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Updated: May 24, 2025
"No, nothing as yet." Mr. Gashwiler paused as if a thought had struck him. "I have thought," he said, finally, "that some position such as a secretaryship with me would help you to a better appointment. Now, supposing that I make you my private secretary, giving you some important and confidential business. Eh?"
Never, for weeks at a stretch, had Gashwiler said with a tired smile, "Nothing to-day sorry!" He might have been a grouch and given to unreasonable nagging, but with him there was always a very definite something to-day which he would specify, in short words if the occasion seemed to demand.
The stranger saw all this with his wicked left eye, but continued to beam mildly with his right. Removing the coat and waistcoat of Gashwiler from a chair, he drew it towards the table, pushing aside a portly, loud-ticking watch, the very image of Gashwiler, that lay beside him, and, resting his elbows on the proofs, said: "Well?" "Have you anything new?" asked the parliamentary Gashwiler.
Gashwiler was among these, smoking one of his choice cigars. He was not allowed to smoke in the house. Merton, knowing this prohibition, strictly enforced by Mrs. Gashwiler, threw his employer a glance of honest pity.
"I never saw any great beauty in her," said Wiles shortly, "although they say that she's rather caught that d d Thatcher, in spite of his coldness. At any rate, she is his protegee. But she isn't the sort you're thinking of, Gashwiler. They say she knows, or pretends to know, something about the grant. She may have got hold of some of her uncle's papers.
"I shall place them in my portman-tell," said Gashwiler, suiting the word to the action, "for safe keeping. I need not inform you, who are now, as it were, on the threshold of official life, that perfect and inviolable secrecy in all affairs of State" Mr. G. here motioned toward his portmanteau as if it contained a treaty at least "is most essential and necessary." Dobbs assented.
The door was scarcely closed upon him when another knock diverted Mr. Gashwiler's attention from his proofs. The door opened to a young man with sandy hair and anxious face. He entered the room deprecatingly, as if conscious of the presence of a powerful being, to be supplicated and feared. Mr. Gashwiler did not attempt to disabuse his mind.
Before he reached the door Mr. Gashwiler returned to the social level with a chuckle: "You say this woman, this Garcia's niece, is handsome and smart?" "Yes." "I can set another woman on the track that'll euchre her every time!" Mr. Wiles was too clever to appear to notice the sudden lapse in the Congressman's dignity, and only said, with his right eye: "Can you?"
He was a poor fish, Gashwiler; a country storekeeper without a future. A clod! Merton, after waiting in line, obtained his mail, consisting of three magazines Photo Land, Silver Screenings, and Camera. As he stepped away he saw that Miss Tessie Kearns stood three places back in the line. He waited at the door for her. Miss Kearns was the one soul in Simsbury who understood him.
The simple device was, in fact, similar to that used, at Gashwiler's strict orders, on the delivery wagon back in Simsbury, for Gashwiler had believed that Dexter would run away if untethered. But of course it was absurd, Merton saw, to anchor a motor car in such a manner, and he was somewhat taken aback when Baird directed this action. "It's all right," Baird assured him.
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