"I am afraid," I answered, with a wholly wasted sarcasm, "that the affair has gone too far now for us to consider an alteration in the date." "Well, well! We must try not to clash," Mr. Bundercombe said magnanimously. "How long does the voting go on?" "From eight until eight," I told him. Mr. Bundercombe was thoughtful. "It's a long time to hold them!" he murmured. "To hold whom?" I demanded. Mr. Bundercombe started slightly. "Nothing! Nothing! By the by, do you know a chap called Jonas--Henry Jonas, of Milton Farm?" "I should think I do!" I groaned. "He's the backbone of the Opposition, the best speaker they've got and the most popular man." Mr. Bundercombe smiled sweetly. "Is that so!" he observed. "Well, well! He is a very intelligent man. I trust I'll be able to persuade him that any reaper he may be using at the present moment is a jay compared to Bundercombe's--this season's model!" "I trust you may," I answered, a trifle tartly. "I am glad you're likely to do a little business; but you won't mind, my reminding you--will you?-- that you really came down here to give me a leg up with my election, and not to sell your machines or to spend half your time in the enemy's camp!" Mr. Bundercombe smiled. It was a curious smile, which seemed somehow to lose itself in his face. Then the dinner gong sounded and he winked at me slowly. Again I was conscious of some slight uneasiness. It began to dawn upon me that there was a scheme somewhere hatching; that Mr. Bundercombe's activity in the camp of the enemy might perhaps have an unsuspected significance. I talked to Eve about this after dinner; but she reassured me. "Father talks of nothing but his reaping machines," she declared. "Besides, I am quite sure he would do nothing indiscreet. Only yesterday I found him studying a copy of the act referring to bribery and corruption. Dad's pretty smart, you know!" "I do know that," I admitted. "I wish I knew what he was up to, though." The next day was the last before the election. The little market of Bildborough was in a state of considerable excitement. Several open-air meetings were held toward evening. Eve and I, returning from a motor tour of the constituency, called at the office of my agent. We chatted with Mr. Ansell for a little while and then he pointed across the square. "There's an American there," he said, "that the other side seems to have got hold of. He's their most popular speaker by a long way; but I gather they're a little uneasy about him. Didn't I have the pleasure of meeting him at your house?" "Mr. Bundercombe!" I sighed. "He came down here to help me!" Mr. Ansell put on his hat and beckoned mysteriously. "Come out by the back way," he invited. "We shall hear him. He is going to speak from the little platform there."