"What business is it of yours?" asked the victim of this torrent of questions as he stared from between the folds of his woolen scarf at the unlighted gas log.
Merriam really was asking for information, but the politician could not know this. It seemed to him the last insult--and repudiation. He fell back a step dramatically.
"So that's it!" he cried. "After I've managed two campaigns for you! I've done your dirty work for ten years! And now, over night, what business is it of mine? You throw me over! And all your friends. The men who sent you to the Senate of the United States and kept you there. And what for? To join that fool Black! And the Reform League, I suppose. Philip Rockwell and his gang of preachers and short-haired women and long-haired mollycoddles! You'll appeal to the dear People! Bah!"
Thompson had by this time apparently forgotten entirely the presence of Aunt Mary and Simpson. He snatched a cigar from his waistcoat pocket and bit the end off it, produced a match from somewhere, and lighted it, emitting volumes of smoke. He thumped with his newspaper on the arm of Merriam's chair and in an impressively lowered tone continued:
"Listen to me. It won't do, Senator. You can't get away with it. Not you. Reform and the people and pure politics and all that. If you'd started in on that line twenty years ago,--may be! I don't say it couldn't be made to pay. But not by you, at this time of day. It's too late. You've tied up with the other gang. They know you. They know too much about you. They won't let you do it. It's no use trying. Of course, if you're tired of your job--if you're hankering to quit--if you want to go down in a grand smash,--all right! But if you want to stay in the United States Senate, there's just one way you can do it, and that's to play the old game in the old way with the old crowd. Savez?"
All this was a trifle hard on young Merriam. Thompson had told who he was, so that the boy realised the critical character of the interview. But there was so much else he needed to know. How had the real Norman been in the habit of treating this man? How would he probably have acted in such a situation as they were pretending? The only thing he could do was to say as little as possible. Now that it was necessary to make some response, what he said was:
"We'll see about that."
Thompson was rather encouraged than otherwise by this remark. He had not, of course, expected any immediate acquiescence.
"You'll see all right if you keep on," he retorted with elephantine irony. "But for God's sake, Senator, try to see things in time. It's not too late yet. Turn the Mayor down. You aren't committed openly. He is, but you aren't. Let him go smash alone. He was always a fool! You can swear to Crockett that you told Black to veto. It don't matter whether he believes you or not. He'll take you back. This Ordinance business don't matter. They'll fix that some way. There are bigger things than that coming, and they know how useful you can be. You can't keep on with this other."
"Can't I?" asked Merriam, not unskillfully fishing for further revelations.