But she was wrong. Mrs. Murdoch went out to see a neighbor after breakfast, and before noon it was certain that if seven old men of Mertonville had paid for the silk, at least seven elderly women could be found who were very willing to make it up.
About that time Jack was walking up to the door of the Senate Chamber, in the Capitol, at Albany, after having astonished himself by long walks and gazings through the halls and side passages.
"It's true enough," he said to himself. "The Governor's right. No fellow could go through this and come out just as he came in."
He understood about the "twenty tons of pure gold" in the building, but nevertheless he could not keep from looking all around after signs of it.
"There's plenty of gilding," he said, "but it's very thin. It's all finished, too. I don't see what more they could do, now the roof's on and it's all painted. He must have been joking when he said that."
Jack roamed all over the Capitol, for the Legislature was not in session, and the building was open to sight-seers. There were many of them, and from visitors, workmen, and some boys whom he met, Jack managed to find out many interesting things.
The Assembly Chamber seemed to him a truly wonderful room, and upon the floor were several groups of people admiring it.
He saw one visitor seat himself in the Speaker's chair. "There's room in that chair for two or three small men," said Jack; "I'll try it by and by."
So he did.
"The Speaker was a boy once, too, and so was the Governor," he said to himself aloud.