"Er—Senator?"
The senator (for such he was, although he did not represent Jethro's state) turned and stared, and then held out his hand with unmistakable warmth.
"Jethro Bass," he exclaimed, "upon my word! What are you doing in
Washington?"
Jethro took the hand, but he did not answer the question.
"Er—Senator—when can I see the President?"
"Why," answered the senator, somewhat taken aback, "why, to-night, if you like. I'm going to the White House in a few minutes and I think I can arrange it."
"T-to-morrow afternoon—t-to-morrow afternoon?"
The senator cast his eye over the swallow-tail coat and stove-pipe hat tilted back, and laughed.
"Thunder!" he exclaimed, "you haven't changed a bit. I'm beginning to look like an old man; but that milk-and-crackers diet seems to keep you young, Jethro. I'll fix it for to-morrow afternoon."
"W-what time—two?"