"If I can serve you, Mr. Harley, I shall be glad to do so," said Jimmy Grayson, somewhat dryly; "but I really do not see how I can."
"I am quite sure that you can," said Harley, with emphasis.
He listened a moment, but he did not hear any step in the hall nor the jingling of any telephone bell. Both Mr. and Mrs. Grayson waited expectantly, curious to see what he had in mind.
"If you were to be nominated for the Presidency, I should like to tell the _Gazette_ what your programme would be--that is, what sort of a campaign you would conduct," said Harley, deliberately.
Mr. Grayson laughed and glanced again at his wife.
"It is a wise rule for a man in public life never to answer hypothetical questions; of that I am sure, Mr. Harley," he said.
Jimmy Grayson bit his lip. It seemed to him that the correspondent would make a jest, and the hour was unfitting.
"I shall answer your question when I am nominated," he said.
"Then you will answer it now," said Harley.
A sudden flush passed over Mr. Grayson's face and left it white. Mrs. Grayson trembled and glanced again at her husband, still in a puzzled state.
"Your meaning is not clear, Mr. Harley," he said.
"It should be. When I left the convention-hall, two minutes ago, they had just made the nomination unanimous. I wished to be the first to tell the news, and I have had my wish."
The eyes of the nominee looked straight into those of Harley, but the correspondent did not flinch. It was obvious that he was telling the truth.
"The notifying committee will be here in a few minutes," he said. "Ah, I hear their step on the stair now."
The tread of men walking quickly and the sound of voices raised in eagerness came to the room. The powerful figure of Jimmy Grayson trembled slightly, then grew rigid.
"I did not dream of it," he said, as if to himself; "nor have I now sought to take it from others."
"Nor have you done so," said Harley, boldly; "because it belonged to no man."
Mrs. Grayson stepped forward, as if in fear that her husband was about to be taken from her, because at that moment the volume of the voices and the trampling increased and paused at her door. Then the crowd poured into the room and hailed the victor.
Harley slipped to one side, and no one in the committee knew that the nominee had been notified already, but the correspondent never ceased to watch Jimmy Grayson. He saw how the nature of the man rose to the great responsibility that had been put upon him, how he nerved himself for his mighty task. He stood among them all, cool, dignified, and ready. Harley was proud that this was one of his countrymen, and when his last despatch was filed that night he wired to his editor in New York: "Please send me on the campaign with Grayson. I think it is going to be a great one." And back came the answer: "Stay with him until it is all over, election night."