I'm a candidate for the Chairman of the Selectmen, if town
meetin' is eight months away. An', Sam Price, I'll expect the Democrats
to git into line."

With this ultimatum Chester drove away as rapidly as he had come.

"I want to know!" said Sam Price, an exclamation peculiarly suited to his
voice. But nevertheless Sam might be counted on in each of these little
rebellions. He, too, had remained steadfast to Jacksonian principles, and
he had never forgiven Jethro about a little matter of a state office
which he (Sam) had failed to obtain.

Before he went to bed Jake Wheeler had written a letter which he sent off
to the state capital by the stage the next morning. In it he indicted no
less than twenty of his fellow-townsmen for treason; and he also thought
it wise to send over to Clovelly for Bijah Bixby, a lieutenant in that
section, to come and look over the ground and ascertain by his well-known
methods how far the treason had eaten into the body politic. Such was
Jake's ordinary procedure when the bombs were fired, for Mr. Wheeler was
nothing if not cautious.

Three mornings later, a little after seven o'clock, when the storekeeper
and his small daughter were preparing to go to Brampton upon a very
troublesome errand, Chester Perkins appeared again. It is always easy to
stir up dissatisfaction among the ne'er-do-wells (Jethro had once done it
himself), and during the three days which had elapsed since Chester had
flung down the gauntlet there had been more or less of downright treason
heard in the store. William Wetherell, who had perplexities of his own,
had done his best to keep out of the discussions that had raged on his
cracker boxes and barrels, for his head was a jumble of figures which
would not come right. And now as he stood there in the freshness of the
early summer morning, waiting for Lem Hallowell's stage, poor Wetherell's
heart was very heavy.

"Will Wetherell," said Chester, "you be a gentleman and a student, hain't
you? Read history, hain't you?"

"I have read some," said William Wetherell.

"I callate that a man of parts," said Chester, "such as you be, will help
us agin corruption and a dictator. I'm a-countin' on you, Will Wetherell.
You've got the store, and you kin tell the boys the difference between
right and wrong. They'll listen to you, because you're eddicated."

"I don't know anything about politics," answered Wetherell, with an
appealing glance at the silent group,--group that was