"I'm the proprietor and the place is at yo' disposal. Supposin' you stop with me while youah in the city. I'll sho treat y' right."
Sidney believed him, but his appearance made him hesitant. He looked questioningly at his companion. The other's expression was unfavorable to Jackson. So, after a pause and a perfunctory nod, they dismissed him and proceeded to look further in quest of accommodation.
An hour or more was thus lost, and, being unable to find a room that satisfied them, they at last, with some reluctance, found their way to The Jackson House.
Inspection still left them dissatisfied, but it was getting late, so they decided to spend the night. Jackson showed them to what he termed his "best room." Wyeth looked with evident disfavor about the walls that were heavy with cob webs, while the windowsill was as heavy with dust. Jackson, following his gaze, hastily offered apology and excuse.
"Eve'thing needs a little dusting up, and the reason you happen to find things as you do, is because I've been so busy with politics of late, that I have jes' nach'elly neglected my business".
Ah! That was it, thought Sidney. He had felt this man was in some way out of the ordinary. "So you're a politician?" he queried, observing him carefully now.
"You hit it, son," he chuckled. "Yeh; that's my line, sho." Turning now, with his face wreathed in smiles, he continued: "Big 'lection on in a few days, too."
"So I understand," said Sidney. "I shall be glad to talk with you regarding the same at your convenience later," and, paying him for the room, they betook themselves to the street.
Election day was on, and Jackson was the busiest man in town. He was what may be called a "good mixer," to say the least, and Sidney and he had become good friends. So said Jackson that morning.
"Got a big job on t'day, kid; yeh, a big job."