"Oh, yes, he's able to travel," replied Dodder. "He was here only a week ago. He seems to be making a tour of the Eastern cities. I guess he's looking for something."
"An editor, likely, who has lost some of his manuscripts," remarked Hemming.
"Or a girl," said the other.
"Why a girl?" asked the Englishman.
Dodder smiled pensively. "I like to think so," he said, "for though I am nothing but a corpulent business slave myself, I've a fine active brain for romance, and the heart of a Lochinvar."
Hemming nodded gravely. Dodder laughed at him. "You are thinking what a devilish big horse I need," he said.
They dined together that evening at the Reform Club, and Hemming was amazed at the quantity of food the big man consumed. He had seen O'Rourke, the long, lean, and broad, sit up to some hearty meals after a day in the saddle, but never had he met with an appetite like Dodder's. It was the appetite of his ancestral lumbermen, changed a little in taste, perhaps, but the same in vigour.
War was in order between the United States of America and Spain. General Shafter's army was massing in Tampa, Florida, and Hemming, with letters from the syndicate, started for Washington to procure a pass from the War Office. But on the night before his departure from New York came news from London of his book, and the first batch of proof-sheets for correction. He worked until far into the morning, and mailed the proofs, together with a letter, before breakfast. Arriving in Washington, he went immediately to the War Department building, and handed in his letters. The clerk returned and asked him to follow to an inner room. There he found a pale young man, with an imposing, closely printed document in his hand.
"Captain Hemming?" inquired the gentleman.
Hemming bowed.