"Why," answered the senator, somewhat taken aback, "why, to-night, if you
like. I'm going to the White House in a few minutes and I think I can
arrange it."

"T-to-morrow afternoon--t-to-morrow afternoon?"

The senator cast his eye over the swallow-tail coat and stove-pipe hat
tilted back, and laughed.

"Thunder!" he exclaimed, "you haven't changed a bit. I'm beginning to
look like an old man; but that milk-and-crackers diet seems to keep you
young, Jethro. I'll fix it for to-morrow afternoon."

"W-what time--two?"

"Well, I'll fix it for two to-morrow afternoon. I never could understand
you, Jethro; you don't do things like other men. Do I smell gunpowder?
What's up now--what do you want to see Grant about?"

Jethro cast his eye around the corridor, where a few men were taking
their ease after supper, and looked at the senator mysteriously.

"Any place where we can talk?" he demanded.

"We can go into the writing room and shut the door," answered the
senator, more amused than ever.

When Cynthia came downstairs, Jethro was standing with the gentleman in
the corridor leading to the dining room, and she heard the gentleman say