"The Senator's wife. She's heart-broken over it all—didn't sleep a wink all night. I've been looking for her to faint every minute."
The leader closed his portfolio. His hollow cheeks, thin lips and white drawn face were clothed with an expression of sorrow beyond words as he slowly turned and left the scene of his life's triumphs.
The spell of his eloquence at last thrown off the crowd once more dissolved into hostile lowering groups.
Stern old Zack Chandler of Michigan collided with Jennie's father in the cloak room, his eyes red with wrath.
"Well, Barton," he growled, "after the damned insolence of that scene if the North don't fight, I'll be much mistaken—"
"You generally are, sir," Barton retorted.
"If they don't fight, by the living God, I'll leave this country and join another nation—the Comanche Indians preferred to this Government."
Barton glanced at his opponent and his heavy jaw closed with a snap.
"I trust, Senator," he said with deliberate venom, "you will not carry out that resolution—the Comanche Indians have already suffered too much from contact with the whites!"
Dick Welford heard the shot and gripped the fierce old Southerner's hand as Chandler turned on his heel and disappeared with an oath.