Kelly took the paper up and scanned its columns. He snorted. "Well, I do declare! I see that might' nigh all the doctors have packed up and are threatenin' to leave town. Well, there wa'n't enough doctorin' to keep twenty of 'em in cash nohow." "You ought to have heard Jap's speech when they were putting a plea for local option," said Bill. "My pap has carried a sore ear against Jap's reign ever since he was elected to fill out that unexpired term, and he stirred up a lot of bellyaches among the guzzlers. It was a sickening mess, because the whole town knows that my daddy can't stand even the smell of liquor. It wouldn't be so bad--so hypocritical, if he really liked it and was used to it. As I was telling you, he and the old booze gang had been burning the midnight dip to plan a crimp for Mayor Herron, when that local option idea struck him. Well, Jap got up and made a speech, calling their attention to the bonds we voted, and the sound financial condition back of those bonds; the granitoid pavement on Main street, the electric light plant that's going up, and the water works, and sewers that are under way--all managed since the town went dry. Then he nominated Tom Granger for mayor, and what do you reckon they did?" "Seein' as how he ain't mayor," said Kelly, with a twinkle, "I allow they done nothin'." "Why," said Bill, his brown eyes kindling, "they arose as one man and yelled, 'We want Jap Herron!' and that settled it." The farmer stood in the middle of the office, his arms gesticulating and his head bobbing with animation, as Jap hurried in. He gazed at the back of Kelly's familiar slicker incredulously. "What!" he hailed joyously, "our old friend of the sorghum barrel! Where have you been hibernating? Surely a cure for sore eyes," and Jap seized his shoulder and whirled him around so that he could grasp his hand. "Chipmunking in Barton," prompted Bill. "This sadly misguided farmer has been lost but now is found." "The Missus sent a package to Miss Flossy. You and Bill 'll eat it, I reckon," and he produced a parcel from his pocket. "She said if Ellis was here, he'd appreciate it. It's sausage that she made herself. And--and she sent a dollar for the paper. She wants the _Herald_." "And what about Kelly?" Jap asked, a wave of memory sweeping over him. "Just you write it down that Kelly Jones is a yaller pup," said Kelly morosely. "Never!" declared Jap heartily. "Misled, perhaps, but with a heart of gold." Kelly groped for his handkerchief. "I've got on the water wagon, Jap," he sniffled. "I reckon I kin get along without the stuff. Sary hid my jug, and I done 'thout it for a week, and I felt fine. I am goin' to make a stagger at it, if I do fall down." Jap pushed him into a chair. "Why, you old rascal," he cried, "you have backbone enough to do anything you will to do. Move into town and help us turn the wheels." Kelly wiped his nose on the tail of his slicker as he started for the door.