"They have been to see me again to-day about running for mayor on the citizens' ticket," he said at last, half-deprecatingly. "I--I almost think I will let them put my name up." (He glanced at me with a smile as he spoke, knowing that I would understand his new attitude in the matter.) "That is,--unless my friends dissuade me."
"Good enough!" cried Whyte. "Go ahead! We'll work for you to a man."
"I wondered what you and Mrs. Whyte would say about it,--and Miss Thurston," he added, haltingly.
"I can tell you that," said Mrs. Whyte, in her most decisive tones. "Katherine won't care a pin who is mayor of Saintsbury until she knows what is to come to Gene Benbow."
"Yes, of course," said Clyde, uncomfortably. "I'm awfully sorry about all this distress. If there is anything at all that I can do,--"
"Thank you," said Mrs. Whyte, somewhat loftily. "I'll tell Katherine."
And Clyde departed, knowing that in this quarter at least he was not quite forgiven for being alive and free and ambitious while Gene Benbow was lying in prison. I think that I, though his newest friend, was the one most sympathetic toward him that evening. I could understand how the relief, the new feeling of security, which had followed Barker's death, had made the whole world seem new-made for him. Besides, he had no such feeling of personal friendship for Gene as the rest of the group had.
"I'll tell Katherine all right," said Mrs. Whyte, somewhat maliciously, I thought. "Oh, yes, I'll tell Katherine that he came around to talk about the political situation, this evening of all times."
"Now, Clara," said her husband pacifically. "The nomination is an important matter, and we can't stop living just because Gene Benbow is in trouble."
"He has never liked Gene," said Mrs. Whyte, defensively. "Whenever he finds Gene here with Katherine, or finds that he has taken her out walking, or anything like that, he just stands and glowers."