u know it."

"Um--hum. And Darius is on the committee--why?"

"Well, I s'pose 'cause Heman Atkins thought he'd be a good feller to
have there. But--"

"Yes, and 'Lonzo's pew in church is right under the Atkins memorial
window. The light from it makes a kind of halo round his bald head every
Sunday."

"Well, what of it? Heman, nor nobody else, could buy 'Lonzo Snow."

"Buy him? Indeed they couldn't. But there are some things you get
without buyin'--the measles, for instance. And the one that's catchin'
'em don't know he's in danger till the speckles break out. Fellers, this
committee voted in Phoebe Dawes by just two votes to one, and one of
the two was Lem Myrick. Darius was against her. Now with Tad and his
'Providence' puttin' in 'Lonzo Snow, and Heman Atkins settin' behind
the screen workin' his Normal School music box so's they can hear the
tune--well, Phoebe MAY stay this term out, but how about next?"

"Hey? Why, I don't know. Anyhow, you're down on Phoebe as a thousand of
brick. I don't see why you worry about HER. After the way she treated
poor Bos'n and all."

Captain Cy stirred uneasily and kicked a chip across the floor.

"Well," he said, "well, I--I don't know's that's--That is, right's right
and wrong's wrong. I've seen bullfights down yonder--" jerking his thumb
over his shoulder in the vague direction of Buenos Ayres, "and every
time my sympathy's been with the bull. Not that I loved the critter for
his own sake, but because all Greaserdom was out to down him. From what
I hear, this Phoebe Dawes--for all her pesky down-East stubbornness--is
teachin' pretty well, and anyhow she's one little woman against Tad
Simpson and Heman Atkins and--and Tad's special brand of Providence. She
deserves a fair shake and, by the big dipper, she's goin' to have it!
Look here, you two! how would I look on the school committee?"

"You?" repeated the pair in concert. "YOU?"

"Yes, me. I ain't a Solomon for wisdom, but I cal'late I'd be as near
the top of the barrel as Darius Ellis, and only one or two layers under
Eben Salters or 'Lonzo Snow. I'm a candidate--see?"

"But--but, Whit," gasped the town clerk, "are you popular enough? Could
you get elected?"

"I don't know, but I can find out. You and Bailey 'll vote for me, won't
you?"

"Course we will, but--"

"All right. There's two votes. A hundred and odd more'll put me in.
Here goes for politics and popularity. I may be president yet; you can't
tell. And s