his guest, “I wish you would lend me that $50,000 until to-morrow. There are some of the boys outside whom I haven’t paid.” The money changed hands. The next day, having waited in vain for the promoter, Mr. Councilman armed himself with a revolver and began a search of the hotels. The hunt in St. Louis proved fruitless, but the irate legislator kept on the trail until he came face to face with the lobbyist in the corridor of the Waldorf-Astoria. The New Yorker, seeing the danger, seized the St. Louisan by the arm and said soothingly, “There, there; don’t take on so. I was called away suddenly. Come to supper with me; I will give you the money.”
The invitation was accepted, and champagne soon was flowing. When the man from the West had become sufficiently maudlin the promoter passed over to him a letter, which he had dictated to a typewriter while away from the table for a few minutes. The statement denied all knowledge of bribery.
“You sign that and I will pay you $5,000. Refuse, and you don’t get a cent,” said the promoter. The St. Louisan returned home carrying the $5,000, and that was all.
Meanwhile the promoter had not fared so well with other spoilsmen. By the terms of the ante-
