re of Mr. Adams. The committee got over that
ignominious graduation day as well as possible. Mr. Middler did all he
could to make it a success, and he made a very nice speech to the
pupils and their parents.

The minister could not be held responsible in any particular for the
failure of the school. Of all the committee, he had had nothing to do
with Nelson Haley's resignation. As Walky Dexter said, Mr. Middler
"flocked by himself." He had little to do with the other four members
of the school committee.

"And when it comes 'lection," said Walky, dogmatically, "there's a hull
lot on us will have jest abeout as much to do with Cross Moore and
Massey and old Crawford and Joe Pellett, as Mr. Middler does.
Jefers-pelters! If they don't put nobody else up for committeemen,
I'll vote for the taown pump!"

"Ya-as, Walky," said Uncle Jason, slily. "That'd be likely, I reckon.
I hear ye air purty firmly seated on the water wagon."

CHAPTER XXVII

THE TEMPEST

Mr. Cross Moore was not a man who easily or frequently recanted before
either public or private opinion. As political "boss" of the town he
had often found himself opposed to many of his neighbors' wishes.
Neither sharp tongue nor sharp look disturbed him--apparently, at least.

Besides, Mr. Moore loved a fight "for the fight's sake," as the
expression is. He had backed Lem Parraday in applying for a liquor
license, to benefit his own pocket. It had to be a good reason indeed,
to change Mr. Moore's attitude on the liquor selling question.

The hotel barroom held great attractions for many of Cross Moore's
supporters, although Mr. Moore himself seldom stepped into that part of
the hotel. The politician did not trust Lem Parraday to represent him,
for Lem was "no wiser than the law allows," to quote his neighbors.
But Joe Bodley, the young barkeeper, imported from the city, was just
the sort of fellow Cross Moore could use.

And about this time Joe Bodley was in a position where his fingers
"itched for the feel of money." Not other people's money, but his own.
He had scraped together all he had saved, and drawn ahead on his wages,
to make up the hundred dollars paid Hopewell Drugg for the violin,
and----

"Seems ter me that old fiddle is what they call a sticker, ain't it,
'stead of a Straddlevarious?" chuckled Walky Dexter, referring to the
instrument hanging on the wall behind Joe's head.

"Oh, I'll get my money back on it," Bodley replied, w