Young Dodd’s face was flushed and working with excitement.  He hurried his uncle into a small retiring-room and locked the door.

“I’ve got your man, uncle,” he declared.

“What man?” The colonel was grouchy and indifferent.

“Your man Farr.”

“I don’t claim him.”

“But you said you wanted him.  You said you wanted to hang him like a dead crow in the political bean-patch.”

“Merely momentary insanity on my part, Richard.  There seems to have been a little run of it in this state, and when Judge Warren caught it and gave it to me I talked like a fool, I suppose.  But you must remember that a polecat can give the most level-headed man an almighty start—­and then the level-headed man walks out around the polecat and goes on his way very calmly.”

“But don’t you consider that Farr is a dangerous man?”

The colonel held up his pudgy hand and snapped a finger into his palm.  “He amounts to that in front of the muzzle of a ten-inch gun.”

“But I went ahead after what you said.  I have put out time and money.  I hired a detective.  I figured I was doing a good job for the machine.”  Young Dodd’s voice trembled and disappointment was etched into his anxious features.

“Well, what have you found out?”

“I can’t tell you.  It’s another man’s secret, and he’s got to have cash or a guaranty before he’ll come across with it.”

“What’s the price?”

Richard Dodd exhibited confusion and hesitation.  “I made some promises to him, uncle, because I know what has been paid in the past for things which didn’t seem to be as important as this—­judging from the way you and the judge talked.  So I—­well, I—­”

“Price, price, I say!  I’m used to hearing money talked,” harked the colonel.  “I’ve got to get back into that convention.  Out with it!” He made two steps toward the door.

“Five thousand!” blurted the young man.

Colonel Dodd whirled and whipped off his eye-glasses so as to give his nephew the full effect of his contemptuous fury.

“Why, you young lunatic, I wouldn’t pay that price if they were going to elect Farr the governor of this state, and make him a present of the Consolidated, and you could bring proof that he is the reincarnation of Judas Iscariot.”

A roar of voices and a thunder of thudding feet announced that the Senator had finished.

Colonel Dodd hurried away.

The nephew found Detective Mullaney in the alley behind the auditorium, and the young man’s air of discomfiture and the sagging shake of his head told the story of his errand without words.

“If they’re getting too mean in their old age to hand me a fair price for a good job then let ’em get licked,” declared the detective.  “You stuck to our original figure of five hundred dollars, didn’t you?”

The young man looked over the detective’s head and lied.  “Five hundred—­that’s what I told him.”