he innocent people of the town had not sufficient experience to
interpret. He never started forth without looking both ways. He never
walked any distance without looking back over his shoulder.

"That's Mike now!" exclaimed Acres. "Not a dollar in his pocket, and he
owns this town."

"Yes, he has got dollars in his pocket, plenty of 'em. He's been
collecting for the campaign fund this afternoon--quarterage you know!"
sneered Coleman, who had just paid his.

"Aims to be the next mayor, doesn't he?"

"No, worse than that: he's going to be representative from this county
in the next legislature!"

"Bob Sasnett will have something to say about that. He told me to-day he
might run. That means he will."

"Well, he hasn't got anything else to do. He's the only man in town who
is independent of Mike. He can furnish his own campaign fund. Good
night!" said Coleman, determined to be gone this time.

"Wonder what's the matter with Coleman," muttered Acres, hurrying to
meet Carter, the editor of the _Signal_, only to see him vanish into the
drugstore. "Wonder what's the matter with everybody. Hello, Colonel
Adams, that you?"

"Yesh, it's me, Mabel; whatcher want," answered the Colonel, bracing
himself against the courthouse. He always called Acres "Mabel," after
his wife.

"Well, how do you feel--pretty good?" said the little gossip, grinning
up in the old red face.

"No, shur! I do not. I feel like a child on a cold night wish all the
bedclothes pulled off me--thatsh how I feel. How do you feel?"

"Same here, Colonel!"

[Illustration: "'_I want to ash you a delicate question--where ish the
ladies? I 'aven't sheen a woman in four hours_'"]

"Mabel, me boy," whispered the old man, swaying gently as he attempted
to fix his eyes upon the other's face, "I want to ash you a delicate
question: where ish the ladies? I haven't sheen a woman in four hours,
Mabel! Think of that and in a town full of the pretties' women in thish
state. What does it mean? Thash what I want to ash you. I'm famished,
I'm thirshty, for the shight of a pretty face!"

"That's so," said Acres; "what does it mean? Hadn't thought of it
before, but----"

"Oh, my God! what would thish world be without the ladies, Mabel! If we
wish 'em like thish in four hours, how could we live wishout 'em
forever! We could not, shur!" He began to weep, a poor old man of the
past, standing in the twilight of the village street, looking up and
down like a lost child c