“I told Ball I was seeing everybody in Leith,” he answered, “and that I had called on you, and you weren't at home. Ball inferred that you had a somewhat singular way of seeing people.”
“You don't understand,” was Mr. Braden's somewhat enigmatic reply.
“I understand pretty well,” said Mr. Crewe. “I'm a candidate for the Republican nomination for representative from Leith, and I want your vote and influence. You probably know what I have done for the town, and that I'm the biggest taxpayer, and an all-the-year-round resident.”
“S—some in Noo York—hain't you?”
“Well, you can't expect a man in my position and with my interests to stay at home all the time. I feel that I have a right to ask the town for this nomination. I have some bills here which I'll request you to read over, and you will see that I have ideas which are of real value to the State. The State needs waking up-progressive measures. You're a farmer, ain't you?”
“Well, I have be'n.”
“I can improve the condition of the farmer one hundred per cent, and if my road system is followed, he can get his goods to market for about a tenth of what it costs him now. We have infinitely valuable forests in the State which are being wasted by lumbermen, which ought to be preserved. You read those bills, and what I have written about them.”
“You don't understand,” said Mr. Braden, drawing a little closer and waving aside the manuscript with his cigar.
“Don't understand what?”
“Don't seem to understand,” repeated Mr. Braden, confidingly laying his hand on Mr. Crewe's knee. “Candidate for representative, be you?”