let's see—to-night, I reckon. Going to try to pass it over the governor's veto."
"Will they make it?"
"Oh, I don't know. Looks dubious. The senate's all right, of course; it's all fixed there, but the house ain't certain. A two-thirds vote's hard to get these days. Baldwin's been working day and night—but I don't know; you can't tell yet."
Then the house broke into new confusion. Holman knew the signs well; a roll-call was on. Bemis pricked his ears and hurried back to his seat.
Holman was glad just then to have him go, for almost at the mention of the name of Baldwin he had happened to glance toward the speaker's chair; the speaker had risen, his gavel poised, and in that instant Holman saw the man on the speaker's lounge, lolling back to await the passing of the interruption, and recognized Baldwin, George R. Baldwin, carefully dressed as of old, suave, elegant, dignified, all unchanged save that his hair had grown a bit more gray, though only, it seemed, to lend to his aspect new dignity, new authority, almost refinement. Baldwin, the same as ever! It had not changed him, evidently; he was still correct, irreproachable, re-
