Читать книгу The 13th District. A Story of a Candidate онлайн

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When the meeting was over, Garwood went to the hotel to wait for Rankin, who had a mysterious, but always purposeful way of disappearing at times of such political excitement as had been rocking Lincoln all that day. Garwood had long since learned, when Rankin thus went under the political waters, to await calmly his reappearance at the surface, and so he wrote Rankin’s name and his own name on the blotted register of the hotel, and asked for a room. He had scarcely laid down the corroded pen the landlord found in a drawer, when a voice beside him said:

“Did you see it yet, Jerry?”

Garwood turned to look in the grinning face of Julius Vogt, who had come over with the Grand Prairie “excursion” that morning.

“See what?” asked Garwood.

“Why,” said Vogt, drawing something from his pocket, “Pusey’s article about you—there,” and he opened the copy of the News and gave it to Garwood.

“Oh!” said Garwood, “that!—I saw part of it.” And he smiled on Vogt, whom he felt like striking.

“Well,” said Vogt, still grinning, though his grin was losing something, “I jus’ thought, maybe,—”