"Go ahead," he commanded. "Baltimore."
XXIV
THE PERSONAL EQUATION
Mr. Campbell ceased talking and the deep earnestness that had settled on
his face passed, leaving instead the blank, inscrutable mask of
benevolence behind which his clock-like genius was habitually hidden.
The choleric blue eyes of the president of the United States shifted
inquiringly to the thoughtful countenance of the secretary of state at
his right, thence along the table around which the official family was
gathered. It was a special meeting of the cabinet called at the
suggestion of Chief Campbell, and for more than an hour he had done the
talking. There had been no interruption.
"So much!" he concluded, at last. "If there is any point I have not made
clear Mr. Grimm is here to explain it in person."
Mr. Grimm rose at the mention of his name and stood with his hands
clasped behind his back. His eyes met those of the chief executive
listlessly.
"We understand, Mr. Grimm," the president began, and he paused for an
instant to regard the tall, clean-cut young man with a certain
admiration, "we understand that there does not actually exist such a
thing as a Latin compact against the English-speaking peoples?"
"On paper, no," was the reply.
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