"You'll act as my friend, won't you?" begged Rhinds, tremulously. "You'll show Townsley the absurdity of this whole business. Simms, I look to your friendship, for you are my friend, aren't you?"
"Possibly," nodded the other, dryly. "But I'm also a Congressman, responsible to my district, my state and the whole country. Now, Rhinds, the whole thing is just here. I'm going to look into this matter, and I'm going to sift it all I can. If I find you're innocent beyond a question—then—well, you know I'm a pretty good fighter."
"Yes, yes; you'll fight my enemies to a standstill," cried Rhinds, piteously.
"But, if I find the facts against you, then my hands are tied."
"If—if it's a question of money—" stammered the submarine man.
"Money?" demanded the Congressman, crisply. "What for?"
"Why—er—er—for expenses."
"I can pay my own expenses, Rhinds, in a matter that affects the good name of my district. Now, give me your side of this affair."
For an hour the two men remained talking. Rhinds fought for himself as hard as he could, for he was beginning to suspect that a mere matter of politics would not move the Congressman much in this case.
"Now, I'll leave you for a while, Rhinds, and I'll move fast," promised the Congressman, rising. "But I advise you to stay right here. I may want to see you at any moment."