ction--" he began meaningly.

"You mean----"

"Something like that."

"I won't have it, not if I lose the election. I won't stoop to
kidnapping a woman like a highwayman. What do you take me for,
Doolittle?" "Georgie, politics ain't no kid-glove bizness. It ain't
what _you_ want; you're jest a small part of this affair. You're _our_
candidate, and we _got_ to win this here election. Do you get me?"

He shot out his underjaw, and there was no sign of his usual good humor.

"Well, but----"

"You don't have to know anything about this. We'll handle it. You'll be
pertected to the limit; don't you worry," sneered Noonan.

"But you can't get away with this old-fashioned stuff nowadays,
Doolittle," protested Remington.

"Can't we? You jest leave it to your Uncle Benjamin. You don't know
nothing about this. See?"

"I know it's a dirty, low, underhanded----"

"George," remarked Mr. Doolittle, slowly hoisting his big body on to its
short legs, "in politics we don't call a spade a spade. We call it 'a
agricultural implument.'"

With this sage remark Mr. Doolittle took his departure, followed by the
other prominent citizens.

George sat where they left him, head in hands, for several moments. Then
he sprang up and rushed to the door to call them back.

He would not stand it--he would not win at that price. He had conceded
everything they had demanded of him up to this point, but here he drew
the line. Ever since that one independent fling of his about suffrage
they had treated him like a naughty child. What did they think he was--a
rubber doll? He would telephone Doolittle that he would rather give up
his candidacy. Here he paused.

Suppose he did withdraw, nobody would understand. The town would think
the women had frightened him off. He couldn't come out now and denounce
the machine methods of his party. Every eye in Whitewater was focused on
him; his friends were working for him; the district attorneyship was the
next step in his career; Genevieve expected him to win--no, he must go
through with it! But after he got into office, then he would show them!
He would take orders from no one. He sat down again and moodily surveyed
the future.

In the days which followed, another mental struggle was taking place
in the Remington family. Poor Genevieve was like a woman struck by
lightning. She felt that her whole structure of life had crashed about
her ears. In one blinding flash she had seen and condemned George
bec