pleasure to the old man.

"Your telegram took a great load offen my mind," he said, as they
drove out to the farm. "Miss Rhody told me all along I need hev no
fears fer you, that you weren't no dawdler."

"Good for Miss Rhody!" laughed David. "She shall have her reward. I
brought her silk enough for two dresses at least."

"David," said M'ri suddenly at the dinner table, "do tell me for whose
name those initials in the dedication to your book stand. Is it any
one I know?"

"I hardly know the person myself," was the smiling and evasive
reply.

"A woman, David?"

"She figured largely in my fairy stories."

"A nickname he had for Janey," she thought with a sigh.

"Uncle Barnabas," said David the next day, "before we settle down to
things political tell me if you regret my South American experience."

"Now that you're back and gittin' into harness, I'll overlook
anything. You'd earnt a breathing spell, and you look a hull lot
older. Your book's kep' your name in the papers, tew, which helps."

"I will show you something that proves the book did more than that,"
said David, drawing his bank book from his pocket and passing it to
the old man, who read it unbelievingly.

"Why, Dave, you're rich!" he exclaimed.

"No; not rich. I shall always have to work for my living. So tell me
the situation."

This fully occupied the time it took to drive to town, for Cold
Molasses, successor to Old Hundred, kept the pace his name indicated.
The day was spent in meeting old friends, and then David settled down
to business with his old-time energy. Once more he was nominated for
the legislature and took up the work of campaigning for Stephen Hume,
opponent to Wilksley. Hume was an ardent, honest, clean-handed
politician without money, but he had for manager one Ethan Knowles, a
cool-headed, tireless veteran of campaign battles, with David acting
as assistant and speech maker.

David was elected, went to the capital, and was honored with the
office of speaker by unanimous vote. He had his plans carefully drawn
for the election of Hume, who came down on the regular train and
established headquarters at one of the hotels, surrounded by a quiet
and determined body of men.

Wilksley's supporters, a rollicking lot, had come by special train and
were quartered at a club, dispensing champagne and greenbacks
promiscuously and freely. There was also a third candidate, whose
backers were non-committal, giving no intimation as to wh