“Ahem,” said Mr. Gray, “I've been a good deal occupied since election day, Mr. Crewe.”
“Read 'em,” said Mr. Crewe, “and I'll call in on you at the state-house day after to-morrow at five o'clock promptly. We'll discuss 'em, Governor, and if, by the light of your legislative experience, you have any suggestions to make, I shall be glad to hear 'em. Before putting the bills in their final shape I've taken the trouble to go over them with my friend, Mr. Flint—our mutual friend, let us say.”
“I've had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Flint,” said Mr. Gray. “I—ahem—can't say that I know him intimately.”
Mr. Crewe looked at Mr. Gray in a manner which plainly indicated that he was not an infant.
“My relations with Mr. Flint and the Northeastern have been very pleasant,” said Mr. Crewe. “I may say that I am somewhat of a practical railroad and business man myself.”
“We need such men,” said Mr. Gray. “Why, how do you do, Cary? How are the boys up in Wheeler?”
“Well, good-by, Governor. See you day after to-morrow at five precisely,” said Mr. Crewe.
The next official call of Mr. Crewe was on the Speaker-to-be, Mr. Doby of Hale (for such matters are cut and dried), but any amount of pounding on Mr. Doby's door (number seventy-five) brought no response. Other rural members besides Mr. Crewe came and pounded on that door, and went away again; but Mr. Job Braden suddenly appeared from another part of the corridor, smiling benignly, and apparently not resenting the refusal of his previous offers of help.
“W—want the Speaker?” he inquired.
Mr. Crewe acknowledged that he did.