He opened his eyes. Rockwell was regarding him steadily. "I don't wonder you feel done up," he said. "It was splendid, my boy. You spoke like a veteran. You ought to go into public life on your own. Perhaps you will." He seemed to meditate. Then: "You saw Crockett, I suppose?"
"No!" exclaimed Merriam.
"Didn't you? He was seated six places to your right at the speakers' table. Right in line with you, of course. Not strange you missed him. Just as well, perhaps. It might have shaken even your nerve."
The phrase "even your nerve" was pleasant praise to Merriam. He had never thought of himself as possessed of any exceptional sang froid. But perhaps he had behaved with rather creditable composure in a trying situation.
"He was shaken, I can tell you," Rockwell was saying. "Lord, I was on pins! I didn't know but what when you rose to speak he would jump up and denounce you. But not he. He simply lay back and stared and kept moistening his lips. I suppose he couldn't make up his mind for sure whether you were the Senator or the double or whether he himself had gone crazy or not. We'll hear from him, though," he added reflectively.
"I suppose so," said Merriam wearily. "I wish to Heaven we were clean through the thing!" That feeling had come suddenly, and for the moment he meant it, though he was having the time of his life.
"So do I," said Rockwell heartily. "But we're not. Not by a long shot. So you must buck up. Here's the hotel. You shall have a real meal now. That'll put heart into you again."
The machine stopped, and the door was opened.
"Quick time, now!" Rockwell whispered.
Senator Norman and his new political manager, Mr. Rockwell of the Reform League, rushed almost precipitately into the lobby of the Hotel De Soto and made a bee line for the nearest elevator. It was obvious that important business urgently called them, for they merely nodded hurriedly in response to several cordial salutations.