“I'm here in Washin'ton.”
“I have been informed that you were in the city. Well, sir?”
“Oh! knew I was here, did you? Is that so? Who told you? Tad wrote, I suppose, hey?”
The congressman did not reply immediately. This man, whom he disliked more than anyone else in the world, had an irritating faculty of putting his finger on the truth. And the flippancy in the tone was maddening. Mr. Atkins was not used to flippancy.
“I believe I am not called upon to disclose my source of information,” he said with chilling dignity. “It appears to have been trustworthy. I presume you have 'phoned me concerning the appropriation matter. I do not recognize your right to intrude in that affair, and I shall decline to discuss it. Yes, sir. To my people, to those who have a right to question, I am and shall always be willing to explain my position. Good night.”
“Wait! Hello! Hold on a minute. Don't get mad, Heman. I only wanted to say just a word. You'll let me say a word, won't you?”
This was more like it. This was more nearly the tone in which Mr. Atkins was wont to be addressed. It was possible that the man, recognizing the uselessness of further opposition, desired to surrender.
“I cannot,” declared the Honorable, “understand why you should wish to speak with me. We have very little in common, very little, I'm thankful to say. However, I will hear you briefly. Go on.”
“Much obliged. Well, Heman, I only wanted to say that I thought maybe you'd better have a little talk with me. I'm here at the hotel, the Regent. You know where 'tis, I presume likely. I guess you'd better come right down and see me.”
Heman gasped, actually gasped, with astonishment.