eabody."

"It is not his own election he's working for," said Winthrop. He was
conscious of an effort to assume a point of view both noble and
magnanimous.

"He probably feels the 'cause' calls him. But, good Heavens!"

"Look out!" shrieked Sam, "where you going?"

Winthrop swung the car back into the avenue.

"To think," he cried, "that a man who could marry--a girl, and then
would ask her to wait two months. Or, two days! Two months lost out
of his life, and she might die; he might lose her, she might change her
mind. Any number of men can be Lieutenant-Governors; only one man can
be----"

He broke off suddenly, coughed and fixed his eyes miserably on the
road. After a brief pause, Brother Sam covertly looked at him. Could
it be that "Billie" Winthrop, the man liked of all men, should love his
sister, and--that she should prefer Ernest Peabody? He was deeply,
loyally indignant. He determined to demand of his sister an immediate
and abject apology.

At eight o'clock on the morning of election day, Peabody, in the
Scarlet Car, was on his way to vote. He lived at Riverside Drive, and
the polling-booth was only a few blocks distant. During the rest of
the day he intended to use the car to visit other election districts,
and to keep him in touch with the Reformers at the Gilsey House.
Winthrop was acting as his chauffeur, and in the rear seat was Miss
Forbes. Peabody had asked her to accompany him to the polling-booth,
because he thought women who believed in reform should show their
interest in it in public, before all men. Miss Forbes disagreed with
him, chiefly because whenever she sat in a box at any of the public
meetings the artists from the newspapers, instead of immortalizing the
candidate, made pictures of her and her hat. After she had seen her
future lord and master cast his vote for reform and himself, she was to
depart by train to Tarrytown. The Forbes's country place was there,
and for election day her brother Sam had invited out some of his
friends to play tennis.

As the car darted and dodged up Eighth Avenue, a man who had been
hidden by the stairs to the Elevated, stepped in front of it. It
caught him, and hurled him, like a mail-bag tossed from a train,
against one of the pillars that support the overhead tracks. Winthrop
gave a cry and fell upon the brakes. The cry was as full of pain as
though he himself had been mangled. Miss Forbes saw only the man
appear, and then disap