“But he didn’t.  After all, it’s a fine thing to make for the good things in life and win them yourself.”

“That’s true.  You’re a different breed from some of these people who are your neighbors.  We’re all mighty proud of you, here in Herculaneum.  What you want to do is to get into politics.”  Here Bill winked mysteriously.  “You’ve money and influence, and that’s what counts.”

“I’m seriously thinking the thing over,” returned Warrington, not quite understanding the wink.

“Everything’s on the bum in town; it wants a clean bill.  McQuade must go.  The man never keeps a promise.  Told me in the presence of witnesses, last election, that he’d give me a job on the new police board; and yet after election he put in one of those whipper-snappers who know nothing.  Of course, you’ve been in town long enough to know that Donnelly is simply McQuade’s creature.  I never had any luck.”

“Oh, it may change by and by.”  Warrington, at that moment, felt genuinely sorry for the outcast.

Bill twirled his hat.  “You’ve never laughed at me, Richard; you’ve always treated me like a gentleman, which I was once.  I didn’t mail that letter because I wanted to see if you had changed any.  If you had become a snob, why, you could fight your blamed battles yourself; no help from me.  But you’re just the same.  I’ve brought something that’ll be of more use to you than that letter, and don’t you forget it.”

“What?” asked Warrington skeptically.

Suddenly Bill leaned forward, shading his voice with his hand.  “I was in Hanley’s for a glass of beer this noon.  I sat in a dark place.  The table next to me was occupied by Martin, McQuade, and a fellow named Bolles.”

“Bolles?”

“You’ve been away so long you haven’t heard of him.  He handles the dagos during election.  Well, McQuade was asking all sorts of questions about you.  Asked if you gambled, or drank, or ran around after women.”

Warrington no longer leaned back in his chair.  His body assumed an alert angle.

“They all went up to McQuade’s office.  The typewriter is a niece of mine.  McQuade has heard that the senator is going to spring your name at the caucus.  But that’s a small matter.  McQuade is going to do you some way or other.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why, he sees that his goose is cooked if you run.  He’s determined that he won’t let you.”

Warrington laughed; there was a note of battle in his laughter.  “Go on,” he said.

“Nobody knew anything about your habits.  So McQuade has sent Bolles to New York.  He used to be a private detective, He’s gone to New York to look up your past there.  I know Bolles; he’ll stop at nothing.  McQuade, however, was wise enough to warn him not to fake, but to get real facts.”

This time Warrington’s laughter was genuine.

“He’s welcome to all he can find.”