lieve that Graham
was right. He wanted to believe it, for the burden of this thing was
annoying him. He knew that Lawyer Ed would have met the statements
with fiery contradictions, and J. P. Thornton would have answered with
clear, convincing facts. But he had given very little thought to the
subject, and could not remember any of the arguments. And he had
certainly heard, many, many times that the temperance measure had been
a failure in other towns.

He sat silent, his elbows on his knees, his hands locked together,
looking into the glowing grate and wishing he didn't have to be
bothered with it all. What had local option to do with his work,
anyway?

And then he realised that his host was talking again. In the midst of
his quiet insinuating remarks, there was a sharp tap on the door, and
Leslie swept into the room, very handsome in her soft, trailing white
dress.

"I'm just not going to let you two poke here any longer," she declared,
giving her father's ear a pull. "You're spoiling all Rod's evening,
Daddy, by talking business. His office is for that. Come right along
into the drawing-room this minute, the Baldwin girls have come, and
we're going to have some music."

The subject of local option was not referred to again that evening, but
Roderick realised that, in some subtle way, how, he scarcely knew, his
client had conveyed to him the unmistakable intelligence that should he
identify himself with the temperance forces in any prominent way, the
business of Graham and Company would have to be placed in other hands.

Roderick scarcely understood what had been said until he was walking
home in the clear frosty air with time to think it over.

He was miserably uncomfortable the next day when he found his chief
buried head and ears in temperance affairs.

"We'll have to wade into this with high-water boots, ma braw John
Hielanman!" he cried radiantly. "Be jabers! but I do love a fight, and
a fine old Donnybrook fair we're goin' to have!" And he relapsed into
a rich Irish brogue.

"Mr. Graham told me last night he'd like me to go north in a few
weeks," said Roderick in a strained voice. "I may have to be gone for
a month."

"On that Beaver Landing deal? Well now, that's a big thing, Rod!"
Lawyer Ed was scribbling madly at his desk while he talked, and calling
up some one on the telephone every three minutes. "You've got Sandy
Graham all right. Hello, Central, are you asleep? I said I wanted