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Updated: May 18, 2025
"I am obliged to you," replied Sandford, sadly, "but I don't think I can accept the nomination." "Well, that is rather strong," said Plotman. "You'd best keep your modesty for the papers; it's thrown away on me." "I really can't bother with politics." "Why in the Devil, then, did you lay your corns to get the place, and make me all this trouble for nothing?"
Then Bullion and Stearine will drop in, I think, both solid men, useful acquaintances. If Plotman has only done what he promised, the thing will come round right. I shall not seek office, oh, no! I could not compromise my position. But if the people thrust it upon me, I cannot refuse. Citizenship has its duties as well as its privileges, and every man must take his share of public responsibility.
How gladly would he barter all his parchment testimonials for one good "promise to pay"! He groaned almost audibly, and wondered how he could pass the time till the close of bank-hours. The suspense was a torture as keen as the calamity itself. A visitor entered; it was Plotman. He came with a cheerful, even exulting, look. "Good news, Sandford!" "News!" exclaimed Sandford, impetuously.
"What news? How much?" In his absent state he forgot that Plotman was not aware of his thoughts, and associated good news only with an accommodation to serve his present need. But his fluttering expectations were dashed to the ground with the reply. "'How much, did you say? A clean majority over all. Your name stands at the head of the ticket."
"I am really sorry, Plotman; but, to tell you just how it is, I am so much involved in this fearful monetary pressure that I have no time nor heart for anything else." "Confounded spooney!" muttered Plotman, between his teeth. "If I'd known he was so weak in the knees. I'd have gone in for Spreadeagle, who offered a handsome figure." "Come in to-morrow, Plotman, and we'll talk about it.
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