"Somebody did," growled Bowers, and spat our his mangled cigar.
"Yes; I ran against a man with a memory."
"It wasn't on the square, Ross. It'll hurt you."
Shelby eyed him shrewdly.
"You read speeches in Washington that I wrote," he reminded.
"That's different. Lots of congressmen do that,—even senators.
They're not posted on everything."
"No," Shelby agreed, with an irony too subtle for Bowers; "they certainly are not. However, there's no need to borrow trouble over this thing. People will laugh a little, say it was a good speech, wherever I got it, and vote the straight party ticket despite Bernard Graves."
"Graves," said Bowers. "What has he to do with it?"
"Everything; he's the little joker with the memory."
Bowers whistled.