“That’s it,” Monahan cried, for an instant growing bolder.
They scowled at one another.
Mr. Briggs directed his look toward the young man. “I think I made no promise to you, Mr. Ferris,” he said, in a low voice.
“That’s just the trouble,” Ferris exclaimed. “We worked hard for you last night, and now we don’t propose to be put off with any vague talk.” His lip curled scornfully and showed fine, white teeth.
“You’re a little indefinite yourself, now, Mr. Ferris.”
“Well, then, I won’t be,” Ferris cried. “We nominated and elected you two years ago, and you went back on us.”
“How was that?” Briggs said, as if merely curious. His manner seemed to exasperate Ferris.
“You didn’t do a thing for us. We asked you for places, and you let ’em all go to the Civil Service men.”
“I had to observe the law,” Briggs answered, in the tone he had used before.
“Aw!” Ferris exchanged glances with his companions. “You know just as well as I do that you could have given those places to the men that had worked for you. But we’ll say nothing about that just now,” he went on, extending his right hand, with the palm turned toward the floor. “That’s off. We would have paid you back all right last night if Mr. Stone hadn’t promised you’d stand by us. He smoothed it over, and he said you realized your mistake, and all that.”