“Barring that accident.”

Chase brushed that suggestion aside. “My victory--in a strong Republican town--will make me an important figure in the district.”

“Meaning--my district.”

“Meaning the Congressional district.”

Amos looked at the other. “You figuring to run against me next year.”

Chase shook his head. “I don’t want to. There’s no sense in our cutting each other’s throats.”

“That’s against the law, anyhow.”

Chase leaned forward more earnestly. “Amos--here’s my proposition. We ought to get together. I’m willing. I’ve got Hardiston. Sentiment in the district is swinging. I can make a good fight against you next year--I think I can win. But I don’t want to fight you. So--Let’s get together. Party politics are out of date. We’re the two biggest men in the county, Amos. You step aside and let me go to Congress--I can beat any one else easily. And I’ll back you for--the Senate, Amos.”

For a moment Amos remained very quietly in his chair; then he coughed, such a loud, harsh cough that Chase jumped. And then he said slowly: “Chase--you startled me.”Chase said condescendingly, grandly: “No reason for that, Amos.”

“But my land, man--the Senate! Me in the Senate!”

“Why not? Worse men than you are there.”

“Chase--you’re the man for the Senate--not me.”

Chase bridled like a girl. “No, no, Amos. You’ve the experience, the wide view--”

Amos seemed to recall something. “That’s so, Chase. And you--you ain’t Mayor yet. Something might happen.”

“It won’t.”

Amos rose. “Chase,” he said, “I’ve got to know you better to-night than in twenty years.”

Chase grasped the Congressman’s hand firmly. This was a habit of his, this firm clasp. “It’s high time, then, Amos.”

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