"Of course, of course." It was not the policy of Mr. Brown, once the victory was won, to discuss to whom the victory belonged.
Blake's eyes were keen and penetrating.
"And you say that the things I said a little while back will not affect your attitude toward me in the future?"
"Those things? Why, they've already passed out of my other ear! Oh, it's no new experience," he went on with his comforting air of good-fellowship, "for me to run into one of our political friends when he's sick with a bad case of conscience. They all have it now and then, and they all pull out of it. No, don't you worry about the future. You're O. K. with us."
"Thank you."
"And now, since everything is so pleasantly cleared up," continued Mr.
Brown, "let's go back to my first question. I suppose everything looks all right for the trial to-morrow?"
Blake hesitated a moment, then told of Katherine's discovery. "But it's no more than a surmise," he ended.
"Has she guessed any other of the parties implicated?" Mr. Brown asked anxiously.
"I'm certain she has not."
"Is she likely to raise a row to-morrow?"
"I hardly see how she can."
"All the same, we'd better do something to quiet her," returned Mr.
Brown meaningly.
Blake flashed a quick look at the other.
"See here--I'll not have her touched!"
Mr. Brown's scanty eyebrows lifted.
"Hello! You seem very tender about her!"
Blake looked at him sternly a moment. Then he said stiffly: "I once asked Miss West to marry me."
"Eh--you don't say!" exclaimed the other, amazed. "That is certainly a queer situation for you!" He rubbed his naked dome. "And you still feel----"
"What I feel is my own affair!" Blake cut in sharply.
"Of course, of course!" agreed Mr. Brown quickly. "I beg your pardon!"
Blake ignored the apology.
"It might be well for you not to see me openly again like this. With Miss West watching me----"
"She might see us together, and suspect things. I understand. Needn't worry about that. You may not see me again for a year. I'm here--there--everywhere. But before I go, how do things look for the election?"
"We'll carry the city easily."
"Who'll you put up for mayor?"
"Probably Kennedy, the prosecuting attorney."
"Is he safe?"
"He'll do what he's told."
"That's good. Is he strong with the people?"
"Fairly so. But the party will carry him through."
"H'm." Mr. Brown was thoughtful for a space. "This is your end of the game, of course, and I make it a point not to interfere with another man's work. The only time I've butted in here was when I helped you about getting Marcy. But still, I hope you don't mind my making a suggestion."
"Not at all."
"We've got to have the next mayor and council, you know. Simply got to have them. We don't want to run any risk, however small. If you think there's one chance in a thousand of Kennedy losing out, suppose you have yourself nominated."
"Me?" exclaimed Blake.
"It strikes you as a come-down, of course. But you can do it gracefully--in the interest of the city, and all that, you know. You can turn it into a popular hit. Then you can resign as soon as our business is put through."
"There may be something in it," commented Blake.
"It's only a suggestion. Just think it over, and use your own judgment." He stood up. "Well, I guess that's all we need to say to one another. The whole situation here is entirely in your hands. Do as you please, and we ask no questions about how you do it. We're not interested in methods, only in results."
He clapped Blake heartily upon the shoulder. "And it looks as though we all were going to get results! Especially you! Why, you, with this trial successfully over--with the election won--with the goods delivered----"
He suddenly broke off, for the tail of his eye had sighted Blake's open cabinet.
"Will you allow me a liberty?"
"Certainly," replied Blake, in the dark as to his visitor's purpose.
Mr. Brown crossed to the cabinet, and returned with the squat, black bottle and two small glasses. He tilted an inch into each tumbler, gave one to Blake, and raised the other on high. His face was illumined with his fatherly smile.
"To our new Senator!" he said.
CHAPTER X
SUNSET AT THE SYCAMORES
When the door had closed behind the pleasant figure of Mr. Brown, Blake pressed the button upon his desk. His stenographer appeared.
"I have some important matters to consider," he said. "Do not allow me to be disturbed until Doctor and Mrs. Sherman come with the car."