o run out an' vote ag'in the men the first chance they git.
When this war's over an' there ain't no able-bodied men left to run
things, then you bet the women will be derned glad we fixed things so's
_they_ won't never have to worry about goin' to war with the
ding-blasted ravishers over in Germany. If the time ever comes--an' it
may, if they keep killin' us off over there--when the women have to run
this here government, they'll find it's a man-sized job, an' that we
took care of it mighty well up to the time we got all shot to pieces
preservin' humanity, an' civilization, an' all the women an' children
the Germans didn't git a chance to butcher because we wouldn't let 'em.
Now, I'm ready any time to knuckle under to a man that's better'n I am.
But I'm dog-goned if I'm willin' to admit that Minnie Stitzenberg's that
man! Yes, sir, gentlemen, we men have got to stand together!"

"'Sh!" hissed Mort Fryback, jerking his head in the direction of Main
Street. With one accord the men on the porch turned to look.

Miss Minnie Stitzenberg had come into view on the opposite side of the
street, and was striding manfully in their direction. The Higgins dog
trotted proudly, confidently, a few feet ahead of her. She waved a
friendly hand and called out, in a genial but ludicrous effort to mimic
the lordly Mr. Crow:

"Move on there, now. Don't loiter."

A little later, the agitated town marshal, flanked by the town drunkard
and the one-legged Mr. Fryback, viewed with no little dismay a group of
women congregated in front of Parr's drygoods store. In the centre of
this group was the new candidate for town marshal. Alf Reesling stopped
short and said something under his breath. His wife was one of Miss
Stitzenberg's most attentive listeners.

[Illustration: _In the centre of this group was the new candidate for
town marshal_]

Marshal Crow was not disheartened. He knew that Minnie Stitzenberg could
not defeat him at the polls. The thing that rankled was the fact that a
woman had been selected to run against him. It was an offence to his
dignity. The leaders of the People's Party made it quite plain that they
did not consider him of sufficient importance to justify anything so
dignified as masculine opposition!

On the day of the Republican Convention, which was to be held in the
town hall in the evening, Anderson went in despair and humility to Harry
Squires, the reporter.

"Harry," he said, "I been thinkin' it over. I can't