I worked out my idea in the still watches: couldn't sleep for thinking
of it. It just means this: if my plans carry through Hare gets the
biggest hearing to-night that this old town can give. And I think
they'll carry all right. You wouldn't be interested in the details. Now
this other thing--"
"Oh, but I would, though! Give me at least a peep behind the scenes
before you dash on. What about these plans of yours?"
Peter laid down the newspaper with which he had been busily fanning
himself. A sudden light came into his eyes.
"I'll tell you just how it all happened," he said in an eager voice.
"Only I'll have to hurry, as I'm due back in town right away--that is,
of course, unless you should need me for anything. Well, I left Hare
last night after only a couple of hours' talk, listening to the same old
story of boss-rule, and giving him, if I do say it, some cracking good
practical pointers. By the way, we were interrupted at that. Hadn't got
started before Hare remembered that he'd promised to bring some girl
home from somewhere, and dragged me off a mile down the road, only to
find out afterwards that she'd gone home with somebody else. Made me
tired. I left him about ten o'clock and started down Main Street for the
river, meaning to come straight back here. But as I was footing it
along, thinking over my talk with Hare and attending to my own business,
who should brace me but that pale-faced rascal we saw playing dead in
the rowboat. This time the _poseur_ was lying flat on some packing-cases
in front of a store, and who do you suppose he turned out to be?"
"The brains of the machine," said Varney.
He told briefly of his own meeting with Coligny Smith at the same spot
two hours earlier, and of the editor's stagey warnings.
"Exactly the way he did me!" cried Peter. "Saved the announcement of
who he was for the grand _finale_ in Act V. I got mad as a wet hen, told
him what I thought of him in simple language, and then when the grafter
twitted me to go and do something about it, I broke loose and swore that
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