or a fryin' pan at
home. Get me? If you say yes, that you're a woman's righter out and out,
you'll secretly lose the men's votes, but catch the women's. If you say
you're against 'em, Judge, it's most likely you're a plumb goner because
the women'll vote against you, and all the men that's for it'll vote
against you, and all them that dassn't do anything without askin'
permission from their wives'll hop you, and others won't count. So go
easy, Judge! Go easy! Keep on the fence as if you were a rooster that
had got frozen on the top rail. Bend a little this way and a little
that, so's to make both sides think you're for 'em. Say a heap that
means nothin' at all! Hurry up. They're waitin'!"

At first Jimmy was half-paralyzed by misunderstanding. Next he was
half-hypnotized by the voluble man's stream of rapid talk. Then his eye
wandered to a big sign on a board wired up to a pillar of the court
house entrance, where he read:

"GRAND PUBLIC RALLY! The distinguished Jurist, Hon. James
Woodworth-Granger, Judge of the Fourth District Court of Princetown,
will on Saturday, December 1st, address the voters of Yimville on the
issues of the campaign. TURNOUT! TURNOUT! and hear our next governor on
vital issues for the state welfare. COME ONE! COME ALL! EVERY MAN AND
WOMAN WELCOME! Time 2 o'clock P. M. sharp! Place, County Court House.
DON'T FORGET!"

He digested this in a flash, and comprehended the situation.
"But--but--" he said, "Wetherby was to settle that affair of the
Intermountain General Supply Company to-day and----"

"Oh, that was settled this forenoon, Judge," soothingly explained the
other welcomer. "Court got it out of the way so's the court room could
be open for the speech making this afternoon. Hello! Hear 'em? That's
the Yimville Silver Comet Band. Bill--I mean Mister Perry--has given the
band the tip you've got here. Come on! Now's the time!"

Any man less jocular, less nimble witted, and self-possessed than Mr.
James Gollop, would have then and there declared himself, and his
identity; but Mr. James Gollop's wits and humor, running in team and
usually at a gallop, were now racing like lightning. It was too late to
be a diplomat in behalf of his firm's future business with the
Intermountain people; and this boob of a country judge, pompous, slow,
egotistical, had been carrying a hatchet for one Jim Gollop ever since
he had suffered through the peculiar likeness to this unmentionable
candy drummer and--Jim