by the Jo Quacca fire. Each man submitted his list rather defiantly.
They sat down and scowled while Harlan told what he had discovered in
his investigation of the circumstances.

"I have not tried to beat them down," he concluded. "I even reminded
them of a few items they had overlooked. What happened yesterday was
enough to make almost any man forget things."

He was inclined to be a little defiant, toe fighting the battles of the
property owners, even though his own pocket must suffer by the
settlement.

But the Duke preserved his unruffled demeanor. He slowly made some
figures on the bottoms of the papers and passed the sheets to his
grandson.

"Fill in the checks and bring them out here and I'll sign 'em," he
directed. And as Harlan bent over him, he whispered: "You're playing
good politics now, boy. Stand up for the under dog. I see you're
remembering that you're a candidate."

"I'm only doing what's right," protested the young man.

"When you can be right and still play politics, you're getting ahead
fast," murmured the Duke. "Fill in the checks!"

"But you've increased their own appraisal! You're giving them more than
they've asked for!" Harlan was careless of the presence of the three
farmers.