that way?
No, they do _not_. Instead of talking like a body would think they'd
talk after all those letters and things, why, they turn and fling abuse
at me--and now--now they've gone and done _this_ hellish thing! I won't
say a word against any man, but in my opinion they're a passel of knaves
and lunatics. Look at me, Joe. Yesterday I was a made man; to-day I'm
all ruined up! I merely state facts and let you draw your own
conclusions."

The conclusions which Big Joe drew, such as they were, he was unable to
communicate intelligibly until the morrow, for the train was late and
they drank of the liquor until the Colonel had time to lament his
improvidence in bringing away so little of it. And by the time Big Joe's
report was abroad, both the _Banner_ and the _Argus_ were out. The item
in the latter concerning Mrs. Potts had been only a little altered.

"Mrs. J. Rodney Potts, wife of Colonel J. Rodney Potts, until yesterday
a resident of this town, will arrive here next Thursday from Boston,
Massachusetts, to make her home among us. She is an estimable and
cultured lady, and we bespeak for her a warm welcome to this garden-spot
of the mid-West."

Across the top of the _Banner's_ first page was its campaign slogan as
usual:--

"POTTS FOREVER! POTTS THE COMING MAN!"

Across the top of the _Argus_ in similar type ran the pregnant line:--

"POTTS FOREVER, BUT MAYNE FOR COUNTY JUDGE. THE TROUBLE WITH THE COMING
MAN IS THAT HE'S GONE!"

CHAPTER X

A LADY OF POWERS

Superficially and distantly considered, the woman from whom even J.
Rodney Potts must flee in terror would not be of a sort to excite the
imagination pleasurably. A less impulsive man than Solon Denney might
have found cause for misgiving in this circumstance of Potts's prompt
exodus. In the immediate flush of his triumph, however, the editor of
the _Argus_ had no leisure for negative reflections, and when misgiving
did at last find root in his mind, the time had come for him to receive
the lady. But Solon Denney was not the man to betray it if a doubting
heart beat within his breast. To the town that now lavished admiration
upon him, dubbing him "Boss" without ulterior implications, he was
confidence itself, and rife with prophecies of benefit to be derived by
our public from the advent of Mrs. Aurelia Potts. With a gallant show of
anticipation, a sprig of geranium in his lapel, he set out for the train
on that fateful morning, while Little Arca