that made the protesting chorus seem only a feeble chirp. And then the
caucus adjourned tumultuously.

Through it all Thelismer Thornton stood with shoulders against the
boarding, that quizzical half-smile on his face. He walked out of the
hall past the outraged Ivus Niles without losing that smile, though the
demagogue followed him to the door with frantic threats and taunts.

The meeting-house bell still chattered its alarm, an excited ringer
rolling the wheel over and over.

Chairman Presson, who had found speech inadequate for some time,
followed the Duke to the stairway outside, and stood beside him, gazing
up at the conflagration. Smoke masked the hills. Fire-flashes, pallid in
the afternoon light, shot up here and there in the yellow billows
rolling nearest the ground.

"I tell you, Thelismer, you'll never get across with this! It's too
devilish rank!"

Elder Dudley marched past, leading the last stragglers of his following
from the hall. His face was flushed with passion, but he had neither
word nor look for the Duke. Even Niles was silent, bringing up the rear
of the retreat, pumped dry of invective.

"You'll be up against Dudley, there, at the polls, running on an
independent ticket. He's sure to do it!" went on Presson, watching them
out of sight.

"You don't know the district," said Thornton, serenely. "And what's more