hat we proceed to the nomination of a governor."

There was a hush during which Farr and Colonel Dodd looked at each
other, crossing their stares like long rapiers over the terraced heads.

"I fear I was wrong," confessed Farr, gently. "But we poor folks down in
the ranks don't know much about the rules, and when we are struggling
to save the ones we love we are apt to forget and talk to the heart of
things. I am not trying to show that I am a skilful orator, gentlemen of
the convention." He held up his arms. "I am crying for _Justice_!"

The delegates broke into applause once more.

And Walker Farr sent a queer look straight into the eyes of the colonel.

Conviction slapped Colonel Symonds Dodd in his mental face with a
violence that made him blink!

This man was no amateur in understanding how to sway an audience. To be
sure, he had transgressed parliamentary usage, but in those words he had
driven home facts that all knew to be truths--truths which others had
been afraid to voice, but which, once put into words in public, tied
the hideous stamp of ring favoritism upon Governor Harwood, made him a
candidate who could not be trusted.

The colonel understood, and he also saw plainly that the most of the
audience had accepted the apology, and held no prejudice against the
speaker.

"Now that I understand what the rules governing nominations are I will
not break them again," declared Farr.

But like a shrewd and not over-scrupulous lawyer he had jabbed into
the proceedings a stinging truth which, though excluded by the rules,
nevertheless served vitally the big purpose of his efforts; the colonel
understood that, too, and turned back to his chair fairly livid with
rage.

"There is a man in this state who knows true law," continued the
speaker, "and that you may be assured that he will sign a bill which is
passed for the good of the people, let me tell you a little about his
character."

Colonel Dodd cursed without trying to moderate his tones very much.

"There's no telling what tack that renegade will take next. This
infernal convention is getting to be a nightmare. Those fools out there
are listening as if they expected that cheap demagogue to bring 'em a
new Messiah," he told the committeemen near him.

"There's a funny noise going on out there among 'em," ventured
"Whispering Saunders." "Round-up fellows say they hear something like
it when a herd is getting ready to stampede. It's the same thing in a