se and Mr. Watson are going in the phaeton to visit some
of the near-by farmers. Take one road, dear, and follow it straight
along, as far as it keeps within our legislative district, and visit
every farm-house on the way."

"The farmers will all be busy in the fields," said Kenneth.

"Louise doesn't care about the farmers," retorted Patsy. "She's going to
talk to their wives."

"Wives don't vote, Patsy."

"They tell their husbands how to vote, though," declared Louise, with a
laugh. "Let me win the women and I'll win the men."

"What am I to do?" asked Beth.

"You're to stay at home and write several articles for the newspapers.
There are seven important papers in our district, and five of them are
Republican. Make a strong argument, Beth. You're our publicity
department. Also get up copy for some hand-hills and circular letters. I
want to get a circular letter to every voter in the district."

"All right," said Beth. "I know what you want."

There was an inspiring air of business about these preparations, and the
girls were all eager to begin work. Scarcely was breakfast finished when
the two equipages were at the door. Louise and Mr. Watson at once
entered the phaeton and drove away, the girl delighted at the prospect
of visiting the farmers' wives and winning them by her plausible
speeches. Conversation was Louise's strong point. She loved to talk and
argue, and her manner was so confiding and gracious that she seldom
failed to interest her listeners.

Patsy and Uncle John drove away. In Kenneth's buggy to the town, and
during the five-mile drive Patsy counseled gravely with her shrewd uncle
in regard to "ways and means."

"This thing requires prompt action, Patsy," he said, "and if we're going
to do things that count they've got to be done on a big scale."

"True," she admitted. "But oughtn't we to be a little careful about
spending Kenneth's money?"

"I'll be your temporary banker," said the old gentleman, "and keep track
of the accounts. If we win we'll present Kenneth our bill, and if we
fail I'll have the satisfaction of getting rid of some of that dreadful
income that is swamping me."

This was always Uncle John's cry. His enormous fortune was a constant
bugbear to him. He had been so interested in his business enterprises
for many years that he had failed to realize how his fortune was
growing, and it astounded him to wake up one day and find himself
possessed of many millions. He had at once