“Disbarred! Come, it can’t be as bad as that,” said his uncle. “It’s a good, honest, Liberal Government that’s in, and they would certainly move at my request. Thank God, the days of Tory jobbery are at an end.”
“It wouldn’t do, Uncle Ned,” said Gideon.
“But you’re not mad enough,” cried Mr. Bloomfield, “to persist in trying to dispose of it yourself?”
“There is no other path open to me,” said Gideon.
“It’s not common-sense, and I will not hear of it,” cried Mr. Bloomfield. “I command you, positively, Gid, to desist from this criminal interference.”
“Very well, then, I hand it over to you,” said Gideon, “and you can do what you like with the dead body.”
“God forbid!” ejaculated the president of the Radical Club, “I’ll have nothing to do with it.”
“Then you must allow me to do the best I can,” returned his nephew. “Believe me, I have a distinct talent for this sort of difficulty.”
“We might forward it to that pest-house, the Conservative Club,” observed Mr. Bloomfield. “It might damage them in the eyes of their constituents; and it could be profitably worked up in the local journal.”
“If you see any political capital in the thing,” said Gideon, “you may have it for me.”