the Duke, serenely. He lighted another cigar, beaming through the smoke
on the glowering minister.

"Don't take that wrong, elder. I respect decency in politics. I respect
men who are trying to clean things up. But before I'll let you disinfect
_me_, I'll have to see your license and know what system you're using."

"You've got to fight the devil with fire!" roared the War Eagle.

"You mustn't steal my own plan of campaigning, Ivus. I've got a
copyright on that."

He had been studying the situation there outside the town hall while he
talked. Two men from the shire town, wearing the nickel badges of deputy
sheriffs, stood at the foot of the stairs. A group of men that he knew
to be his loyal supporters from his own village were standing at one
side. He strolled over to them.

"Squire Thornton," said one, "we're barred out of this caucus. They
won't let us up."

And still their leader was imperturbable. He turned inquiring gaze on
the Reverend Dudley, and that gentleman declared himself with suspicious
haste.

"This is going to be a strictly Republican caucus, and the check-list
has been marked," he said. "We don't propose to have Democrats come in
and run our affairs for us."

It was a challenge thrown down in good earnest.