eet again after that--that--"

The young woman's emotion overcame her at this point. Again her
relentless fingers stung the blameless mechanism--"to come to the aid of
the party. Now is the time for all good--" She here controlled herself
to further speech. "And _you!_ Of course you applaud him for it. Oh, I
knew you were all alike!"

"Now look here, Betty, this thing has gone far enough----"

"Far enough, indeed!"

"But you won't give me a chance!"

Mr. Evans here bent above his employee in a threatening manner.

"You don't even ask what I think about it. You say I'm guilty and ought
to be shot without a trial--not even waiting till sunrise. If you had
the least bit of fairness in your heart you'd have asked me what I
really thought about this outbreak of George's, and I'd have told you in
so many words that I think he's made all kinds of a fool of himself."

"No! Do you really, Pen?"

Miss Sheridan had swiftly become human. She allowed her eyes to meet
those of Mr. Evans' with an easy gladness but little known to him of
late. "Of course I do, Betty. The idea of a candidate for office in this
enlightened age breaking loose in that manner! It's suicide. He could be
arrested for the attempt in this State. Is that strong enough for you?
You surely know how I feel now, don't you? Come on, Betty dear! Let's
not spar in that foolish way any longer. Remember all I said yesterday.
It goes double today--really, I see things more clearly."

Plainly Miss Sheridan was disarmed.

"And I thought you'd approve every word of his silly tirade," she
murmured. Mr. Evans, still above her, was perilously shaken by the
softer note in her voice, but he controlled himself in time and sat
in one of the chairs reserved for waiting clients. It was near Miss
Sheridan, yet beyond reaching distance. He felt that he must be cool in
this moment of impending triumph.

"Wasn't it the awfullest rot?" demanded the spinster, pounding out a row
of periods for emphasis.

"And he's got to be made to eat his words," said Mr. Evans, wisely
taking the same by-path away from the one subject in all the world that
really mattered.

"Who could make him?"

"I could, if I tried." It came in quiet, masterful tones that almost
convinced the speaker himself.

"Oh, Pen, if you could! Wouldn't that be a victory, though? If you only
could----"

"Well, if I only could--and if I do?" His intention was too pointed to
be ignored.

"Oh, _that_!" He winced