"Did—did that case against the railroad make him so popular?" asked Victoria, glancing at Austen's broad back—for he had made his escape with the cake.
"I guess it helped considerable," Mr. Jenney admitted.
"Why?" asked Victoria.
"Well, it was a fearless thing to do—plumb against his own interests with old Hilary Vane. Austen's a bright lawyer, and I have heard it said he was in line for his father's place as counsel."
"Do—do people dislike the railroad?"
Mr. Jenney rubbed his beard thoughtfully. He began to wonder who this young woman was, and a racial caution seized him.
"Well," he said, "folks has an idea the railrud runs this State to suit themselves. I guess they hain't far wrong. I've be'n to the Legislature and seen some signs of it. Why, Hilary Vane himself has charge of the most considerable part of the politics. Who be you?" Mr. Jenney demanded suddenly.
"I'm Victoria Flint," said Victoria.
"Godfrey!" exclaimed Mr. Jenney, "you don't say so! I might have known it—seen you on the rud more than once. But I don't know all you rich folks apart. Wouldn't have spoke so frank if I'd knowed who you was."
"I'm glad you did, Mr. Jenney," she answered. "I wanted to know what people think."