David's penetration into a thorough understanding
of each bill, and the patience and sagacity he displayed in settling
all disputes, won the approbation of even doubtful and divided
factions. He flashed a new fire of life into the ebbing enthusiasm of
his followers, whom he had led to victory on the Griggs Bill. At the
close of the session, early in May, he was presented with a set of
embossed resolutions commending his fulfillment of his duties.

That same night, in his room at the hotel, as he was packing his
belongings, he was waited upon by a delegation composed alike of
horny-handed tillers of the soil and distinguished statesmen.

"We come, David," said the spokesman, who had been chairman of the
county convention, "to say that you are our choice for the next
governor of this state, and in saying this we know we are echoing the
sentiment of the Republican party. In fact, we are looking to you as
the only man who can bring that party to victory."

He said many more things, flattering and echoed by his followers. It
made the blood tingle in David's veins to know that these men of
plain, honest, country stock, like himself, believed in him and in his
honor. In kaleidoscopic quickness there passed in review his
life,--the days when he and his mother had struggled with a wretched
poverty that the neighbors had only half suspected, the first turning
point in his life, when he was taken unto the hearth and home of
strong-hearted people, his years at college, the plodding days in
pursuit of the law, his hotly waged fight in the legislature, and his
short literary career, and he felt a surging of boyish pride at the
knowledge that he was now approaching his goal.

The next morning David went to Lafferton in order to discuss the road
to the ruling of the people.

"Whom would you suggest for manager of my campaign, Uncle Barnabas?"
he asked.

"Knowles came to me and offered his services. Couldn't have a slicker
man, Dave."

"None better in the state. I shouldn't have ventured to ask him."

Janey was home for the summer, and on the first evening of his return
she and David sat together on the porch.

"Oh, Davey," she said with a little sob, "Jud has come home again, and
they say he isn't just wild any more, but thoroughly bad."

The tears in her eyes and the tremor in her tone stirred all his old
protective instinct for her.

"Poor Jud! I'll see if I can't awaken some ambition in him for a
different life."

"