Boone was there, too, and when that speech ended he meant to take his
place where his rival now stood, and to give back blow for blow. At
first Jim Blair addressed himself to the merits of his own candidacy,
but gradually he swung into criticism of his opponent, while the
opponent himself listened with an amused smile.

"Ther feller that's runnin' erginst me," confessed the orator, "kin talk
ter ye in finer phrases then I kin ever contrive ter git my tongue
around. I reckon when he steps up hyar he'll kinderly dazzle ye with
his almighty gift of speech. I've spent my days right hyar amongst ye in
slavish toil--like ther balance of you boys--hev done. My breeches air
patched--like some o' yourn be. He's done been off ter college, l'arnin'
all manner of fotched-on lore. He's done been consortin' with ther kind
of folks thet don't think no lavish good of us. He's done been gettin'
every sort of notion savin' them notions thet's come down in our blood
from our fore-parents--but when he gits through spell-bindin' I wants ye
all ter remember jest one thing: I'll be plumb satisfied if I gits ther
vote of every man thet w'ars a raggedy shirt tail and hes a patch on the
seat of his pants. _He's_ right welcome ter ther balance."

Boone joined in the salvo of laughter that went up at that sally, but
the mirth died suddenly from his face the next moment, for the applause
had gone to Blair's head like liquor and fired him to a more philippic
vein of oratory.

"I reckon I might counsel this young feller ter heed ther words of
Scripture an' 'tarry a while in Jericho fer his beard ter grow.' Mebby
by thet day an' time he mout l'arn more loyalty fer ther men--yea, an'
fer ther _women_, too--of his own blood and breed!"

Once more the red spots swam before Boone Wellver's eyes, but for a
hard-held moment he kept his lips tight drawn. There was a tense silence
as men held their breath, waiting to see if the old Gregory spirit had
become so tamed as to endure in silence that damning implication; but
before Blair had begun again Boone was confronting him with dangerously
narrow eyes, and their faces inches apart.

Blair was a short, powerfully built man with sandy hair and a red jowl
swelling from a bull-like neck. Standing on the step below, Boone's eyes
were level with his own.

"Either tell these men what you mean," commanded the younger candidate
in a voice that carried its ominous level to the farthest fringe of the
small crowd,