"This interview is over."
Rebuffed once more, Broderick crept to the door, but again he came back,
and whispered uncertainly:--
"So you want to be United States Senator, eh? The best job that we've
got?" He hesitated for an instant before asking:--
"Can I be of any help?"
Murgatroyd laid down his pen and looked up, smiling.
"Now you are talking sense, Broderick. Yes, you and Thorne can help me."
"Thorne! Great Scott! I never thought of him! Why, he's the organisation
nominee, and I'm tied up with him! Say, honest, Murgatroyd, I can't go
back on him--Murgatroyd, you can't make it--for even I can't undo all
that's been done. Thorne has been slated for that job for months."
"You've got to sponge him off the slate, then," returned the prosecutor.
"I'll be everlastingly confounded if I do!" returned Broderick.
Murgatroyd pressed a button; Mixley came in on the jump.
"Mixley," began Murgatroyd.
"Hold on!" said Broderick, "I'll help you----"
Murgatroyd nodded.
"Warmly, energetically, enthusiastically----"
"Oh, all that," interrupted Broderick.
"Mixley," said the chief, "you can hold those warrants--until after the
next Senatorial election."
Broderick gasped; Mixley's nod as he left the room spoke volumes.
"Broderick," said Murgatroyd, looking him in the eye, "you mean
business--you're going to back me straight?"
"Not because I want to, but because I've got to," returned the
politician. "It seems I must...."
He paused and returned Murgatroyd's glance significantly. After a
moment, he said:--
"Well, fork over, then...."
Murgatroyd smiled.
"How much?..."
"Thorne will spend and has spent a lot of money," answered Broderick;
"and you've got to----"
"How much will it take?" asked Murgatroyd.
"How much have you got left?" responded Broderick.