re not going to
be bossed. He's for Lebanon and we're for Manitou. Lebanon means to boss
us, Lebanon wants to sit on us because we're Catholics, because we're
French, because we're honest."

Again a wave of revolution swept through the crowd. The big river-driver
represented their natural instincts, their native fanaticism, their
prejudices. But the old man spoke once more.

"Ingolby wants Lebanon and Manitou to come together, not to fall apart,"
he declared. "He wants peace. If he gets rich here he won't get rich
alone. He's working for both towns. If he brings money from outside,
that's good for both towns. If he--"

"Shut your mouth, let Ingolby speak for himself," snarled the big
river-driver. "Take his dollars out of your pocket and put them on the
bar, the dollars Ingolby gives you to say all this. Put them dollars of
Ingolby's up for drinks, or we'll give you a jar that'll shake you, old
wart-hog."

At that instant a figure forced itself through the crowd, and broke into
the packed circle which was drawing closer upon the old man.

It was Jethro Fawe. He flung a hand out towards the old man.

"You want Ingolby--well, that's Ingolby," he shouted.

Like lightning the old man straightened himself, snatched the wig and
beard away from his head and face, and with quiet fearlessness said:

"Yes, I am Ingolby."

For an instant there was absolute silence, in which Ingolby weighed his
chances. He was among enemies. He had meant only to move among the
crowd to discover their attitude, to find things out for himself. He
had succeeded, and his belief that Manitou could be swayed in the right
direction if properly handled, was correct. Beneath the fanaticism and
the racial spirit was human nature; and until Jethro Fawe had appeared,
he had hoped to prevent violence and the collision at to-morrow's
funeral.

Now the situation was all changed. It was hard to tell what sharp turn
things might take. He was about to speak, but suddenly from the crowd
there was spat out at him the words, "Spy! Sneak! Spy!"

Instantly the wave of feeling ran against him. He smiled frankly,
however, with that droll twist of his mouth which had won so many, and
the raillery of his eyes was more friendly than any appeal.

"Spy, if you like, my friends," he said firmly and clearly. "Moses sent
spies down into the Land of Promise, and they brought back big bunches
of grapes. Well, I've come down into a land of promise. I wanted to know
jus