“Well,” he said, “well, I--I don't know's that's--That is, right's right and wrong's wrong. I've seen bullfights down yonder--” jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the vague direction of Buenos Ayres, “and every time my sympathy's been with the bull. Not that I loved the critter for his own sake, but because all Greaserdom was out to down him. From what I hear, this Phoebe Dawes--for all her pesky down-East stubbornness--is teachin' pretty well, and anyhow she's one little woman against Tad Simpson and Heman Atkins and--and Tad's special brand of Providence. She deserves a fair shake and, by the big dipper, she's goin' to have it! Look here, you two! how would I look on the school committee?” “You?” repeated the pair in concert. “YOU?” “Yes, me. I ain't a Solomon for wisdom, but I cal'late I'd be as near the top of the barrel as Darius Ellis, and only one or two layers under Eben Salters or 'Lonzo Snow. I'm a candidate--see?” “But--but, Whit,” gasped the town clerk, “are you popular enough? Could you get elected?” “I don't know, but I can find out. You and Bailey 'll vote for me, won't you?” “Course we will, but--” “All right. There's two votes. A hundred and odd more'll put me in. Here goes for politics and popularity. I may be president yet; you can't tell. And say! this town meetin' won't be DULL, whichever way the cat jumps.” This last was a safe prophecy. All dullness disappeared from Bayport the moment it became known that Captain Cyrus Whittaker was “out” for the school committee. The captain began his electioneering at once. That very afternoon he called upon three people--Eben Salters, Josiah Dimick, and Lemuel Myrick. Captain Salters was chairman of selectmen as well as chairman of the committee. He was a hard-headed old salt, who had made money in the Australian packet service. He had common sense, independence, and considerable influence in the town. Next to Congressman Atkins he was, perhaps, our leading citizen. And, more than all, he was not afraid, when he thought it necessary, to oppose the great Heman. “Well,” he said reflectively, after listening to Captain Cy's brief statement of his candidacy, “I cal'late I'll stand in with you, Cy. I ain't got anything against 'Lonzo, but--but--well, consarn it! maybe that's the trouble. Maybe he's so darned good it makes me jealous. Anyhow, I'll do what I can for you.” Joe Dimick laughed aloud. He was an iconoclast, seldom went to church, and was entirely lacking in reverence. Also he really liked the captain. “Ho, ho!” he crowed. “Whit, do you realize that you're underminin' this town's constitution? Oh, sartin, I'm with you, if it's only to see the fur fly! I do love a scrap.” With Lem Myrick Captain Cy's policy was different. He gently reminded that gentleman of the painting contract, intimated that other favors might be forthcoming, and then, as a clincher, spoke of Tad Simpson's comment when Mr. Myrick voted for Phoebe Dawes.