“I have the honor of subscribing myself
“Very sincerely yours,
“Ben Bragdon.”
Across the hall Ben Bragdon was also reading a letter, which was almost a duplicate of the one that Carlisle was perusing, except that the conditions were reversed. Carlisle, in his letter of apology, offered to support Bragdon for the nomination, provided the hatchet was buried and the Bragdon forces would support him for temporary and permanent chairman.
At the conclusion of the reading of these respective letters, each wore an exultant look of mastery on his face. For the time being at least all other differences were forgotten. In the hearts of both was the thought: “It’s mighty decent of him; he really is a bigger man than I thought.”
Carlisle was the first man to leave his room and going quickly downstairs passed hurriedly into the hotel bar, which at that early hour was deserted except for the immaculate, white-aproned bartender.
“What will it be this morning, Mr. Carlisle?” was the respectful inquiry of the attendant.
“Nothing just yet,” replied Carlisle, “I am waiting for a friend.”
A moment later Ben Bragdon came in, whereupon both of these skillful politicians vied in meeting each other more than half-way and extending the right hand of good fellowship in kindliest greetings.
“Guess we’re a little early,” stammered Bragdon in a futile attempt to appear at ease and free from embarrassment. They both laughed a little, and Carlisle remarked that fortunately the bartender was at his post even if the delegates were slow about getting started on the day’s work.