"I'll wait one day longer. Then, if not a pupil applies, I'll go to my uncle—"
He waited twenty-four hours. Not a pupil. Then, desperate and discouraged at last, Salmon buttoned his coat, and walked fast through the streets to his uncle's boarding-house.
It was evening. The Senator was at home.
"Well, Salmon?" inquiringly. "How do you get on?"
"Poorly," said Salmon, sitting down, with his hat on his knee.
"You must have patience, boy!" said the Senator, laying down a pamphlet open at the page where he was reading when his nephew came in. "Pluck and patience,—those are the two oars that pull the boat."
"I have patience enough, and I don't think I'm lacking in pluck," replied Salmon, coldly. "But one thing I lack, and am likely to lack,—pupils, I've only one, and I expect every day to lose him."
"Well, what can I do for you?" said the Senator, perceiving that his nephew had come for something.
"I would like to have you get me a place in the Treasury Department."
It was a minute before Dudley Chase replied. He took up the pamphlet, rolled it together, then threw it abruptly upon the table.