ho could not save himself every mother saw her
boy, her girl; one a drunkard-to-be perhaps, the other mayhap a
drunkard's wife and the mother of more drunkards.

Seth's eyes blazed around Billy's crowded office and he waited for the
question that he knew he would be asked:

"Well--Seth--you voting the town dry this morning?"

And then Seth let loose. He said fool things to ease his ugly temper
but he wound up his argument with the telling reminder that Green
Valley couldn't afford to lose the fifteen-hundred-dollar yearly
license tax.

"Not only would we men lose our freedom and be a thirsty lot of
wife-driven idiots but our taxes would rise."

And that argument told. It had been overlooked somehow. But at the
mention of it every man's face but Jake's brightened. Why, sure--Seth
was right. That fifteen hundred dollars kept the taxes down and was an
argument that ought to appeal to every Green Valley woman whose life
was an eternal struggle to save.

"Why, yes, that's so," agreed Jake. "It seems as if the women ought to
see that, but like as not they'll talk back and say that if there was
no hotel bar to attract us men there'd be less time wasted and more
than fifteen hundred dollars' worth of extra work turned out. And for
all they talk so everlastingly about saving, there's some kind of money
that no nice woman will touch with a ten-foot pole. And just put it up
to them as to which they want, Jim Tumley or fifteen hundred a year,
and see what they say."

Jake was the richest man of all the men packed in Billy Evans' office.
He could afford to talk bravely for he had no need to curry any man's
favor. And he could demand respectful attention for his opinions.
There were those present who resented this independence.

"These farmers nowadays are getting danged smart and officious,"
muttered Sears to Sam Bobbins.

But Sam wasn't listening. He too had an argument and he wanted to
voice it.

"Mightn't the closing of the bar lose us a lot of outside trade, ruin
our business life?"

At that Billy's eyes twinkled.

"By gosh--Sam--I hadn't thought of that. I sure would miss the poor
drunks that crawl in here to sleep it off. And like as not I'd not get
to drive old man Hathaway home every time he hits town and tries to
paint it red. Never have dared to leave that old fool in town when he
was drunk. Never can tell what that poor miserable mind of his
mightn't prompt him to do. Might set fire to somet