She went back to her hated housekeeping, and Henry went back to his hated theater, and for another week they labored and pinched and saved, each in a specific purpose, and each in desperate support of the other's loyalty and sacrifice. He brought her, then, the morning edition of the _Herald_, and pointed out a telegraphic item on the first page. "They must think it's a sure thing," he said, "and the devil of it is that I guess they're pretty nearly right." Anna glanced at the headlines, and gasped. "Mix elected second vice-president of the national organization--and pledges twenty-five thousand dollars to the national campaign fund! Oh!... I _wish_ I could say what I think!" "If a hearty oath would relieve you, don't mind me," said Henry. His chin was squarer than usual, and his eyes were harder. "You can see what happened, can't you? Aunt Mirabelle railroaded him through--and the pompous old fool looks the part--and she let him promise money she expects to get in August. And I'll bet it hurt him just as much to promise it as it does me to have him!" She threw the paper to the floor. "Henry, can't we do _some_thing? We're only a few hundred dollars short! Can't we make up just _that_ little bit?" "It's a thousand, now," he said. "A thousand, and we're falling further behind every time the clock ticks." He retrieved the _Herald_, and abstractedly smoothed out the pages. "That was a great spread-eagle speech of Mix's wasn't it? Talking about his model ordinance, and what he's going to do next year!... Nothing I'd love better than to give that fellow a dose of his own tonic. But that's the deuce of it--I can't think how to put it over.... Even if I'm licked, I wouldn't feel so badly if I just had the personal satisfaction of making him look like a sick cat. Just once." "Yes," she said, sorrowfully. "Dad's prophecy didn't seem to work out, did it?" "What prophecy was that?" "Don't you remember? He said if Mr. Mix only had enough rope--" "Oh, yes. Only Mix declined the invitation. He's handled himself pretty well; you've got to grant that. There's a lot of people around here that honestly think he's a first-class citizen. Sometimes I'm darned if I don't think they _will_ elect him something. And then God save the Commonwealth! But if they ever realized how far that League'll go if it ever gets under way, and what a bunch of hocum Mix's part of it is--" He stopped abruptly, and froze in his place; and then, to Anna's amazement, he turned to her with a whoop which could have carried half-way to the Orpheum. "Henry! What on earth _is_ it?" Henry snatched up his hat and made for the door. "More rope!" he said, exultantly, over his shoulder. "_Lots_ more rope--I'll tell you tonight!" * * * * *