charging that the UN Police troops
in Victorian Kenya were "tools of Yankee aggressionists," Americans
smiled grimly and said, in effect: "Just wait 'til Cannon gets
in--_he'll_ show 'em."

Election Day came with the inevitability of death and taxes. The polling
booths opened first on the East Coast, and people began filing in to
take their turns at the machines. By the time the polls opened in Nome,
Alaska, six hours later, the trend was obvious. All but two of the New
England states were strongly for Cannon. New York, Pennsylvania, New
Jersey, West Virginia, and Ohio dropped into his pocket like ripe
apples. Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, and Florida
did the same. Alabama wavered at first, but tagged weakly along.
Tennessee, Kentucky, Indiana, and Michigan trooped in like trained
seals.

In Mississippi, things looked bad. Arkansas and Louisiana were
uncertain. But the pro-Cannon vote in Missouri, Illinois, Iowa,
Wisconsin, and Minnesota left no doubt about the outcome in those
states. North Dakota, South Dakota, Nebraska, Kansas, Oklahoma,
Texas--all Cannon by vast majorities.

And so the returns came in, following the sun across the continent. By
the time California had reported three-fourths of its votes, it was all
over but the jubilation. Nothing but an honest-to-God, genuine,
Joshua-stopping-the-sun type of miracle could have saved the opposition.
And such was not forthcoming.

* * * * *

At Cannon's campaign headquarters, a television screen was blaring to
unhearing ears, merely adding to the din that was going on in the
meeting hall. The party workhorses and the volunteers who had drummed
for Cannon since the convention were repeating the scene that had taken
place after Cannon's nomination in the summer, with an even greater note
of triumph.

In Cannon's suite, six floors above, there was less noise, but only
because there were fewer people.

"Hey!" Cannon yelled good-naturedly. "Lay off! Any more slaps on my
back, and I'm going to be the first President since Franklin Roosevelt
to go to my Inauguration in a wheelchair! Lay off, will you?"

"A drink, a drink, we got to have a drink," chanted Representative Edwin
Matson, his bulldog face spread wide in a happy grin while he did things
with bottles, ice, and glasses. "A drink, a drink--"

Governor Harold Spanding's lantern-jawed face looked as idiotically
happy as Matson's, but he was quieter about