"Wouldn't go?"
"He never pays visits,—folks go to him."
"He'd come to see me, wouldn't he?"
"I—I'm afraid riot, Mr. Crewe. Job holds his comb rather high."
"Do you mean to say this two-for-a-cent town has a boss?"
"Silas Grantley was born here," said Mr. Ball—for even the worm will turn. "This town's got a noble history."
"I don't care anything about Silas Grantley. What I want to know is, how this rascal manages to make anything out of the political pickings of a town like Leith."
"Well, Job ain't exactly a rascal, Mr. Crewe. He's got a good many of them hill farmers in a position of—of gratitude. Enough to control the Republican caucus."
"Do you mean he buys their votes?" demanded Mr. Crewe.
"It's like this," explained Mr. Ball, "if one of 'em falls behind in his grocery bill, for example, he can always get money from Job. Job takes a mortgage, but he don't often close down on 'm. And Job has been collectin' credentials in Avalon County for upward of forty years."