This led to an awkward pause, Mr. Crewe not being a man who found profit in idle discussion.  He glanced at Mr. Braden’s philanthropic and beaming countenance, which would have made the fortune of a bishop.  It was not usual for Mr. Crewe to find it difficult to begin a conversation, or to have a companion as self-sufficient as himself.  This man Braden had all the fun, apparently, in sitting in a chair and looking into space that Stonewall Jackson had, or an ordinary man in watching a performance of “A Trip to Chinatown.”  Let it not be inferred, again, that Mr. Crewe was abashed; but he was puzzled.

“I had an engagement in Ripton this morning,” he said, “to see about some business matters.  And after I received your telephone I thought I’d drop in here.”

“Didn’t telephone,” said Mr. Braden, placidly.

“What!” said Mr. Crewe, “I certainly got a telephone message.”

“N—­never telephone,” said Mr. Braden.

“I certainly got a message from you,” Mr. Crewe protested.

“Didn’t say it was from me—­didn’t say so—­did they—­”

“No,” said Mr. Crewe, “but—­”

“Told Ball you wanted to have me see you, didn’t you?”

Mr. Crewe, when he had unravelled this sentence, did not fancy the way it was put.

“I told Ball I was seeing everybody in Leith,” he answered, “and that I had called on you, and you weren’t at home.  Ball inferred that you had a somewhat singular way of seeing people.”

“You don’t understand,” was Mr. Braden’s somewhat enigmatic reply.

“I understand pretty well,” said Mr. Crewe.  “I’m a candidate for the Republican nomination for representative from Leith, and I want your vote and influence.  You probably know what I have done for the town, and that I’m the biggest taxpayer, and an all-the-year-round resident.”

“S—­some in Noo York—­hain’t you?”

“Well, you can’t expect a man in my position and with my interests to stay at home all the time.  I feel that I have a right to ask the town for this nomination.  I have some bills here which I’ll request you to read over, and you will see that I have ideas which are of real value to the State.  The State needs waking up-progressive measures.  You’re a farmer, ain’t you?”

“Well, I have be’n.”

“I can improve the condition of the farmer one hundred per cent, and if my road system is followed, he can get his goods to market for about a tenth of what it costs him now.  We have infinitely valuable forests in the State which are being wasted by lumbermen, which ought to be preserved.  You read those bills, and what I have written about them.”

“You don’t understand,” said Mr. Braden, drawing a little closer and waving aside the manuscript with his cigar.

“Don’t understand what?”

“Don’t seem to understand,” repeated Mr. Braden, confidingly laying his hand on Mr. Crewe’s knee.  “Candidate for representative, be you?”