“I’ve always tried to be neighborly, Jethro,” said Mr. Sutton, but his voice sounded a little husky even to himself.

“And I may have done one or two little things for you, Heth,” Jethro continued, “but I can’t remember exactly.  Er—­can you remember, Heth.”

Mr. Sutton was trying with becoming nonchalance to light the stump of his cigar.  He did not succeed this time.  He pulled himself together with a supreme effort.

“I think we’ve both been mutually helpful, Jethro,” he said, “mutually helpful.”

“Well,” said Jethro, reflectively, “I don’t know as I could have put it as well as that—­there’s somethin’ in being an orator.”

There was another silence, a much longer one.  The Honorable Heth threw his butt away, and lighted another cigar.  Suddenly, as if by magic, his aplomb returned, and in a flash of understanding he perceived the situation.  He saw himself once more as the successful congressman, the trusted friend of the railroad interests, and he saw Jethro as a discredited boss.  He did not stop to reflect that Jethro did not act like a discredited boss, as a keener man might have done.  But if the Honorable Heth had been a keener man, he would not have been at that time a congressman.  Mr. Sutton accused himself of having been stupid in not grasping at once that the tables were turned, and that now he was the one to dispense the gifts.

“K-kind of fortunate you stopped to speak to me, Heth.  N-now I come to think of it, I hev a little favor to ask of you.”

“Ah!” exclaimed Mr. Sutton, blowing out the smoke; “of course anything I can do, Jethro—­anything in reason.”

“W-wouldn’t ask a high-minded man to do anything he hadn’t ought to,” said Jethro; “the fact is, I’d like to git Eph Prescott appointed at the Brampton post-office.  You can fix that, Heth—­can’t you—­you can fix that?”

Mr. Sutton stuck his thumb into his vest pocket and cleared his throat.

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am not to oblige you, Jethro, but I’ve arranged to give that post-office to Dave Wheelock.”

“A-arranged it, hev You—­a-arranged it?”

“Why, yes,” said Mr. Sutton, scarcely believing his own ears.  Could it be possible that he was using this patronizingly kind tone to Jethro Bass?

“Well, that’s too bad,” said Jethro; “g-got it all fixed, hev you?”

“Practically,” answered Mr. Sutton, grandly; “indeed, I may go as far as to say that it is as certain as if I had the appointment here in my pocket.  I’m sorry not to oblige you, Jethro; but these are matters which a member of Congress must look after pretty closely.”  He held out his hand, but Jethro did not appear to see it,—­he had his in his pockets.  “I’ve an important engagement,” said the Honorable Heth, consulting a large gold watch.  “Are you going to be in Washington long?”

“G-guess I’ve about got through, Heth—­g-guess I’ve about got through,” said Jethro.