walls for safety; the two gentlemen leaped from the cart, bore down upon
the ticket-office, stormed at the agent, and ran madly at the gates,
flourishing their passports. The official on duty eyed them wearily, and
barred the way.

"Been gone two minutes," he remarked, with a peaceable yawn.

Harkless stamped his foot on the cement flags; then he stood stock
still, gazing at the empty tracks; but Meredith turned to him, smiling.

"Won't it keep?" he asked.

"Yes, it will keep," John answered. "Part of it may have to keep till
election day, but some of it I will settle before night. And that," he
cried, between his teeth, "and that is the part of it in regard to young
Mr. Fisbee!"

"Oh, it's about H. Fisbee, is it?"

"Yes, it's H. Fisbee."

"Well, we might as well go up and see what the doctor thinks of you;
there's no train."

"I don't want to see a doctor again, ever--as long as I live. I'm as
well as anybody."

Tom burst out laughing, and clapped his companion lightly on the
shoulder, his eyes dancing with pleasure.

"Upon my soul," he cried, "I believe you are! It's against all my
tradition, and I see I am the gull of poetry; for I've always believed
it to be beyond question that this sort of miracle was wrought, not by
rage, but by the tenderer senti--" Tom checked himself. "Well, let's
take a drive."

"Meredith," said the other, turning to him gravely, "you may think me a
fool, if you will, and it's likely I am; but I don't leave this station
except by train. I've only two days to work in, and every minute lessens
our chances to beat McCune, and I have to begin by wasting time on a
tussle with a traitor. There's another train at eleven fifty-five; I
don't take any chances on missing that one."

"Well, well," laughed his friend, pushing him good-humoredly toward a
door by a red and white striped pillar, "we'll wait here, if you like;
but at least go in there and get a shave; it's a clean shop. You want to
look your best if you are going down to fight H. Fisbee."

"Take these, then, and you will understand," said Harkless; and
he thrust his three telegrams of the morning into Tom's hand and
disappeared into the barber-shop. When he was gone, Meredith went to the
telegraph office in the station, and sent a line over the wire to Helen:

"Keep your delegation at home. He's coming on the 11.55."

Then he read the three telegrams Harkless had given him. They were all
from Plattville:

"Sorry cannot