Rankin had taken a seat, and sat with his fat elbows on his fat knees. He had been keeping the count in his mind, as Randolph had been keeping it on a scrap of paper. He knew what he had, and he knew that when Sprague received the twenty-three votes Pusey would deliver to him, Sprague would be in the lead. Pusey had passed his old straw hat for the ballots, and it had ground Rankin to have to drop his own vote in it, held as it was by the man who now usurped the place in the Polk County delegation he had held for so many years. Pusey arose, and his thin voice piped: "Mr. Chairman, Polk County casts twenty-two votes for Garwood, and twenty-three for Barrett." Rankin looked up. Randolph, who had been preparing to order a volley of cheers for his candidate, stood stricken dumb. The vote came as a surprise to everybody, but more than all to the Logan County men. They were nonplussed. They had nominated Barrett with a little more, perhaps, than their usual sincerity, but they had merely gone to him temporarily in order to put themselves in a controlling position between the other two candidates. Pusey, who had been counted for Sprague by all, now held the balance of power. Hale looked up as if there had been some mistake. At last Rankin, smiling sardonically, and, as it were, to himself, arose and lumbered into the aisle near Randolph. As he steered past the Sprague leader, still dumbfounded, he said, with no attempt to conceal his words: "I told you, Hal, you couldn't depend on the little cuss." The Singed Cat smote his gavel down. "The convention--will be--in order. Let--the roll-call--proceed." "Tazewell?" "Thirty votes for Garwood." And then while Hale was footing his three little columns, conversation hummed again among the delegates. Pusey sat quietly tracing his mysterious figures on the floor with the point of his little stick. Rankin had paused by Hale's table where Cowley sat. Rankin smiled down on the correspondent. "Case o' buy, heh?" he said. "What?" Cowley shrugged his shoulders expressively, like a foreigner. "What?" Rankin repeated, his teeth showing in a broad significant grin. Hale had written the result on a slip of paper and passed it up to Bailey. The Singed Cat took it, and studied it. "On this ballot," he began presently, "there have--been cast--one hundred and sixty-five votes; necessary--to a choice, eighty-three. Of these Mr. Garwood--has--received--seventy, Mr. Sprague--forty-eight, and General Barrett forty-seven. No candidate--having received--the necessary number--of votes, there has been--no nomination--and you will, therefore--prepare your votes--for another ballot." "Mr. Chairman," Rankin said, with a promptness that recognized the change in the situation. "The gentleman--from Polk." "Mr. Chairman, I move that the convention do now adjourn until to-morrow morning at nine o'clock."