"
Mr. Bundercombe smiled sweetly.
"Is that so!" he observed. "Well, well! He is a very intelligent man. I
trust I'll be able to persuade him that any reaper he may be using at the
present moment is a jay compared to Bundercombe's--this season's model!"
"I trust you may," I answered, a trifle tartly. "I am glad you're likely
to do a little business; but you won't mind, my reminding you--will you?--
that you really came down here to give me a leg up with my election, and
not to sell your machines or to spend half your time in the enemy's camp!"
Mr. Bundercombe smiled. It was a curious smile, which seemed somehow to
lose itself in his face. Then the dinner gong sounded and he winked at me
slowly. Again I was conscious of some slight uneasiness. It began to dawn
upon me that there was a scheme somewhere hatching; that Mr. Bundercombe's
activity in the camp of the enemy might perhaps have an unsuspected
significance. I talked to Eve about this after dinner; but she reassured
me.
"Father talks of nothing but his reaping machines," she declared.
"Besides, I am quite sure he would do nothing indiscreet. Only yesterday I
found him studying a copy of the act referring to bribery and corruption.
Dad's pretty smart, you know!"
"I do know that," I admitted.
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