was already beaten, and beaten badly. John
Harkless lay sick, and Rodney McCune would sit in Congress, for the
nomination meant election. But one day the Harkless forces, demoralized,
broken, almost hopeless, woke up to find that they had a leader. Many
of them were content with the belief that this was a young lawyer
named Keating, who had risen up in Amo; but Mr. Keating himself had a
different impression.

Helen was a little nervous, and very much excited, over the political
conference at Judge Briscoe's. She planned it with careful diplomacy,
and arranged the details with a fine sense of the dramatic. There was
a suggestion she desired to have made in this meeting, which she
wished should emanate from the Amo and Gaines County people, instead of
proceeding from Carlow--for she thought it better to make the outsiders
believe her idea an inspiration of their own--so she made a little
comedy and provided for Briscoe's entrance at an effective moment. The
judge was a substantial influence, strong in the councils of his party
when he chose to be; and though of late years he had contented himself
with voting at the polls, every one knew what weight he carried when he
saw fit to bestir himself.

When he entered the parlor, he found the politicians in a state of
subdued excitement. Helen sat by the window, blushing, and talking
eagerly to old Fisbee. One of the gentlemen from Gaines County was
walking about the room exclaiming, "A glorious conception! A glorious
conception!" addressing the bric-a-brac, apparently. (He thought the
conception his own.) Mr. Martin was tugging at his beard and whispering
to Landis and Homer, and the two Amo men were consulting in a corner,
but as the judge came in, one of them turned and said loudly, "That's
the man."

"What man am I, Keating?" asked Briscoe, cheerily.

"We better explain, I guess," answered the other; and turning to his
compatriot: "You tell him, Boswell."

"Well--it's this way--" said Boswell, and came at once to an awkward
pause, turning aside sheepishly and unable to proceed.

"So that's the way of it, is it?" said the old gentleman.

Helen laughed cheerfully, and looked about her with a courageous and
encouraging eye. "It is embarrassing," she said. "Judge Briscoe, we are
contemplating 'a piece of the blackest treachery and chicanery.' We are
going to give Mr. Halloway the--the go-by!" The embarrassment fell away,
and everybody began to talk at once.

"Hold on a