he first, more slowly and earnestly. "It's a fair and secret
ballot we're striving for. The votes is wrote out and ready, and all
we're shy of is a stranger without family ties or business interests to
hold the box and do the counting." His deep tones ceased, and he wiped
heavy drops from his forehead with his shirt sleeve. "We'd be kind of
awful obliged to you," he urged. "The town would be liable to make it
two bottles," said the second. The third brought his fist down on the
back of a seat and said, "I'll make it that now." "But, gentlemen," said
I, "five, six, and seven years ago I was not a stranger in Sharon. If my
friend Dean Drake was still here--" "But he ain't. Now you might as well
help folks, and eat later. This town will trust you. And if you quit
us--" Once more he wiped the heavy drops away, while in a voice full of
appeal his friend finished his thought: "If we lose you, we'll likely
have to wait till this train comes in to-morrow for a man satisfactory
to this town. And the show is costing us a heap." A light hand tapped
my arm, and here was Mrs. Brewton saying: "For shame! Show your
enterprise." "I'll hold this yere train," shouted Gadsden, "if
necessary." Mrs. Brewton rose alertly, and they all hurried me out. "My
slippers will stay right on when I'm down the steps," said Mrs. Brewton,
and Gadsden helped her descend into the blazing dust and sun of Sharon.
"Gracious!" said she, "what a place! But I make it a point to see
everything as I go." Nothing had changed. There, as of old, lay the
flat litter of the town--sheds, stores, and dwellings, a shapeless
congregation in the desert, gaping wide everywhere to the glassy,
quivering immensity; and there, above the roofs, turned the slatted
wind-wheels. But close to the tracks, opposite the hotel, was an
edifice, a sort of tent of bunting, from which brass music issued,
while about a hundred pink and blue sun-bonnets moved and mixed near
the entrance. Little black Mexicans, like charred toys, lounged and lay
staring among the ungraded dunes of sand. "Gracious!" said Mrs. Brewton
again. Her eye lost nothing; and as she made for the tent the chintz
peonies flowed around her, and her step was surprisingly light. We
passed through the sunbonnets and entered where the music played. "The
precious blessed darlings!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands. "This
will do for the Golden Daughters," she rapidly added; "yes, this will
distinctly do." And she hastened away fro