"You said something just then about suffragists. Do you believe in suffrage for women, for your wife, for example?" He sat up and looked at her. He began to smile teasingly, as if she were a little girl and he a patient elder person with a beam in his eye. "So that's it, hey? You want to be a suffragist and with the suffragists stand! Of course I believe in it. I believe in letting every woman have what she wants. Now kiss me, Selah, like the dear little suffering suff you are!" "No, I must be sure you mean that. Men say things to women they do not believe, just to humour them, just to get----" "A kiss, yes! I'd vote for you for coroner, Selah, for one kiss to-night!" "Well, you won't get it, Mr. Sasnett, not until I am _sure_, absolutely sure, you are for us, not against us." "Us! One at a time, Selah, I say. You wouldn't have me be for all women, would you? A man loves one woman, but he can't stand 'em _en masse_. He'd romp like a four-year-old in a crowd of men, but a crowd of women, a commonwealth of women! Good Lord! it would be awful. Don't ask me to kiss them all, dear!" "You are making fun of us. I knew you were not for us," she said. "But I'm for _you_, heart and soul. When are we to be married? You promised to name the day." "It will not be this year, if ever," she answered coolly. "Not this year? It must be this year! I'm going to be representative from this county, and I want to take my bride to the Capitol with me." "You don't know whether you will be elected or not, yet, Mr. Sasnett. It depends upon conditions of which you do not now dream. When is the election?" "In November," he answered. "Before that time there will be five thousand more voters in this county than there are now!" "Where'll they come from?" "They are here now." "In your pocket, is that what you mean?" "They may be," she answered, smiling darkly. "You speak as if you were Mike Prim, Selah. It's scandalous!" * * * * * It was Saturday afternoon, two days since the funeral and two days since Mike Prim bent listening with such furious excitement at the keyhole of Judge Regis's office. Jordantown had become the stage upon which a mystery play was being enacted with all the farcical features of a comedy. Every man, especially, was doing exactly what he would have done and said if there had been footlights and an audience in front, only not one of them knew that this was so. Providence is the Great Dramatist, and secures perfectly natural effects by providing emergencies which call for action, and by keeping every man under the delusion that he chooses his own role. The suspense concerning the disposition of the Mosely Estate was only partially balanced by the confounded indignation of many citizens who came and went from Mike Prim's office. "Sent for you again, too?" exclaimed Coleman when he met Acres as he descended the stairs. "Yes, what's the matter?" asked Acres anxiously.