"Sure," Moffatt acquiesced; "but you know what went on when you were in
it."

"Well?" said Mr. Spragg, shifting one hand to the Masonic emblem on his
watch-chain.

"Well, Representative James J. Rolliver, who was in it with you, ain't
out of it yet. He's the man the Driscolls are up against. What d'you
know about him?"

Mr. Spragg twirled the emblem thoughtfully. "Driscoll tell you to come
here?"

Moffatt laughed. "No, SIR--not by a good many miles."

Mr. Spragg removed his feet from the scrap basket and straightened
himself in his chair.

"Well--I didn't either; good morning, Mr. Moffatt."

The young man stared a moment, a humorous glint in his small black eyes;
but he made no motion to leave his seat. "Undine's to be married next
week, isn't she?" he asked in a conversational tone.

Mr. Spragg's face blackened and he swung about in his revolving chair.

"You go to--"

Moffatt raised a deprecating hand. "Oh, you needn't warn me off. I
don't want to be invited to the wedding. And I don't want to forbid the