“You've stumbled on a red hot Hardy ratification meeting. Did you come to get into the bandwagon while there is time, Tim?” Jeff asked with twinkling eyes.
“No sinking ship for mine. I guess I wouldn't ratify yet a while if I were youse, Farnum.”
He stood aside to let the editor of the World pass. Jeff laughed. “Go to it, Tim.”
“I haven't got anything to say to you, Mr. O'Brien,” the mill man announced with heightened color.
“Maybe I've got something to say to youse, Mr. Killen.”
Jeff passed out smiling. “Well, I'll not interrupt you. See you to-morrow, Sam.”
Big Tim sat down heavily in a chair and pulled from his vest pocket a fat black cigar.
“Smoke, Killen?”
“No, thanks.” The legislator spoke with stiff dignity.
Big Tim looked at the other man and his paunch shook with the merriment that appeared to convulse him.