paused upon the back of a dirty envelope.

"Here's how the convention stands, to a man," he said. "Sure, two
hundred and sixty-seven-by 'sure' I mean the fellows we own outright.
Safe, two hundred and forty-five-by 'safe' I mean those that'll stand
by the organization, thick and thin. Insurgents, two hundred and
ninety-five--those are the chaps that've gone clean crazy with
Scarborough. Doubtful, three hundred and eighty-six-some of 'em can be
bought; most of 'em are waiting to see which way the cat jumps, so as
to jump with her."

"Then we've got five hundred and twelve, and it takes five hundred and
ninety-seven to elect," said Merriweather, the instant the last word
was out of Larkin's mouth. Merriweather was a mite of a man, could
hardly have weighed more than a hundred pounds, had a bulging forehead,
was bald and gray at the temples, eyes brown as walnut juice and quick
and keen as a rat-terrier's. His expression was the gambler's--calm,
watchful, indifferent, pallid, as from years of nights under the
gas-light in close, hot rooms, with the cards sliding from the faro box
hour after hour.

"Eighty-five short--that's right," assented Larkin. Then, with a look
at Culver: "And some of 'em'll come mighty high."

"Where are you going to do business with them?" inquired Merriweather.
"Here?"

"Right here in this room, where I've done it many's the time before,"
replied Larkin. "To-morrow night Conkey Sedgwick and my boy Tom'll
begin steerin' 'em in one at a time about eight o'clock."

"Then I'll turn the money over to you at seven to-morrow night," said
Culver. "I've got it in a safe place."

"Not one of the banks, I hope," said Merriweather.

"We noted your suggestions on that point, and on all the others,"
Culver answered with gracious condescension. "That's why I brought
cash in small denominations and didn't go near anybody with it."

Larkin rose. "I've got to get to work. See you here to-morrow night
at seven, Mr. Culver--seven sharp. I guess it'll be Judge Graney on
the third ballot. On the first ballot the organization'll vote solid
for Graney, and my fellows'll vote for John Frankfort. On the second
ballot half my Frankfort crowd'll switch over to Graney. On the third
I'll put the rest of 'em over, and that'll be enough to elect--probably
the Scarborough crowd'll see it's no use and let us make it unanimous.
The losers are always hot for harmony."

"That sounds well," said Merriweather-