Mr. Crewe looked pained.
“I prefer to believe the best of people until I know the worst,” he said. “I did not think Mr. Pardriff capable of ingratitude.”
What Mr. Crewe meant by this remark is enigmatical.
“He ain't,” replied Mr. Tooting, “he's grateful for that red ticket he carries around with him when he travels, and he's grateful to the Honourable Adam B. Hunt for favours to come. Peter Pardriff's a grateful cuss, all-right, all right.”
Mr. Crewe tapped his fingers on the desk thoughtfully.
“The need of a reform campaign is more apparent than ever,” he remarked.
Mr. Tooting put his tongue in his cheek; and, seeing a dreamy expression on his friend's face, accidentally helped himself to a cigar out of the wrong box.
“It's up to a man with a sense of duty and money to make it,” Mr. Tooting agreed, taking a long pull at the Havana.
“As for the money,” replied Mr. Crewe, “the good citizens of the State should be willing to contribute largely. I have had a list of men of means prepared, who will receive notices at the proper time.”
Mr. Hamilton Tooting spread out his feet, and appeared to be studying them carefully.