,—we mean honest John Harmon—called the member to account.
How the affair was settled is not generally known. But one thing is positive. The Honorable member and the delegate from Harrowfork suddenly blossomed into excellent and enduring friends; and not long after, Mr. John Harmon became the occupant of a snug berth at the seat of Government, supposed to have been obtained through the influence of the Honorable member from his District.
"How about Blake and the post-office?" inquired Mr. Forrester Wilcox, the morning he left Washington.