"
"I haven't got anything to say to you, Mr. O'Brien," the mill man
announced with heightened color.
"Maybe I've got something to say to youse, Mr. Killen."
Jeff passed out smiling. "Well, I'll not interrupt you. See you
to-morrow, Sam."
Big Tim sat down heavily in a chair and pulled from his vest
pocket a fat black cigar.
"Smoke, Killen?"
"No, thanks." The legislator spoke with stiff dignity.
Big Tim looked at the other man and his paunch shook with the
merriment that appeared to convulse him.
"What's the matter?" snapped the mill man.
"I'm laughin' at the things I see, Killen. Man, but you're an easy
mar-rk."
"How?"
"Can't you see they're stringin' youse for a sucker?"
"No, I can't see it. I've made up my mind. I'm going to stand by
Hardy."
"Fine! Now I'll tell youse one thing. We're goin' to elect Frome
to-morrow." O'Brien rose as one who has no time for unprofitable
talk. "Your friends have sold youse out. I'm going to call on one
of thim right now."
"I don't believe it."
"Of course you don't." Tim's projecting balcony shook with the
humor of it. "But you'll be convinced when they take your mill
from youse, me boy.
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