There were some faded roses on the desk, and as Joe’s haggard eyes fell upon them the answer came.  “What makes you think Judge Pike isn’t trustworthy?” he had asked Ariel, and her reply had been:  “Nothing very definite, unless it was his look when I told him that I meant to ask you to take charge of things for me.”

He got slowly and amazedly to his feet.  “You’ve got it!” he said.

“Ye see?” cried Mike Sheehan, slapping his thigh with a big hand.  “On my soul I have the penetration!  Ye don’t need to tell me one thing except this:  I told ye I’d lead ye somewhere; haven’t I kept me word?”

“Yes,” said Joe.

“But I have the penetration!” exclaimed Mr. Sheehan.  “Should I miss my guess if I said that ye think Pike may be scared ye’ll stumble on his track in some queer performances?  Should I miss it?”

“No,” said Joe.  “You wouldn’t miss it.”

“Just one thing more.”  The red-bearded man rose, mopping the inner band of his straw hat.  “In the matter of yer runnin’ fer Mayor, now—­”

Joe, who had begun to pace up and down the room, made an impatient gesture.  “Pshaw!” he interrupted; but his friend stopped him with a hand laid on his arm.

“Don’t be treatin’ it as clean out of all possibility, Joe Louden.  If ye do, it shows ye haven’t sense to know that nobody can say what way the wind’s blowin’ week after next.  All the boys want ye; Louie Farbach wants ye, and Louie has a big say.  Who is it that doesn’t want ye?”

“Canaan,” said Joe.

“Hold up!  It’s Pike’s Canaan ye mean.  If ye git the nomination, ye’d be elected, wouldn’t ye?”

“I couldn’t be nominated.”

“I ain’t claimin’ ye’d git Martin Pike’s vote,” returned Mr. Sheehan, sharply, “though I don’t say it’s impossible.  Ye’ve got to beat him, that’s all.  Ye’ve got to do to him what he’s done to you, and what he’s tryin’ to do now worse than ever before.  Well—­there may be ways to do it; and if he tempts me enough, I may fergit my troth and honor as a noble gentleman and help ye with a word ye’d never guess yerself.”

“You’ve hinted at such mysteries before, Mike,” Joe smiled.  “I’d be glad to know what you mean, if there’s anything in them.”

“It may come to that,” said the other, with some embarrassment.  “It may come to that some day, if the old wolf presses me too hard in the matter o’ tryin’ to git the little man across the street hanged by the neck and yerself mobbed fer helpin’ him!  But to-day I’ll say no more.”

“Very well, Mike.”  Joe turned wearily to his desk.  “I don’t want you to break any promises.”

Mr. Sheehan had gone to the door, but he paused on the threshold, and wiped his forehead again.

“And I don’t want to break any,” he said, “but if ever the time should come when I couldn’t help it”—­he lowered his voice to a hoarse but piercing whisper—­“that will be the devourin’ angel’s day fer Martin Pike!”