“You don’t smoke, do you?” asked the Honourable Adam.

“No,” said the Honourable Hilary.

A silence, except for the music of the brook over the broken dam.

“Pretty place,” said the Honourable Adam; “I kissed my wife here once —­before I was married.”

This remark, although of interest, the Honourable Hilary evidently thought did not require an answer: 

“Adam,” said Mr. Vane, presently, “how much money have you spent so far?”

“Well,” said Mr. Hunt, “it has been sort of costly, but Brush and the boys tell me the times are uncommon, and I guess they are.  If that crazy cuss Crewe hadn’t broken loose, it would have been different.  Not that I’m uneasy about him, but all this talk of his and newspaper advertising had to be counteracted some.  Why, he has a couple of columns a week right here in the Edmundton Courier.  The papers are bleedin’ him to death, certain.”

“How much have you spent?” asked the Honourable Hilary.

The Honourable Adam screwed up his face and pulled his goatee thoughtfully.

“What are you trying to get at, Hilary,” he inquired, sending for me to meet you out here in the woods in this curious way?  If you wanted to see me, why didn’t you get me to go down to Ripton, or come up and sit on my porch?  You’ve been there before.”

“Times,” said the Honourable Hilary, repeating, perhaps unconsciously, Mr. Hunt’s words, “are uncommon.  This man Crewe’s making more headway than you think.  The people don’t know him, and he’s struck a popular note.  It’s the fashion to be down on railroads these days.”

“I’ve taken that into account,” replied Mr. Hunt.

“It’s unlucky, and it comes high.  I don’t think he’s got a show for the nomination, but my dander’s up, and I’ll beat him if I have to mortgage my house.”

The Honourable Hilary grunted, and ruminated.

“How much did you say you’d spent, Adam?”

“If you think I’m not free enough, I’ll loosen up a little more,” said the Honourable Adam.

“How free have you been?” said the Honourable Hilary.

For some reason the question, put in this form, was productive of results.

“I can’t say to a dollar, but I’ve got all the amounts down in a book.  I guess somewhere in the neighbourhood of nine thousand would cover it.”

Mr. Vane grunted again.

“Would you take a cheque, Adam?” he inquired.

“What for?” cried the Honourable Adam.

“For the amount you’ve spent,” said the Honourable Hilary, sententiously.

The Honourable Adam began to breathe with apparent difficulty, and his face grew purple.  But Mr. Vane did not appear to notice these alarming symptoms.  Then the candidate turned about, as on a pivot, seized Mr. Vane by the knee, and looked into his face.