“Wouldn’t crow over it at all, so Varunas says,” declared Nabby. “And told Varunas to shut up when he crowed too long. Only signs of real interest he showed was the way he bet. Varunas says he never knew the cap’n to bet so many times or so much money. Kind of acted foolish about it, or as if he didn’t care what he did, so long’s ’twas somethin’. Yet--this is more of Varunas’s talk, of course--when them bets was paid him, and when he got the prizes, or purses or whatever you call ’em, he didn’t seem to care much about them either. Just shoved the money in his pocket without countin’ it. Well, his not carin’ about the money he gets that way don’t fret me. I don’t like to have him gamble, though. It’s a bad sign, no matter how rich a man is. Why, he might start drinkin’ next. Some of them politicians from out of town that come to see him last night had been takin’ somethin’ stronger than cambric tea, I tell you that, Reliance Clark. I smelt ’em when I opened the door, and ’twan’t Florida water I smelt neither. The Honorable Mooney was one. They tell me he’s goin’ to be elected Congressman to Washin’ton this fall sure.” He was, by the customary--at that period--huge Republican majority. Townsend took an active part in the campaign. Through the winter he continued active in local politics, although he did not attend the February town meeting. In April he left Harniss for Washington. The famous Townsend-Cook lawsuit was to have its hearing before the Supreme Court. The final verdict would be reached at last. The eager crowds at the post office snatched the newspapers from Millard Clark’s hands day after day. Harniss resented the small amount of space given by the Boston dailies to the town’s all-absorbing topic. Often there was not a word about the great trial. Only in the _Item_ was its progress reported as it should be, for there, what the editor lacked in authentic news he made up by quoting opinions and guesses throughout the county. And one day, near the end of April, a telegram came to Captain Benjamin Snow from his Boston bankers. It was brief, but stunning. “Just had word from Washington over the wire,” so read the telegram. “Cook has won the suit.” CHAPTER XXIV That telegram was handed to Captain Ben by the depot master who was also the telegraph operator. He watched the expression on the captain’s face during the reading of the dispatch. “Say,” he demanded, excitedly, “you don’t suppose that is so, do you, Cap’n?” Snow was staring at the yellow slip. He breathed hard. Then he shook his head. “Can’t be!” he declared. “No, no! It can’t be. How can it?” “But that man says he’s just got the word right from Washin’ton. Good Lord! Why--”