for?"

"So's I could get in and take a little joy ride with you," said Mr. Crow
affably. "Drop me at the post office, will you?" He stepped up beside
the deacon and calmly seated himself.

The deacon grumbled. "'Tain't more'n a hundred yards to the post
office," he said. "Stoppin' me like this an'--an' makin' me get out and
crank the car besides. An' I'm in a hurry, too. Couldn't you--"

"Well, I ain't in no hurry. If I was, don't you suppose I'd 'a' walked?"

That evening the town hall was filled with discouraged, apprehensive
Republicans. A half-dozen newly enfranchised women occupied front seats.
Ed. Higgins confided to those nearest him that he felt as though he was
in church, and Alf Reesling loudly advised the convention to be
careful, as there were ladies present.

Mr. Hud Lamson, as usual, was the chairman of the "Convention." No one
else ever had a chance to be chairman for the reason that Hud did not
insist upon having the honour thrust upon him. He simply _took_ it.

Following the usual resolutions condemning the Democratic Party to
perdition and at the same time eulogizing the Democratic Administration
at Washington, Mr. Ezra Pounder was nominated by acclamation for the
responsible post of town clerk. In swift succession, Ed. Higgins, Abner
Pickerell and Situate M. Jones were chosen for selectmen. Justice Robb
was unanimously chosen to succeed himself.

Then ensued a strange, significant silence--a silence fraught with
exceeding gravity and the portentous suggestion of something devastating
about to overtake the assemblage. Some one in the back of the hall
cleared his throat, and instantly, with one accord, every eye was turned
in his direction. It was as if he were clearing the way for action.

Harry Squires, the perennial secretary of all conventions held by all
parties in Tinkletown, by virtue of his skill with the pencil, arose
from his seat--and stepped to the front of the platform.

[Illustration: _Harry Squires stepped to the front of the platform_]

"Order!" called out Marshal Crow, in his most authoritative voice,
sweeping the convention with an accusing eye.

"Mr. Chairman, fellow Republicans and voters of the opposite sex," began
Harry, in a distinctly lugubrious tone, "we have now come to the most
critical moment in the history of Tinkletown. It is with ineffable
sorrow and dismay that I stand before you this evening, the bearer of
sad tidings. On the other hand, I expect to derive gre