dn't expected to be met. Good old
Wetherby!" said Jimmy, climbing into the rear seat of the sleigh and
pulling a comfortable lap robe around his legs. A ripping team of bays,
sturdy, and eager to be off, fully occupied the driver's attention. The
sleigh bells sang a tune to thrill the blood. The steam from the horses'
nostrils blew out in regular spurts, ending in rhythmic and quickly
dissipating clouds. Jimmy Gollop enjoyed it all, and was glad he had
come. He leaned back and admired the road that stretched for a mile and
a half between the railway station and town.

"Some town!" commented Jimmy with enthusiasm born of delight in
admiration for clean, well kept, modern houses. "And--Hello!--Pretty
good little stores, too. And there's certain to be a town square. Whole
town looks on it of course. Always that way in county seats. Square,
court house in the middle, lot of trees. Hitching posts, maybe, with a
chain around the square. Lot of farmer's teams tied there. Some place,
all right!"

And his predictions were not far wrong, as was proven when the horses
came jingling out into the streets facing the square, the court house,
and the teams tied to the hitching posts. There were many of them, the
horses blanketed and unblanketed, drowsing where they stood. There were
stores and shops with a few pedestrians moving about their business--a
sleepy panorama of winter life in a nice, clean, comfortable little
town.

The sleigh halted with a flourish in front of the court house steps and
two men rushed out as if astonished, then hastened to solicitously
welcome Jimmy, who was somewhat puzzled by their demeanor.

"Mighty glad to see you, Judge!" declared the one who first clutched his
hand. "They told us down at the station that the railroad up to
Princetown from Media City was completely blocked. So we had given you
up. But you can see how interested in what you have to say the folks
around Yimville are when you get inside. Yes siree! Got the court house
full. Seems as if we had every farmer from forty miles around here,
and----" he stopped and chuckled loudly--"every farmer's wife and every
spinster! The women are certainly mighty anxious to know how you stand
on votes for 'em! Talk about home industries for the men, and the usual
bunk about protective tariff, but--go easy about national votes for
women, Judge!--Go easy. The men folks don't want it and they dassn't say
so for fear they'll get hit over the head with a maul