whom she had spoken
regarding the new work was the clerk of the board, and then only
casually as to the exact time when the bids would be received.

The day before the eventful night when the proposals were to be opened,
Mr. Crane, in his buggy, stopped at her house on his way back from the
fort, and they drove together to the ferry. When she returned she called
Pop into the kitchen, shut the door, and showed him the bid duly signed
and a slip of pink paper. This was a check of Crane & Co.'s to be
deposited with the bid. Then she went down to the stable and had a long
conference with Cully.

The village Board of Trustees consisted of nine men, representing a fair
average of the intelligence and honesty of the people. The president
was a reputable hardware merchant, a very good citizen, who kept a store
largely patronized by local contractors. The other members were two
lawyers,--young men working up in practice with the assistance of a
political pull,--a veterinary surgeon, and five gentlemen of leisure,
whose only visible means of support were derived from pool-rooms and
ward meetings. Every man on the board, except the surgeon and the
president, had some particular axe to grind. One wished to be sheriff;
another, county clerk. The five gentlemen of leisure wished to stay
where they were. When a pie was cut, these five held the knife. It was
their fault, they said, when they went hungry.

In the side of this body politic the surgeon was a thorn as sharp as any
one of his scalpels. He was a hard-headed, sober-minded Scotchman, who
had been elected to represent a group of his countrymen living in the
eastern part of the village, and whose profession, the five supposed,
indicated without doubt his entire willingness to see through a
cart-wheel, especially when the hub was silver-plated. At the first
meeting of the board they learned their mistake, but it did not worry
them much. They had seven votes to two.

The council-chamber of the board was a hall--large for
Rockville--situated over the post-office, and only two doors from
O'Leary's barroom It was the ordinary village hall, used for everything
from a Christmas festival to a prize-fight. In summer it answered for a
skating-rink.

Once a month the board occupied it. On these occasions a sort of rostrum
was brought in for the president, besides a square table and a dozen
chairs. These were placed at one end, and were partitioned off by a
wooden rail to form an incl