Mr. Flint drummed on the table.

“The men who have held office in this State,” he said, “have always been willing to listen to any suggestion I may have thought proper to make to them.  This is undoubtedly because I am at the head of the property which pays the largest taxes.  Needless to say I am chary of making suggestions.  But I am surprised that you should have jumped at a conclusion which is the result of a popular and unfortunately prevalent opinion that the Northeastern Railroads meddled in any way with the government or politics of this State.  I am glad of this opportunity of assuring you that we do not,” he continued, leaning forward and holding up his hand to ward off interruption, “and I know that Senator Whitredge will bear me out in this statement, too.”

The senator nodded gravely.  Mr. Crewe, who was anything but a fool, and just as assertive as Mr. Flint, cut in.

“Look here, Mr. Flint,” he said, “I know what a lobby is.  I haven’t been a director in railroads myself for nothing.  I have no objection to a lobby.  You employ counsel before the Legislature, don’t you—­”

“We do,” said Mr. Flint, interrupting, “the best and most honourable counsel we can find in the State.  When necessary, they appear before the legislative committees.  As a property holder in the State, and an admirer of its beauties, and as its well-wisher, it will give me great pleasure to look over your bills, and use whatever personal influence I may have as a citizen to forward them, should they meet my approval.  And I am especially glad to do this as a neighbour, Mr. Crewe.  As a neighbour,” he repeated, significantly.

The president of the Northeastern Railroads rose as he spoke these words, and held out his hand to Mr. Crewe.  It was perhaps a coincidence that the senator rose also.

“All right,” said Mr. Crewe, “I’ll call around again in about two weeks.  Come and see me sometime, Senator.”  “Thank you,” said the senator, “I shall be happy.  And if you are ever in your automobile near the town of Ramsey, stop at my little farm, Mr. Crewe.  I trust to be able soon to congratulate you on a step which I am sure will be but the beginning of a long and brilliant political career.”

“Thanks,” said Mr. Crewe; “by the bye, if you could see your way to drop a hint to that feller Braden, I should be much obliged.”

The senator shook his head and laughed.

“Job is an independent cuss,” he said, “I’m afraid he’d regard that as an unwarranted trespass on his preserves.”

Mr. Crewe was ushered out by the stooping secretary, Mr. Freeman; who, instead of seizing Mr. Crewe’s hand as he had Austen Vane’s, said not a word.  But Mr. Crewe would have been interested if he could have heard Mr. Flint’s first remark to the senator after the door was closed on his back.  It did not relate to Mr. Crewe, but to the subject under discussion which he had interrupted; namely, the Republican candidates for the twenty senatorial districts of the State.