bulletins as the ballots were counted and the returns came in. We
were at campaign headquarters and got the figures early.

The scattering returns were satisfactory. Through most of the district
they showed a gain for us over past encounters. The drift was all our
way, but it was not big enough to offset all contingencies. There was
nothing from the Ninth Ward yet. The counting was slow there.

It was eleven o'clock before the vote of any precinct from the Ninth
Ward came in. It stood as follows:

Harlson, 71.

Sharkey, 53.

Harlson picked up the filled-out blank, glanced at it, and threw it
down again.

"It's some mistake," he said; "that precinct is one of the stiffest the
other way. Wait until we get more of them."

We waited, but not for long. The returns came fluttering in like
pigeons now. The second read:

Harlson, 33.

Sharkey, 30.

There dawned a light upon me; but I said no word. I was interested in
watching Harlson's face. He was a trifle pale, despite his usual
self-control, and was noting the figures carefully. Added precincts
repeated the same story. Harlson would take up a return, glance at it,
compare it with another, and then examine a dozen of them together, for
once in his life he was taken unawares, and was at sea. He left the
table at length, lit a cigar, and came over to where I stood, leaning
against the wall.

"What does it mean, Alf? If those figures don't lie, the Ninth Ward
has swung as vigorously for us as it ever did against us. With an even
vote in the ward the chances were about even. Now, unless I'm
dreaming, we own the district."

"We do."

"But how is it? What does it all mean?"

"I suppose it means that Gunderson is with you."

"But how can that be?"

"Were you at Mrs. Gorson's party?"

"No."

"Jean was there, though."

"Yes."

"So was Mrs. Gunderson."

The man's face was a study worth the scrutiny. For a moment or two he
uttered no word. The whole measurement of it was dawning on him. "The
little rhinoceros-bird!" he said, softly.

The room was thronged, and there was a roar of cheers. The issue was
decided beyond all question. The newspaper offices were flashing out
the fact from illuminated windows. There were shouting crowds upon the
streets. Hosts of people were grasping Harlson's hand. He had little
to say save to thank them in a perfunctory manner. He was in a hurry
to get home.

When I dined with Harlson the next day