The two retired to an alcove, had a
drink and soon were deep in conversation. The stranger seemed to unfold
at this touch of friendliness. They heard him laugh. Another drink was
ordered. After half an hour Garrison returned. He seemed excited. "Hold
him there till I return," he urged. "I'm going to a newspaper office to
look at some files."
Fifteen minutes later he was back. "Come," he said, "I've got a cab ...
want you to meet a friend of mine." He took the still-dazed stranger's
arm. They went out, entered a carriage and were driven off. As they
passed the City Hall the stranger said, as though astonished. "Why--it's
finished, isn't it?"
"Yes, at last," Garrison smiled. "Even Buckley couldn't hold it back
forever."
"Buckley ... he's the one who promised me a job, Is Pond the Mayor now?"
"No," returned the other. "Phelan." As he spoke the carriage stopped
before a rather ornate dwelling, somewhat out of place amid surrounding
offices and shops. The stranger started violently as they approached it.
Again the gutteral sound came from his lips.
The door opened and a woman appeared; a woman tall, sad-faced and
eager-eyed. Beside her was a lad as tall as she.
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