ly independent, but in political campaigns we adopt the side we
consider the most deserving of support."

"You're supporting Hopkins just now."

"Only mildly; only mildly, sir."

"What is he paying you?"

"Why, 'Rast and I haven't come to a definite settlement yet. I ought to
get a hundred dollars out of this campaign, but 'Rast thinks fifty is
enough. You see, he plans on my support anyhow, and don't like to spend
more than he's obliged to."

"Why does he plan on your support?"

"He's the only live one in the game, Mr. Merrick. 'Rast is one of
us--he's one of the people--and it's policy for me to support him
instead of the icicle up at Elmhurst, who don't need the job and don't
care whether he gets it or not."

"Is that true?"

"I think so. And there's another thing. Young Forbes is dead against
advertising, and advertising is the life of a newspaper. Why, there
isn't a paper in the district that's supporting Forbes this year."

"You've a wrong idea of the campaign, Mr. Briggs," said Uncle John. "It
is because Mr. Forbes believes in newspaper advertising, and wants to
protect it, that he's against these signs. That's one reason, anyhow.
Can't you understand that every dollar spent for painting signs takes
that much away from your newspapers?"

"Why, perhaps there's something in that, Mr. Merrick. I'd never looked
at it that way before."

"Now, see here, Mr. Briggs. I'll make you a proposition. I'll give you
two hundred and fifty to support Mr. Forbes in this campaign, and if
he's elected I'll give you five hundred extra."

"Do you mean that, sir?" asked the editor, scarcely able to believe the
evidence of his ears.

"I do. Draw up a contract and I'll sign it. And here's a check for your
two-fifty in advance."

The editor drew up the agreement with a pen that trembled a little.

"And now," said Uncle John, "get busy and hustle for Kenneth Forbes."

"I will, sir," said Briggs, with unexpected energy. "I mean to win that
extra five hundred!"

CHAPTER VII

PATSY MAKES PROGRESS

Meantime Patsy was in the thick of the fray. The druggist was a
deep-dyed Democrat, and sniffed when she asked him what he thought of
Forbes for Representative.

"He's no politician at all--just an aristocrat," declared Latham, a
dapper little man with his hair slicked down to his ears and a waxed
moustache. "And he's got fool notions, too. If he stopped the
advertising signs I wouldn't sell half as many pain-kille