The committee was in no haste to speak. Its members dined luxuriously in their private car, and invited to join them those whom they thought worthy of the honor—only a very few besides the ladies. Among these was Harley; but it was Jimmy Grayson who took him.
The conversation was exclusively commercial and financial. Mr. Goodnight, Mr. Crayon, and their associates were well aware that the whole science of government pertained to the development of trade, and it was the business of a people, as well as of a man, to stick to the main point. It was for this reason, too, that Mr. Crayon incidentally let it be understood that he did not value a college education. He had several university graduates working for him on small salaries, while he had never been inside the walls of a university, and that was the beginning and end of the matter; there could be no further discussion.
"I understand you are connected with the press," he said to Harley, who sat in the next chair. "I should think there was not much in that; but still, with careful, diligent man, it might serve as opening into financial circles. You must come in contact with men of importance. I know a man, originally a writer for press, who has risen to be a bank cashier. Worthy fellow."
"I am sure that he must be," said Harley, and Mr. Crayon's opinion of him rose.
The atmosphere of which Hobart spoke with such emphasis did not permeate the special car. There was no sign of trouble around the bountiful dining-table. The committee had its own way and did all the talking, leaving Mr. Grayson, Mr. Heathcote, and the others in silence. Hence there was no chance of a disagreement, and, as Harley judged, Mr. Goodnight and Mr. Crayon were assured that this pleasant state of affairs would continue.
Mr. Crayon, who was pleased with his neighbor, again gave Mr. Harley enlightenment. He asked him about the country through which they were passing, and was kind enough to consider his information of some weight. But he permitted Harley to furnish only the premises; it was reserved for himself to draw the conclusions; he predicted with absolute certainty the future of this region and the amount of revenue it would yield through its threefold interests—agricultural, pastoral, and mineral. He added that only the trained mind could make these accurate estimates.
"Well, what happened?" asked Hobart, when Harley returned to his own car.
"Nothing."
"Nothing? Maybe so, but it won't remain nothing long. You just wait and see."
Sylvia, to whom these men were, of course, polite, summed them up very accurately in a remark that she made to Harley.