"I suppose we ought to consult Mr. Blake," said Kennedy. "He's not in town," returned Bruce. "And we don't need to consult him. We three are a majority of the committee. The matter has to be settled at once. And it's settled all right!" The editor jerked out his watch, glanced at it, then reached for his hat. "I'll have this on the street in an hour--and if this town doesn't go wild, then I don't know Westville!" He was making for the door, when the newspaper man in him recalled a new detail of his story. He turned back. "How about this daughter of Doctor West?" he asked. The prosecutor looked at the minister. "Was she coming home for the celebration, do you know?" "Yes. She wrote Mrs. Sherman she was leaving New York this morning and would get in here to-morrow on the Limited." "What's she like?" asked Bruce. "Haven't you seen her?" asked Kennedy. "She hasn't been home since I came back to Westville. When I left here she was a tomboy--mostly legs and freckles." The prosecutor's lean face crinkled with a smile. "I guess you'll find she's grown right smart since then. She went to one of those colleges back East; Vassar, I think it was. She got hold of some of those new-fangled ideas the women in the East are crazy over now--about going out in the world for themselves, and----" "Idiots--all of them!" snapped Bruce. "After she graduated, she studied law. When she was back home two years ago she asked me what chance a woman would have to practise law in Westville. A woman lawyer in Westville--oh, Lord!" The prosecutor leaned back and laughed at the excruciating humour of the idea. "Oh, I know the kind!" Bruce's lips curled with contempt. "Loud-voiced--aggressive--bony--perfect frights." "Let me suggest," put in Doctor Sherman, "that Miss West does not belong in that classification." "Yes, I guess you're a little wrong about Katherine West," smiled Kennedy. Bruce waved his hand peremptorily. "They're all the same! But what's she doing in New York? Practising law?" "No. She's working for an organization something like Doctor Sherman's--The Municipal League, I think she called it." "Huh!" grunted Bruce. "Well, whatever she's like, it's a pretty mess she's coming back into!" With that the editor pulled his hat tightly down upon his forehead and strode out of the Court House and past the speakers' stand, across whose front twin flags were being leisurely festooned. Back in his own office he picked up the story he had finished an hour before. With a sneer he tore it across and trampled it under foot. Then, jerking a chair forward to his typewriter, his brow dark, his jaw set, he began to thump fiercely upon the keys. CHAPTER III KATHERINE COMES HOME