it's going to be an honest one. I'll go before the people of this city
and promise them to enforce law and order, but I'll not _buy_ a vote of a
man of them. That I mean, and I hereby hand it out to you two
representatives of the press. From now on 'not a dollar spent' is the
word and I'm back of it to make it go." As he spoke, Kildare turned to
Phoebe and looked at her as man to man with nothing in his voice but the
cool note of determination. It was a cold dash for Phoebe but the
reaction brought hot pride to her eyes.

"Yes, David," she answered, "you can and you will."

The determination in her voice matched that in his, and her eyes met his
with a glance in which lay a new expression--not the old tolerant
affection nor the guarded defense, but one with a quality of comradeship
that steadied every nerve in his body. Some men get the like from some
women--but not often.

"They will empty their pockets to fight you," the major continued
thoughtfully. "But there is a deal of latent honesty in human nature,
after all, that will answer the right appeal by the right man. A man
calls a man; and ask a crook to come in on the straight proposition, two
to one he'll step over the line before he stops himself. This is an
independent candidacy--let's ask them all in, without reference to age,
color or 'previous condition of servitude'--in the broadest sense."

"Yes, and with the other construction, too, perhaps. We'll ask in the
darks--but they won't come. They'll vote with the jug crowd every time.
No nig votes for Dave without the dollar and the small bottle. How many
do they poll, anyway, do you suppose?"