“Be seated.”

“I will stand, if you please.  I have only a few words to say.”

“Then your nature must have changed very suddenly,” said the lawyer, dryly.  “Or did you pump your reservoir dry of language when you put my name in nomination to-day?”

Farr bowed without reply.

“I hear that speech commended very highly.  Among opportunists you deserve high rank, Mr. Farr.  You have tipped a state upside down very effectively, and I am upside down along with the rest.”

“I will stand here very patiently, sir, and take my punishment.  As between ourselves, I had no right to do what I did to-day without consulting you.  As regards conditions in the state, I had a right to seize that opportunity and give to the people a man who can be depended on.  I did so.  Go ahead, now, Mr. Converse!”

To the young man’s surprise, the nominee arose and came to him with hand outstretched.  A smile broke through the grimness of the lawyer’s countenance.  “I have accepted a public trust with pride, I am obeying my plain duty with satisfaction, and I shall work to be elected with all my might.  Otherwise I wouldn’t be the son of my father.  My boy, I have had a talk with Citizen Drew to-day.  He told me about your idea of kicking honest men into politics.  I want you to understand that I thank you heartily because you have kicked me in.  I’m going to swim!”

“‘Then God’s in His Heaven and the world’s all right,’” declared Farr.

The lawyer’s quizzical and searching gaze was rather disquieting; the young man had found Converse eyeing him with peculiar interest during their meetings in the recent past.  Now Converse bestowed particularly intent scrutiny on his caller.

“I feel that I have done my work, sir,” Farr hastened to say, anxious to terminate this interview.  “I am going away—­out of the state.  I shall not return.”

Mr. Converse did not break out into protest.  He eyed Farr more closely.  Then he reached a button and turned on the full light of the chandelier.  “You have a good reason for deserting just when you are most needed, I presume, sir?”

“I have.  It is a reason which especially concerns the success of the legislation which we have discussed.  If I stay I shall hamper you.”

“I will ask you to stand where you are for a few minutes, sir,” said the lawyer, commanding rather than requesting.  He went to a cabinet and drew forth a package.  He brought that packet to the table and began to sort photographs.

He selected one, regarded it with careful gaze, and shifted his eyes to the young man’s face.

“Um!” he commented, with judicial tone.  “Now—­suppose you tell me—­just how your continued presence in this state will hamper me”—­he paused; he drawled the next words, emphasizing them—­“Mr. Bristol!”

Farr had begun nervous retreat when the lawyer had begun comparison of the living features with the photograph.  It was plain that he feared rather than understood.