“Now look here, Mr. Jones, this is sheer nonsense.  We get wind at Wakefield and water at Turner’s Tank; now, what excuse is there for putting in a siding half-way between these places?”

Again Mr. Jones, rubbing the point of his chin with the ball of his thumb, gave the President a pitying glance.

“Say!” said Jones, resting the points of his long fingers on the table, “I’m goin’ to build a town.  You’re goin’ to build a side track.  I’ve already set aside ten acres of land for you, for depot and yards.  This land will cost you fifty dollars per, now.  If I have to come back about this side track, it’ll cost you a hundred.  Now, Mr. President, I wish you good-mornin’.”

At the door Jones paused and looked back.  “Any time this week will do; good-mornin’.”

The President smiled and turned to his desk.  Presently he smiled again; then he forgot all about Mr. Jones and the new town, and went on with his work.

Mr. Jones went down and out and over to the House to watch the men make laws.

* * * * *

In nearly every community, about every capital, State or National, you will find men who are capable of being influenced.  This is especially true of new communities through which a railway is being built.  It has always been so, and will be, so long as time expires.  I mean the time of an annual pass.  It is not surprising, then, that in Kansas at that time, the Grasshopper period,—­before prohibition, Mrs. Nation, and religious dailies,—­the company had its friends, and that Mr. Jones, an honest farmer with money to spend, had his.

Two or three days after the interview with Mr. Jones, the President’s “friend” came over to the railroad building.  He came in quietly and seated himself near the President, as a doctor enters a sick-room or a lawyer a prison cell.  “I know you don’t want me,” he seemed to say, “but you need me.”

When his victim had put down his pen, the politician asked, “Have you seen Buffalo Jones?”

The President said he had seen the gentleman.

“I think it would be a good scheme to give him what he wants,” said the Honorable member of the State legislature.

But the President could not agree with his friend; and at the end of half an hour, the Honorable member went away not altogether satisfied.  He did not relish the idea of the President trying to run the road without his assistance.  One of the chief excuses for his presence on earth and in the State legislature was “to take care of the road.”  Now, he had gotten up early in order to see the President without being seen, and the President had waved him aside.  “Well,” he said, “I’ll let Jones have the field to-day.”

* * * * *

Two days later, when the President opened his desk, he found a brief note from his confidential assistant,—­not the Honorable one, but an ordinary man who worked for the company for a stated salary.  The note read:—­