belonged, and forced the convention to declare for a reform
platform and to nominate a clean ticket composed of men of
character.

Jeff agreed. "I think we're going to win. The people are with us.
The _World_ is booming." It's the advertising troubles me. Frome
and Merrill have got at the big stores and they won't come in with
any space worth mentioning."

"Damn the big advertisers," exploded Chunn. "I've got two million
cold and I'm going to see this thing out, son. That's what I told
Frome last week when he had the nerve to have me nominated to the
Verden Club. Wanted to muzzle me. Be a good fellow and quit
agitating. That was the idea. I sent back word I'd stuck by Lee to
Appomattox and I reckoned I was too old a dog to learn the new
trick of deserting my flag."

"If you're satisfied I ought to be," Jeff laughed. "As for the
advertising, the stores will come back soon. The managers all want
to take space, but they are afraid of spoiling their credit at the
banks while conditions are so unsettled."

"Oh, well. We'll stick to our guns. You fire'em and I'll supply
the ammunition." The little man put his hand on Jeff's shoulder
with a chuckle. "We're both rebels--both irreconcilables, son. I
reckon we're going to be well hated before we get through with
this fight."

"Yes. They're going about making people believe we're cranks and
agitators who are hurting business for our own selfish ends."