Roderick was silent. The contemptuous tone nettled him. He would not discuss Lawyer Ed with Alexander Graham, no matter what the consequence. "Well, well," said the host, giving the fire a poke, and laughing good-naturedly. "Those fellows must do something to take up their time. But it's a pity to see them wasting it. For that thing won't go here in Algonquin, Rod. Take my word for it. And if it did, it would be a great pity, for such a law wouldn't be kept. Of course, if Ed Brians and Archie Blair and J. P. Thornton, and a few other fanatics like that, are bound to meddle with other people's consciences, I suppose we'll just have to let them do it. 'If it plazes her, it don't be hurtin' me,' as Mike Cassidy said when Judy hammered him with the broomstick. I hope they'll enjoy themselves." Roderick looked up quickly. "It is not a mere pastime with my father. It is a thing of great moment to him," he said. "Oh, well, of course," said Mr. Graham suavely. "I can understand that. Your father is a man who has devoted his life to drunks and outcasts, and he looks on temperance legislation as a refuge for them. I have no doubt he is quite sincere in the matter." "I should just say he is," said Roderick rather explosively. "That's quite true, Rod," said his patron, a little annoyed. "But your father, with many another good man, is making a great mistake when he believes people will be benefited by temperance legislation. Some folks seem to think that if you get local option in a town the millennium has come." He lit a cigar, and leaned back with an air of finality. "I tell you they're awfully mistaken. People want liquor and they'll get it as long as they want it, law or no law. And they're going to want it till the end of time. And if those folks insist upon forcing this by-law upon Algonquin, they will only succeed in giving the town a bad name. It's simply ruinous to a place from a business standpoint." Roderick had no answer to make. He was inclined to believe that Graham was right. He wanted to believe it, for the burden of this thing was annoying him. He knew that Lawyer Ed would have met the statements with fiery contradictions, and J. P. Thornton would have answered with clear, convincing facts. But he had given very little thought to the subject, and could not remember any of the arguments. And he had certainly heard, many, many times that the temperance measure had been a failure in other towns. He sat silent, his elbows on his knees, his hands locked together, looking into the glowing grate and wishing he didn't have to be bothered with it all. What had local option to do with his work, anyway? And then he realised that his host was talking again. In the midst of his quiet insinuating remarks, there was a sharp tap on the door, and Leslie swept into the room, very handsome in her soft, trailing white dress.