grasp surprised me, as much as the expression of his eyes--the steady
eyes of complete self-control, composure, intentness.

I had come with a prejudice against him; I was a partisan of Mr. Blame,
whom he had defeated for the Presidency; I believed Mr. Blame to be the
abler man. But there was something in Mr. Cleveland's hand and eyes to
warn me that however slow-moving and even dull he might appear, the
energy of a firm will compelled and controlled him. It stiffened me into
instant attention.

He made some remark to Colonel Lamont to indicate that our conversation
was to occupy about half an hour. He asked me to be seated in a chair at
the right-hand side of his desk. He said almost challengingly: "You're
the young man they want I should talk to about the Utah question."

The tone was not exactly unkind, but it was not inviting. I said, "Yes,
sir."

He looked at me, as a judge might eye the suspect of circumstantial
evidence. "You're the son of one of the Mormon leaders."

I admitted it.

And then he began.

He began with an account of what he had done to compose the differences
in Utah. He explained and justified the appointments he had made there--
appointments that had been recommended by Southern senators and
representatives who, because they were Southerners, were opposed to the
undue extension and arbitrary use of Federal power. He had made Caleb W.