voted for you so you
wouldn't be without support. Each wanted you to have just one vote. Nobody
wanted you elected. They were all surprised. You know that!"

"They stood by and saw the contract signed," said Jim, "and--yes, Jennie,
I _am_ dealing in sophistry! I got the school by a sort of shell-game,
which the board worked on themselves. But that doesn't prove that the
district is against me. I believe the people are for me, now, Jennie. I
really do!"

Jennie rose and walked to the rear of the room and back, twice. When she
spoke, there was decision in her tone--and Jim felt that it was hostile
decision.

"As an officer," she said rather grandly, "my relations with the district
are with the school board on the one hand, and with your competency as a
teacher on the other."

"Has it come to that?" asked Jim. "Well, I have rather expected it."

His tone was weary. The Lincolnian droop in his great, sad, mournful mouth
accentuated the resemblance to the martyr president. Possibly his feelings
were not entirely different from those experienced by Lincoln at some
crises of doubt, misunderstanding and depression.

"If you can't change your methods," said Jennie, "I suggest that you
resign."

"Do you think," said Jim, "that changing my methods would appease the men
who feel that they are made laughing-stocks by having elected me?"

Jennie was silent; for she knew that the school board meant to pursue
their policy of getting rid of the accidental incumbent regardless of his
methods.

"They would never call off their dogs," said Jim.

"But your methods would make a great difference with my decision," said
Jennie.

"Are you to be called upon to decide?" asked Jim.

"A formal complaint against you for incompetency," she replied, "has been
lodged in my office, signed by the three directors. I shall be obliged to
take notice of it."

"And do you think," queried Jim, "that my abandonment of the things in
which I believe in the face of this attack would prove to your mind that I
am competent? Or would it show me incompetent?"

Again Jennie was silent.

"I guess," said Jim, "that we'll have to stand or fall on things as they
are."

"Do you refuse to resign?" asked Jennie.

"Sometimes I think it's not worth while to try any longer," said Jim. "And
yet, I believe that in my way I'm working on the question which must be
solved if this nation is to stand--the question of making the farm and
farm life what they shoul