oblige. Present incumbent tenacious. Unconditionally
refuses surrender. Delicate matter. No hope for K. H. But don't worry.
Everything all right.

"WARREN SMITH."

"Harkless, if you have the strength to walk, come down before the
convention. Get here by 10.47. Looks bad. Come if it kills you.

"K. H."

"You entrusted me with sole responsibility for all matters pertaining
to 'Herald.' Declared yourself mere spectator. Does this permit your
interfering with my policy for the paper? Decline to consider any
proposition to relieve me of my duties without proper warning and
allowance of time.

"H. FISBEE."

CHAPTER XIX. THE GREAT HARKLESS COMES HOME

The accommodation train wandered languidly through the early afternoon
sunshine, stopping at every village and almost every country post-office
on the line; the engine toot-tooting at the road crossings; and, now and
again, at such junctures, a farmer, struggling with a team of prancing
horses, would be seen, or, it might be, a group of school children,
homeward bound from seats of learning. At each station, when the train
came to a stand-still, some passenger, hanging head and elbows out of
his window, like a quilt draped over a chair, would address a citizen on
the platform:

"Hey, Sam, how's Miz Bushkirk?"

"She's wal."

"Where's Milt, this afternoon?"

"Warshing the buggy." Then at the cry, "All 'board"--"See you Sunday
over at Amo."

"You make Milt come. I'll be there, shore. So long."

There was an impatient passenger in the smoker, who found the stoppages
at these wayside hamlets interminable, both in frequency and in the
delay at each of them; and while the dawdling train remained inert, and
the moments passed inactive, his eyes dilated and his hand clenched till
the nails bit his palm; then, when the trucks groaned and the wheels
crooned against the rails once more, he sank back in his seat with
sighs of relief. Sometimes he would get up and pace the aisle until his
companion reminded him that this was not certain to hasten the hour of
their arrival at their destination.

"I know that," answered the other, "but I've got to beat McCune."

"By the way," observed Meredith, "you left your stick behind."

"You don't think I need a club to face----"

Tom choked. "Oh, no. I wasn't thinking of your giving H. Fisbee a