slowly the
other way. He always had a humorous twinkle in his shrewd gray eye.
He had it now.

"Meaning me?" he drawled, eyeing the indignant young girl just as he
would look at an angry kitten.

"Yes, Mr. Moore," said Janice, with dignity. "A word from you, and Lem
Parraday would stop selling liquor. He would have to. And without
your encouragement he would never have entered into the nefarious
traffic. Polktown is being injured daily by that bar at the Inn, and
you more than any other one person are guilty of this crime against the
community!"

Mr. Cross Moore did not change his attitude. Janice was panting and
half crying now. The selectman said, slowly:

"I might say that you are an impudent girl."

"I guess I am," Janice admitted tearfully. "But I mean every word I
have said, and I won't take it back."

"You and I have been good friends, Janice Day," continued Mr. Moore in
his drawling way. "I never like to quarrel with my friends."

"You can be no friend of mine, Mr. Moore, till the sale of liquor stops
in this town, and you are converted," declared Janice, wiping her eyes,
but speaking quite as bravely as before.

"Then it is war between us?" he asked, yet not lightly.

"Yes, sir," sobbed Janice. "I always have liked you, Mr. Cross Moore.
But now I can't bear even to look at you! I don't approve of you at
all--not one little bit!"

CHAPTER XV

AND NOW IT IS DISTANT TROUBLE

Mr. Massey had been attending to the overcome Hopewell Drugg. He mixed
him something and forced it down his throat. Then he whispered to Frank
Bowman:

"It was brandy. I can smell it on his breath. Pshaw! Hopewell's a
harmless critter. Why couldn't they let him alone?"

Frank had taken up the violin. The moisture had got to it a little on
the back and the young man thoughtlessly held it near the fire to dry.
Hopewell's eyes opened and almost immediately he staggered to his feet,
reaching for the instrument.

"Wrong! wrong!" he muttered. "Never do that. Crack the varnish. Spoil
the tone."

"Hullo, old fellow!" said Mr. Massey, patting Hopewell on the shoulder.
"Guess you feel better--heh?"

"Ye--yes. Why! that you, Massey?" ejaculated the storekeeper, in
surprise.

"'Twas me when I got up this mornin'," grunted the druggist.

"Why--why--I don't remember coming here to your store, Massey," said the
mystified Hopewell Drugg. "I--I guess I didn't feel well."

"I guess you didn't," said the d