The times dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1903-1914, 1907-03-17


house present, had heard.
The quartette were seated in thu
Conover library, whittier they had
gathered after dinner for one Of those
brief intervals of family intercourse
which Caleb secretly loved, his wifa
as secretly dreaded and Gerald openly
loathed The Ralroader, at heart, was
an intensely home-loving man. He
had never known a home. Least Of all
since moving into the Mausoleum. II,
had always, In Increasingly laundering
fashion, sought to make one.
The wife he bullied. the son he hec-
tored. the daughter with whom he had
forever quarreled the secretary who
met his friendliness with unbroken re.
serve; all these he had tried to en-.
roll az assistants in his various home.
making plans. The results had not
been SO successful as to warrant .e.
scription.
Finally, Conover had centred his for.
mer Efforts on one daily plan. He had
read In the advice column of the Star
about the joys of pleasant evening
hour in the bosom of ones family and
the directions therefor The idea APP
pealed to him. He ordained accord
1ngly that after the unfashionaby
early evening meal the household
should congregate in the library, and
there for at least one hour indulge
In care-free confidential chat This,
Caleb mentally argued, was capital
OpenlnE-Wedge In the incubation of the
true home spirit which had been his
lifelong dream.
The household obeyed the order, even
as all Conover's orders-at home and
abroad-were obeyed. The session usu-
ally began in laborious efforts at small
talk. Then an unfortunate remark
Of some sort from Mrs. Conover, or an
impertinence or sheer from Gerald, and
the storm would break. The pheasant
evening hour" oftener than not ended
in sea OF weakly miserable tears
from Mrs. Conover, crowd of soto
voce profane exit on Gerald's part and
in Caleb's stamping off % his study or
else around to the Kerrigans' for q
bllssful, shirt-sleeved, old-time politi-
cal argument in front of the saloons
backroom stove.
On this present evening Caleb had
just received Shevlin's report OF the
Standish tour. He was full Of tho
theme and strove to interest his three
hearers in 1t. In Anice he found, as
ever. an eager listener. But Gerald
yawned IN very apparent boredom,
while Mrs. Conover shed few delight
fully easy, but irritating tears at the
account of the opera house fight. Caleb
had silently resented these moist signs
of interest, and his glare had called
forth an unusual protest from his weak
little spouse.
TIN sure" she went on, nervously
taking advantage OF the rare TT OF
courage that possessed her, I'm quite
sure somebody else must have put this
Governorship idea into poor Gives
head. He'd never have thought OF
such rash thing by himself. ! don't
believe thai at heart he really wants
to be Governor at all. He"
IF he don't" remarked Conover, II
guess that makes 1t unanimous. | wish
that idiot shevlin hadn't given him tho
chance to play to the gallery, though
in q fist fight. TIN mean votes for him.
Folks have sort Of liking for man
who can scrap. BY the way, Jerry, II
you go around to Headquarters to-
night, tell Bourke I want him to run
to Matawan for me Tomorrow on that
floater business. He"
IT don't believe they can spare Bourke
at Headquarters Just now" began
Gerald, with faint show OF Interest,
"If he was the sort Of man they could
spare, he wouldn't be the sort of man
Id want to send on ticklish job like
this Has Brayle showed up at any
of our rallies yet?'
mo. And don't believe he Will
Hes done With politics, SheYlin tells
me. Got religion, Billy says, and
If Pete Brayle's got religion YOU
can gamble he's got It in his wife's
name, like every other asset Of his
Done with politics. Ell? Well, politics
amt done with him. III see Shevlir
about 1t in the morning.
II thought Mr.. Brayle was an athe'
ist," put In Lefty. tits an awful thine
to be- How do you suppose he evel
became one?"
"I3y thinking too hard with mlnt
that was too small; same as most atne
lists do" suggested Caleb. "Say, Jerry,
he added, it won't do you no harm t.
know I'm rather tickled at the wa!
you've took hold at Headquarters tn
past week or so, You y. ont lose by It..
"She wrote mo to-" answered Gerald
flushing. You owe 1t to her. Not t
me-"
"She?"
Eyes. My"
ugh! I m'yht "a known 1t! Wei
so long as YOU do your work ] don
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