dutiful and affectionate desire on the part of a son to make his old

father happy for a moment. Continuing his train of thought, Tracy said

to himself, "Ah, but if he should cable me to come home! I--I--couldn't

do that--I mustn't do that. I've started out on a mission, and I mustn't

turn my back on it in cowardice. No, no, I couldn't go home, at--at--

least I shouldn't want to go home." After a reflective pause: "Well,

maybe--perhaps--it would be my duty to go in the circumstances; he's very

old and he does need me by him to stay his footsteps down the long hill

that inclines westward toward the sunset of his life. Well, I'll think

about that. Yes, of course it wouldn't be right to stay here. If I--

well, perhaps I could just drop him a line and put it off a little while

and satisfy him in that way. It would be--well, it would mar everything

to have him require me to come instantly." Another reflective pause--

then: "And yet if he should do that I don't know but--oh, dear me--home!

how good it sounds! and a body is excusable for wanting to see his home

again, now and then, anyway."

He went to one of the telegraph offices in the avenue and got the first

end of what Barrow called the "usual Washington courtesy," where "they

treat you as a tramp until they find out you're a congressman, and then

they slobber all over you." There was a boy of seventeen on duty there,

tying his shoe. He had his foot on a chair and his back turned towards

the wicket. He glanced over his shoulder, took Tracy's measure, turned

back, and went on tying his shoe. Tracy finished writing his telegram

and waited, still waited, and still waited, for that performance to

finish, but there didn't seem to be any finish to it; so finally Tracy

143

The American Claimant