here as voters. After
registering they will disappear as unostentatiously as they came. But
meanwhile they will not satisfy themselves with being enrolled once, as
the decent citizens must do. They will go from precinct to precinct,
using fake addresses and changing names."

He smiled grimly, and then added with inelegant directness:

"We aim to get pictures of some of those birds--for use in court later."

"And the police will hamper you?"

"We don't expect much help from them."

Anne's eyes clouded with apprehension. She laid her hands on the boy's
arms. "Boone," she exclaimed, "you know Uncle Tom. In spite of his
gentleness, indignation makes him reckless. Will he be armed tomorrow?"

Boone shook his head. His eyes narrowed a little, and his tone indicated
personal disagreement with the decision which he repeated:

"No. They've decided that since they're seeking reform they must keep
inside both the letter and the spirit of the law. They've advised every
one to go unarmed except for heavy walking sticks. Even that has brought
a howl of 'attempted intimidation' from the city hall crowd--but I
reckon their gangs won't be unheeled."

"Are you going to be armed?"

Boone hesitated, but finally he answered with a trace of the ironic: "I
haven't quite made up my mind yet. You see, I learned my politics in the
bloody hills--though I never carried a gun when I was campaigning
there. Here, where it's civilized--I'm not so sure."

"Will you be with Uncle Tom, all the time tomorrow? Will you go
everywhere that he goes?" The question was put as an interrogation, but
it was an earnest plea as well, and Boone took both her hands in his.
They stood framed in the hall door, he holding her hands close pressed,
and her eyes giving him back look for look.

"I'll be with him every minute he'll let me," he declared. "Of course a
soldier must obey orders, and he can't choose his station."

It was standing like that with Boone holding Anne's hands, and their
faces close together, that Morgan, whose footsteps were soundless on the
carpeted stairway, saw them, and it was not a picture to reassure a
rival or to assuage the disdainful anger of a man of Morgan's
temperament for one whom he considered an ingrate and a presumptuous
upstart.

CHAPTER XXVI

Morgan's teeth closed with a slight click. The sinews of his chest and
arms tightened. Such insolence rightfully called for the chastisement of
cane or dog-whip, he thoug