But there was something in all this which piqued Converse's curiosity.
“Wait one moment. This is getting to be interesting.”
A rather hazy conviction began to assure Farr that possibly chance had dealt a better stroke for him than well-considered planning. It was surely something to know that the honorable gentleman was interested.
“If you had had time to think out a method of approaching me--Let me see, your name is--”
“Mr. Farr, supposing I had been amenable to your suggestions, what is it you wanted of me?”
“I wanted you to attend a public meeting,” blurted the young man. “They are men who need help--they need--”
“That's sufficient,” snapped Converse. “I am not in politics. I do not address public meetings. Mr. Farr, you would have wasted your time planning. Absolutely!”
“Useless--useless, sir.” He tapped his cane, and his tones showed irritation. He whirled on his heels. “It is decidedly evident that you are a stranger in these parts, sir. On that account I forgive your presumption.”
At that moment a jigger-wagon rumbled to a halt near them. The corner light had revealed them to the driver.
“Mr. Farr,” called the man, “it hasn't taken long for the news of what you did at the meeting to-night to travel around among the boys. And we ain't going to let you get ahead of us, sir.”
“The more, the merrier, in a good cause,” said Farr; but he was staring regretfully at the back of Mr. Converse, who had begun his retreat.
“I want to tell you I'm on the executive committee of the State Teamsters Union, Mr. Farr. I've been talking the matter up and I can promise you that the union as a body will vote to lend horses and men to carry your spring-water free gratis. And I hope that gent who's starting up-town where the dudes are will tell 'em that there are honest men enough left to protect the poor folks from that poison water him and his rich friends are pumping out of the river to us.”
The Honorable Archer Converse halted his departure very suddenly.
“You are not referring to me, are you, my man?”
“I am if you're tied up with that Consolidated Water Company bunch,” stated the unterrified member of the proletariat.
Mr. Converse retraced his steps. He shook his cane at the driver.
“I want to inform you very distinctly, sir, that I am _not_ interested in the Consolidated.”