“All right, thanky',” said Pole, as he shuffled away. He marched straight to the jury-room, and, without rapping, opened the door and went in, closing the door after him. He found the men all discussing the matter and was delighted to find that the strength of the opposition now rested chiefly in Bartell and a few men who seemed afraid to pull away from him. Pole slid up to Bartell and said, as he drew him to one side: “Say, Mr. Bartell, what on earth have you got agin Alan Bishop?” “Why, nothin', Pole, as I know of,” said Bartell, rather sheepishly. “Nothin' as I know of.” “Well, it looks to me like you got a mighty pore way o' showin' good-will. Why, he's the best friend you got, Mr. Bartell, an' totes more votes in his vest-pocket fer you than any man in this county.” “Huh! You don't say!” grunted Bartell, in slow surprise. “Well, he never told _me_ about it.” “Beca'se you hain't announced yorese'f yet,” said Pole, with a steady eye and a set face. “Why, he said t'other day to several of us at the log-rollin'--you remember you rid by on yore bay, leadin' a milch-cow by a rope. Well, after you passed Alan Bishop said: 'Boys, thar goes the only man in this county that has convictions an' the courage to stand by 'em. They say he's goin' to run fer the legislature an' ef he does, I 'll do all I kin to elect 'im. He 'll make the best representative that we ever had. He's got brains, _he_ has.'” “You don't say!” Bartell's face beamed, his eye kindled and flashed. “That's jest what!” “I hadn't the least idea he was fer me,” said Bartell, drawing a deep breath. “In fact, I 'lowed he would be agin anybody but a town man.” “Alan never talks much,” said Pole, in a tone of conviction; “he _acts_ when the time comes fer it. But, la me, Mr. Bartell, this is agoin' to break him all to pieces. He's in love with old Barclay's gal, an' she is with him. Ef he puts this road through to-day he 'll git his daddy out o' debt an' Barclay will withdraw his opposition. I don't know how you feel, but I'd hate like smoke to bu'st a man all to flinders that thought as much o' me as Alan does o' you.” “I never knowed he was fer me,” was Bartell's next tottering step in the right direction. “Well, vote fer the right o' way, an' you kin ride to an' from Atlanta durin' session all rail. Me'n Alan will pull fer you like a yoke o' steers--me with the moonshiners, an' my mountain clan, that ain't dead yet, an' him with his gang. What you say? Put up or shet up.” “I 'll do what I kin,” said Bartell, a new light on his face, as he turned to the others. “Gentlemen,” he began, “listen to me a minute. I see a good many of you was affected by Ab Daniel's speech an' sort o' want the road, anyway, so if--”