rth
country, present to listen.

"I'm not ashamed of my platform. I'm willing to promulgate it. For I'm
going to stand behind it. It ain't a platform fixed up in a back room of
this hotel the night before convention, sprung at the last minute, and
worded so that it reads the same backward and forward, and doesn't mean
any more than whistling a tune! What kind of a system is it that taxes
the poor man's family dog, the friend of his children, a dollar, and
lets the rich man's wild lands off with two mills on a valuation screwed
down to pinhead size?"

Applause that indicated that the bystanders owned dogs!

"If you're hunting for something to tax, pick out bachelors instead of
dogs. Dogs can't earn money. Bachelors can. There are forty thousand old
maids and widows in this State who can't find husbands. Tax the
bachelors. Give the single women a pension. Hunt out the tax-dodgers.
There are things enough to tax instead of the farms and cottages of the
poor men."

He now fixed the Duke with his gaze.

"You don't dare to deny, do you, that the system in this State is
screwing the last cent out of the exposed property and letting the
dodgers go free? Tax the necessities of the poor, say you! I say, tax
the luxuries of the rich!"

"In some countries, I believe, they get quite a revenue by taxing
mustaches," stated the Duke, thus appealed to.

Spinney indignantly broke in on the laughter.

"You've carried off oppression so far as a joke, but you can't do it any
longer, Squire Thornton. The people are awake this time. They've got
done electing lawyers and dudes and land-grabbers for Governors. They're
going to have a Governor that will make State officials work for fair
day's wages, as the farmers and artisans work. No more high-salaried
loafers in public office! No more dynasties, Sir Duke of Fort Canibas!
You'll be having a coat of arms next!"

This last was said in rude jest--the public horseplay of a man anxious
to win his laugh at any cost.

"I've got a coat of arms, Arba; I won the decoration when I retired from
hard work at the age of fifty. That was about the time you were starting
in life by selling fake mining stock around this State. My coat of arms
is two patches on a homespun background, surrounded by looped galluses.
And I can show you the mile of stone walls I built before you were
born."

Spinney did not relish the merriment which followed that sally.

"You've outgrown that coat of arms, then, in