"Oh, I understand perfectly, Mr. Crane. All of us who know you do. I was not speaking of the views of your friends, but of your enemies, on the subject. However, if money is the consideration, I think I could guarantee your senatorial term in good style; nothing extravagant, you know, but enough to put your mind at ease. Your notes, with my indorsement, would be accepted at any bank in the State, and the matter could be kept quiet."
It was the old story—making chains out of his necessities. And they were very great. Crane spoke of paying his debts. He had scarcely made any reduction in the principal, and had only succeeded in paying the interest—which, with his living expenses, of which his own were twice as much as Annette's and the children's, and his small life-insurance, had galloped away with his five thousand a year. And if he should lose the nomination—there was not much danger of that now, but everything was possible with a machine and a man like Governor Sanders.
Crane's better nature, however, rebelled against the deceit to be practised on Senator Bicknell.
