"that after this the
two of us can't stay in this office."

Boone nodded. "I know, too, that I've got to get out. You're his son,
but"--his voice leaped--"but I know that having held myself in this long
I can last a little longer. You're too sanctified for politics and dirty
work like that. But your father's in it--and until this election is over
I'm going to stay right with him--I'm going to do it because he's in
actual danger. After that I'll quit--I'm not afraid of cooling off too
much in the meantime, are you?"

"By God, NO!"

CHAPTER XXVII

Boone rose by gas-light the next morning and from the bureau of his hall
bedroom, after removing a slender pile of shirts and underwear, he
extracted a heavy-calibred revolver in a battered holster of the
mountain type--the kind that fits under the left armpit, supported by a
shoulder strap.

He took the thing out of its case and scrupulously examined into the
smoothness of its working after long disuse, debating the while whether
to take it or leave it. He knew that though the "pure in heart"--as an
administration speaker had humorously characterized the myrmidons of the
city hall--might, with impunity, carry--and even use--concealed weapons,
he and his like need expect no leniency in the courts for similar
conduct. The advice at headquarters had been emphatic on that point:
"Keep well within the law. There may be court sequels."

But Boone meant to be Colonel Wallifarro's bodyguard that day. He felt
designated and made responsible for the Colonel's safety by Anne, and he
knew that before nightfall contingencies might arise which would
overshadow lesser and technical considerations. So he strapped the
holster under his waistcoat, and went out into the autumn morning, which
was gray and still save for the rumbling of occasional milk wagons.

At Fusion headquarters few others had yet arrived, but shortly he was
joined by Colonel Wallifarro and General Prince, and within the hour the
barren suite of rooms was close thronged and thick with the smoke of
many cigars. Telephones were ajingle, and outside in the street a dozen
motors were parked.

Nor was there any suspense of long waiting before events broke into
racing stride, as a field of horses breaks from the upflung barrier.

From a half dozen sources came hurried complaints of flagrant violations
and of police violence or police blindness.

When the polling places had been open an hour the wires grew feveris