Some people might consider this the work of a
spy; he looked on it as a public duty. He reported that "Old
Granny" had at last shown signs of weakness. Late the previous
evening when, according to his custom, he was smoking his pipe
in company with his kitchen-cabinet of followers, he had again
fallen upon the subject of Ratcliffe, and with a volley of oaths had
sworn that he would show him his place yet, and that he meant to
offer him a seat in the Cabinet that would make him "sicker than a
stuck hog." From this remark and some explanatory hints that
followed, it seemed that the Quarryman had abandoned his scheme
of putting Ratcliffe to immediate political death, and had now
undertaken to invite him into a Cabinet which was to be specially
constructed to thwart and humiliate him.
The President, it appeared, warmly applauded the remark of one
counsellor, that Ratcliffe was safer in the Cabinet than in the
Senate, and that it would be easy to kick him out when the time
came.
Ratcliffe smiled grimly as Mr. Lord, with much clever mimicry,
described the President's peculiarities of language and manner, but
he said nothing and waited for the event. The same evening came a
note from the President's private secretary requesting his
attendance, if possible, to-morrow, Saturday morning, at ten
o'clock. The note was curt and cool. Ratcliffe merely sent back
word that he would come, and felt a little regret that the President
should not know enough etiquette to understand that this verbal
answer was intended as a hint to improve his manners.
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