* * * * *

"What I regret in the business," remarked Fatfloat as he put down his
glass, "is the ill fortune of Mr. Nixon. There is much of good honesty
about that gentleman; he is high-minded and proud; I cannot but
sympathize with him in his present plight."

"And yet," observed Enfield, mildly, "Mr. Nixon should have avoided
that trap of an empty leadership. Mr. Nixon is no stripling; he knew
Tammany and those elements of mendacity and muddy intrigue which are
called its 'control'; he knew Mr. Croker, who in these last days was
faithful to no promise and loyal to no man. Why did he permit himself
to be flattered, cozened and destroyed? Why? He added inexperience to
vanity and betrayed himself. It was the old story--the conference of
that leadership on Mr. Nixon--the old story of the Wolf and Little Red
Riding Hood, with Mr. Croker as Wolf and Mr. Nixon the innocent who
was eaten up. No, no; he might have better guided himself. Mr.
Nixon--were all about the friendliest--was still unfit for the place.
It was like putting a horse in a tree-top; it gave the horse no grace
nor glory and offered a sole assurance of his finally falling out."

* * * * *

"Isn't Mr. Nixon himself an honest man?" asked Van Addle.

"Were it to be merely a question of honesty," replied Enfield, "Mr.
Nixon would make perfect answer. Broadly, he is an honest man. But
that, politically, is all. And there be enterprises, such as Tammany
Hall and the Stock Market, wherein to be merely honest is not a