were Mike Prim, Selah. It's scandalous!"

* * * * *

It was Saturday afternoon, two days since the funeral and two days since
Mike Prim bent listening with such furious excitement at the keyhole of
Judge Regis's office. Jordantown had become the stage upon which a
mystery play was being enacted with all the farcical features of a
comedy. Every man, especially, was doing exactly what he would have done
and said if there had been footlights and an audience in front, only not
one of them knew that this was so. Providence is the Great Dramatist,
and secures perfectly natural effects by providing emergencies which
call for action, and by keeping every man under the delusion that he
chooses his own role.

The suspense concerning the disposition of the Mosely Estate was only
partially balanced by the confounded indignation of many citizens who
came and went from Mike Prim's office.

"Sent for you again, too?" exclaimed Coleman when he met Acres as he
descended the stairs.

"Yes, what's the matter?" asked Acres anxiously.

"You'll find out when you get up there. He's as mad as a rhinoceros
horning sand in a desert."

"But what does he want?" Acres insisted.

"Wants you to double your subscription to the campaign fund. Better not
go up if you can't do it. He got me for a cool hundred."

"What's he in such a hurry for? The campaign doesn't begin for months
yet!"

"He says it's on, began two days ago. Says the liberty of every man in
this county is at stake. Says he needs a fund of four times as much as
usual to meet the situation," answered Coleman.

"What's he doing with it?"

"Can't tell you; not a cent of it is deposited in the bank."

"Well, I know he has taken in over a thousand dollars in the last two
days."

"It's no time to collect now with everybody in suspense over this Mosely
will," groaned Coleman.

"I'll be hanged if it doesn't look like blackmail to me!" exclaimed
Acres.

"Why submit, then?" demanded Coleman with a grin.

"You know we are all in too deep with Prim. You submitted, didn't you?"

"Yes, and you will, too, when you see him. He's got conviction in his
manner and compulsion in his tongue," said Coleman as Acres passed him
upon the stairs.

"Mabel, my boy, can you lend me fifty dollars?"

Acres beheld Colonel Adams standing in the deep shadows at the top of
the stairs. He wore a yellow seersucker coat, brown linen trousers,
carpet slippers, with the