"Mahomet is somewhat stricken in years, and night travel impairs his digestion, but if need be, he can come to the mountain still."
"It was the governor of the state your message offended," said Shelby, quietly. "Personally I'm not thin-skinned, as you know."
"Yet, in my poor way—" the Boss included the chamber in a comprehensive gesture.
"Yes; in last analysis you put me here. I don't forget that."
The leader shrugged.
"You were always so devilishly direct, Ross," he let fall good-humoredly.
"It's your besetting sin, and spoiled the making of a clever politician.
You lack the diplomatic instinct."
Shelby proved him in the right immediately.
"You've come about the canal bill," he said. "Sit down."
"Yes; the canal bill—and other matters."
He laid his hat and stick upon a desk, and drawing a chair beside Shelby's near a window embrasure, leaned to him, chin in hand, as in the days of their hand-in-glove intimacy. "Between us two plain speech after all is best," he went on. "You've no mistaken notions about me. You recognize the newspaper bogy which goes by my name as a caricature. You know that I am as proud of this state in my way as you are in your way. You know also the manner and method of my ascendency in state affairs, and by the same insight you know its scope."