“What kind of a town is this, anyway,” said he to the barkeeper, in a tone of banter, “where you don’t keep any of the popular brands of whiskey and where I don’t see a campaign banner, though the election is coming!” “Election!” repeated the barkeeper blankly. “Election is what I said,” repeated Kearns with emphasis. “Which way does this town go--Democratic or Republican?” The bartender stared first at the speaker and then turned an uneasy eye toward the two men at the table. “We are loyal here--loyal!” he stammered at last. “Loyal!” cried Kearns, flushing, “loyal to what? The existing administration, I suppose you mean?” “Yes; to the--to the--existing administration,” stammered the barkeeper confusedly. At this point Dean interposed, with some show of warmth. “Then,” he cried, “I feel sorry for your intelligence, for there was never a bigger nest of corruptionists and oppressors of the people than the existing administration!” As these words were uttered there was a murmur and a strange commotion in the place. The man with the squint left the table and quickly passed out. His companion rose and placed himself at the door, as if to check any attempt at exit. The bartender turned pale as one of his clouts behind the bar. “Hush,” he whispered, apprehensively; “hush! You will get yourselves into trouble and the house will lose its license.” “A pretty state of things,” retorted the Professor, “when a free American citizen cannot speak his mind openly. I say it, and I don’t care who hears me, that I am opposed to Corruption, Imperialism and Trusts!” “GO!” cried the barkeeper, with the air of a man wrought by his fears to a pitch of rage. “Out you go, I say! You can’t talk that way in here!” “All right!” interposed Kearns, apparently much amused at the warmth displayed; “this gentleman has told you his views and we’ll now take our cigars, and go.” “No! no!” cried the bartender, hastily removing the cigar boxes; “go now--quick!” But at this instant there was a sound of feet at the entrance and the little man with the squint reappeared, accompanied by a gorgeous creature in uniform and cocked hat. The two stepped up to Kearns and the Professor, while the dark man still maintained his position at the door. “Come!” said the man in uniform curtly. “Why--what do you mean?” exclaimed Kearns. “You are under arrest--both!” said the man with the squint. “Arrest!” exclaimed the Professor excitedly. “Arrest!” cried Kearns angrily. “Why, what the devil do you mean, sir? I am Thomas Kearns, of New York, and I’ll make it precious hot for you if you attempt any pleasantries with me!” The little man regarded the speaker with an evil and contemptuous leer. “I don’t care who you be,” he said. “I arrest you both.” “For what?” interposed the Professor. “Sedition,” said the little man. “Sedition!” cried Kearns, with a guffaw; “sedition, eh? And by what authority, pray?”