There was only one chance against him, that he could see, and that was the possibility of Peter proving treacherous. Well, he would try what friendship and patronage would do first; but if Peter turned restive, there were other means that could be employed in an emergency, and as he thought of them, there came a steely glitter in his eye that boded ill for Coleman should he prove himself a traitor. There was no reason as yet, however, to fear Coleman. He was rapidly building up a business that would be profitable enough to render him independent of any future assistance from Elwell. He was attending strictly to it, and making a record as a successful lawyer. Peter was not likely to kill the goose that laid _his_ golden eggs, by any means--he was too shrewd for that, and Elwell had not been called on for money but once when Peter first came. In fact, Elwell soon began to find in his friend a very valuable ally. He was popular himself and very ambitious. He had tact, and could meet and make friends of men who were socially his equals, but he was deficient in that unscrupulous audacity necessary for a successful local politician. This, Coleman supplied for him, and with his help the coveted nomination did not seem so impossible to obtain. So, all things considered, Elwell had no reason to regret his intimacy with Coleman, for all that intimacy had been forced upon him. The summer had passed away, leaving Elwell more engrossed in business than ever, and becoming daily more confident of his safety. Fanny worried him for a time over his promised change of residence. “Why will you persist in living here?” she cried fretfully. “You only do it to annoy me. You know how I detest the place, and besides that,” she continued in a deeply injured tone, “you know you promised before we were married.” “But, dear,” protested Elwell, “it is impossible at present. I could not leave here now without serious injury to the business. Be patient for a little longer and we will move.” But Fanny was hard to appease. “You promised,” she repeated pettishly, “and you should keep your word.” And she repeated this so often that his life became a burden. “Only wait,” he said one day, “and if things go right, you may have a chance to show your dresses to good advantage.” “What things?” inquired his wife, incredulously. “Is it always to depend on chance?” “Not altogether on chance this time. It is not yet settled; but I think I will get the nomination for Congress.” Fanny gasped. This was beyond her wildest dreams. “Oh, James,” she cried, “is it possible?” “Yes; I think it more than possible. It is altogether probable. But you must remember that it is not yet settled; so you must beware of disappointment. You had better not count on it until you are sure.”