“I'll tell you, Carson. The meeting of these fellows to-night is a big proof of the--the wonderful esteem in which they hold you. No other man could have got them together at such a time; but, all the same, they are not going to allow you to--you see, Carson, they have had time to talk it over in there, and have unanimously agreed that to make any opposition by force would be worse than folly. Pole Baker brought some reliable news, reliable and terrible. Why, he told us just now--however, wait. He will tell you about it.” Giving a rap on the door that was recognized within, they were admitted by Blackburn, who stood back in the shadow and quickly closed the shutter and locked it again. In the uncertain light of a lamp with a murky chimney, on the platform in the rear, seated on boxes, nail kegs, chairs, table, and desk, Dwight beheld a motley gathering of his friends and supporters. Kirk Fitzpatrick, the brawny, black-handed tinner, who had a jest for every moment, was there; Wilson, the shoemaker; Tobe Hassler, the German baker; Tom Wayland, the good-hearted drug clerk, whose hair was as red as blood; Bob Smith, Wade Tingle, and, nestled close to the lamp, and looking like a hunchback, crouched Garner, so deep in a newspaper that he was utterly deaf and blind to sounds and things around him. Besides those mentioned, there were several other ardent friends of the candidate. “Well, here you are at last,” Garner cried, throwing down his paper. “If I hadn't had something to read I'd have been asleep. I don't know any more than a rabbit what you intend to propose, but whatever it is, we are late enough about it.” Hurriedly Carson explained the cause of his delay and took the chair which the tinner, with the air of a proud inferior, was pushing towards him. As he sat down and the lamplight fell athwart his careworn face, the group was overwhelmed with sympathy and a strange, far-reaching respect they could hardly understand. To-night they were, more than usual, under the spell of that inner force which had bound them one and all to him and which, they felt, nothing but dishonor could break. And yet there they sat so grimly banded together against him that he felt it in their very attitudes.