“A very responsible position, I assure you,” responded the ex-mayor.
“A mayor must have his hands full?”
“Quite true, my lad; the duties are arduous enough. But I felt that I owed something to the town in which I was born and raised, so I consented to run on the ticket when they asked me, and I was elected by two hundred and six majority,” responded Sinclair Basswood.
One day the ex-mayor was sitting on a side veranda, smoking a cigar, when a small-built, shrewd-looking individual approached him.
“Excuse me, but is this Mr. Sinclair Basswood,” said the newcomer, politely, after making certain that the ex-mayor was alone.
“I am that individual.”
“I mean the ex-mayor.”
“The same.”
“Very glad to meet you, Mr. Basswood; very glad indeed.” The newcomer shook hands warmly. “Excuse me, but do you know I have desired to know you for a long time.”
“Really you flatter me,” said the gratified Mr. Basswood.