They alighted from their carriage at a side entrance a few minutes before the hour and went into the ante-room. Tustin had been sitting there alone with his hat on, studying a dirty little memorandum book, which he now replaced in his pocket. He rose and took off his bat.
"My name's Tustin, Colonel Halket," he said, "and I'm to have the privilege of introducing you to-night."
Colonel Halket laid his silk hat on the table and advancing toward Tustin with a smile held out his hand.
"Glad to meet you, Mr. Tustin,—glad to have your help in getting myself before this audience. Mr. Tustin, my grandson, Mr. Halket."
Floyd nodded. "We've met before," he said; and Tustin shot him a remembering, unfriendly glance.
"We were n't looking for any one extra," Tustin said, with his eyes still on Floyd. "You did n't mention about bringing any one, Colonel, so we've got chairs just for the committee and yourself."
"I suppose a chair could be taken out from this room," Floyd remarked.
"Yes," Tustin admitted reluctantly. "There's hardly space on the platform for another chair,—that is," he hastened to add, "as it's arranged."
"Then I'll go down and sit below the platform or stand against the wall; I don't want to upset the arrangements," Floyd said,—"unless you prefer to have me sit with you, Grandfather."
It was an intimation to Tustin that he and his committee might very easily and conveniently be ignored. But Colonel Halket said,—
"No, no; I'm in the hands of my friends here; I don't need any family support. I'd rather have you down in the audience."
So Floyd followed a narrow passageway and came into one of the side aisles just below the platform. To get a seat was impossible; he squeezed in against the wall between two workingmen, who recognized him and made room.
