uth about
Paul Trent--she's married to him."

In a flash the house had grasped the idea.

"We want the Governor's lady! We want the Governor's lady!" they
chanted. The place was a roar of sound. Bob's heart clamped tight with
terror. She turned a white face to the chairman, who stood with raised
hand, trying to quiet them. It was like pushing back the waves of the
sea, the sound surged higher and more tempestuous. Into Bob's atrophied
mind pierced the thought that this was her chance to help Paul, that
she could play her own popularity to forward his cause, if she had the
nerve.

She had never made a speech in her life. She was trained in an art which
makes no extemporaneous demand on the artist. Everything is set,
prepared for, rehearsed. This all made the background of her mind, as
she rose and nodded to the astonished chairman. Then as she walked to
the speaker's desk and faced them, her fear fell away. There were the
same old adoring faces she was used to. They were just human beings, not
a jury to try her. She waived the chairman aside, when he tried in vain
to introduce her. The crowd indulged in what might be termed "a mob
fit."

They yelled, deepening waves of sound; they stood up and waved
handbills, with a crackling like flames; they stomped with their boots
and whistled on their fingers. Bob watched and listened a moment, then
her clear laugh rang out above the roar. She held up her hand and
absolute quiet fell on them, as if a lid had been shut down on a
bubbling pot.

"Boys and girls, do be still!" called Bob. "I can't talk to a Roman mob
like you, unless you're quiet. I'm scared to death as it is. I never
made a speech before, and maybe I'm not going to make one now!

"I've been to political meetings before. I'm Irish, so that goes without
saying. My father used to say that if I'd been a man I'd have been a
policeman. Ye know they call me Bob, son av Battle."

"I bet you would, too. I'd vote for ye! Maybe you suffragettes will make
it yet," the crowd interrupted her.

"Are you making this speech or am I?" she called to them.

"Shut up! Let her alone! Tell us what kind of a guy Trent is!" they
called.

"What I started to say, when I was so rudely interrupted, was this: I'm
more interested in this political meeting than any I ever went to,
because I'm more interested in the candidate for governor, and I want
every man in this audience to vote for Paul Trent to-morrow on my say
so."

They expr