retired from active business
and invested his millions in ways that would cause him the least
annoyance; but the income on so large a sum was more than he could take
care of, and even Major Doyle, who managed these affairs for his
brother-in-law, was often puzzled to know what to do with the money that
accumulated.

Doubtless no one will ever know how much good these two kindly men
accomplished between them in their quiet, secretive way. Dozens of
deserving young men were furnished capital to start them in business;
dozens more were being educated at universities at Uncle John's expense.
Managers of worthy charities were familiar with John Merrick's signature
on checks, and yet the vast fortune grew with leaps and bounds. Mr.
Merrick's life was so simple and unostentatious that his personal
expenses, however erratic some of his actions, could not make much
headway against his interest account, and nothing delighted him more
than to find a way to "get even with fate by reckless squandering," as
he quaintly expressed it. He was far too shrewd to become the prey of
designing people, but welcomed any legitimate channel in which to unload
his surplus.

So Mr. Merrick had been revolving the possibilities of this unique
political campaign in his mind, and had decided to do some things that
would open the bucolic eyes of Kenneth's constituents in wonder. He did
not confide all his schemes to Patsy, but having urged his nieces to
attempt this conquest he had no intention of allowing them to suffer
defeat if he could help it.

The little town of Elmwood was quiet and practically deserted when they
drove into it. The farmers were too busy with the harvest to "come to
town for trading" except on Saturdays, and the arrival and departure of
the two daily trains did not cause more than a ripple of excitement in
the village.

Patsy decided she would shop at each and every store in the place, and
engage the store-keepers in conversation about the election.

"It's important to win these people," she declared, "because they are
close to every farmer who comes to town to trade; and their own votes
count, too."

"I'll run over to the bank," said Uncle John, "and get acquainted
there."

So he tied the horses to a post and let Patsy proceed alone upon her
mission, while he wandered over to a little brick building of neat
appearance which bore the inscription "Bank" in gold letters on its
plate-glass window.

"Mr. Warren in?" he as