lar snug in the palm of his hand. And Kirke and I, without a
word, began patiently carrying the bottles to the buggy. Again and
again we returned to the clump of weeds, counting the bottles as we
carried them out,--a hundred and fifty of them, even.

"Then we got into the buggy, feet outside, for the bed of the buggy was
filled and piled high, covered with the robe to discourage prying eyes,
and turned the little brown mare toward town.

"'Connie, would you seriously object to kissing me just once? I feel
the need of it this minute,--moral stimulus, you know.'

"'Ministers' daughters have to be very, very careful,' I told him in an
even voice.

"We were both silent then as we drove into town. When he pulled up in
front of the house he looked me straight in the face, and he uses his
eyes effectively.

"'You are a darling,' he said.

"I said 'Thanks,' and went into the house.

"He told me next morning what happened that evening. Of course he was
there to witness Matters' discomfiture. He did not put in appearance
until the sheriff and his friend were climbing anxiously and sadly into
the light wagon to return home empty-handed. Then he sauntered from
behind a hedge and lifted his hat in his usual debonair manner.

"'By the way, Mr. Sheriff,' he began in a quiet, ingratiating voice, 'I
hope I am not to be called as a witness in that boot-legging case.'

"Matters snarled at him. 'Pooh,' he said angrily, 'you can't blackmail
me like that. You can't prove anything on me. I reckon the people
around here will take the word of the sheriff of their county against
the booze fightin' son of a Methodist preacher.'

"Kirke waved his hand airily. 'Far be it from me to enter into any
defense of my father's son. But a hundred and fifty bottles are pretty
good evidence. And speaking of witnesses, I have a hunch that the
people of this county will fall pretty hard for anything that comes
from the lips of the baby daughter of the district superintendent of
the Methodist Church.'

"Matters hunched forward in his seat. 'Connie Starr,' he said, in a
hollow voice.

"Kirke swished the weeds with his cane,--he has all those graceful
affectations.

"Matters swallowed a few times. 'Old man Starr is too smart a man to
get his family mixed up in politics,' he finally brought out.

"'Baby Con is of age, I think,' said Kirke lightly. 'And she is very
advanced, you know, something of a reformer, has all kinds of
emanci