Colonel Royall laughed. “Maybe it is,” he admitted, “anyway I’m not proud of my own party out here. I’m willing to stand by my colors, but I’m usually heartily ashamed of the color bearer. It’s not so much the color of one’s political coat as the lining of one’s political pockets. I wish I had Abe Lincoln’s simple faith. What we need now is a man who isn’t afraid to speak the truth; he’d loom up like Saul among the prophets.” “Again let me suggest the shopkeeper at the Cross-Roads,” said Jacob Eaton. Colonel Royall smiled sadly. “Why not?” he said. “Lincoln was a barefoot boy. Why not Caleb Trench? Since he’s honest over little things, he might be over great things.” “Is he a Democrat?” Jacob asked suavely. “On my word, I don’t know,” replied Colonel Royall. “He’s in Judge Hollis’ office reading law, so William Cheyney told me.” “That old busybody!” Jacob struck the ashes from his cigarette viciously. “Hush!” said Diana, “treason! Don’t you say a word against Dr. Cheyney. I’ve loved him these many years.” “A safe sentiment,” said Jacob. “I’m content to be his rival. Alas, if he were the only one!” “What did you say Caleb Trench was doing in the judge’s office, pa?” Diana asked, ignoring her cousin. “Reading law, my dear,” the colonel answered. “I thought he was a poor shopkeeper,” objected Mrs. Eaton. “So he is, Jinny,” said the colonel; “but he’s reading law at night. It’s all mightily to his credit.” “He’s altogether too clever, then,” said Mrs. Eaton firmly; “it is just as I said, he’s an anarchist!” “Dear me, let’s talk of some one else,” Diana protested. “The man must have hoodooed us; we’ve discussed nothing else since he left.”