“It took me longer than I thought, for Maguire was there.”
“Indeed!” said Costell, making room for Peter on the window-ledge.
Peter re-lit his cigar, “Maguire promises me that Porter shall be nominated by one of his friends.”
“He had been trying Kennedy?”
“I didn’t ask.”
Costell smiled. “I had no business to ask you that?”
“No,” Peter said frankly.
Both puffed their cigars for a time in silence.
Then Costell began talking about Saratoga. He told Peter where the “Congress” spring was, and what was worth seeing. Finally he rose to go. He held out his hand, and said:
“Mr. Stirling, you’ve been as true as steel with us, and with the other men. I don’t want you to suppose we are not conscious of it. I think you’ve done us a great service to-night, although it might have been very profitable to you if you had done otherwise. I don’t think that you’ll lose by it in the long run, but I’m going to thank you now, for myself. Good-night.”