"Who's going to jump?"

"High Sheriff Niles and his posse. They ain't more'n ten rods behind,
jigger wagon and all."

The Duke of Fort Canibas stared a moment at the herald. Aunt Charette
raised her eyes to her protector with the air of one secure under the
wings of a patron saint, and went on knitting.

"Gad!" hissed the State chairman. "They certainly do mean you this time,
Thelismer! Discrediting your pull in county politics an hour before your
caucus! Some one is showing brains!"

Thornton did not answer.

"How in blazes have they pulled over the sheriff?" demanded Presson. But
the old man merely stared at the door.

High Sheriff Niles entered at that moment. He stood on the threshold and
scowled. He was a stocky man, who had been a butcher. His face was
blotched by ruddiness resembling that of raw meat. Behind his cockaded
silk hat pressed the faces of his aids. The little yard was filled with
men who peered in at the windows. A big truck wagon was creaking as its
horses backed it to the door.

"What are you after here, Niles?" demanded Thornton. "After this stock
of rum."

The Duke took another swing across the room, licked his lips, and set