The second precinct was the most important in Hardiston. Its voters numbered half as many again as its next rival. And so the candidates gave it more than its share of attention that day. Chase came early and often. Each time he disseminated cigars and amiability. This was his day of glory; and he ate it with a relish, visibly smacking his lips. Caretall and Gergue came together about eight o’clock in the morning. Amos had very little to say. He glanced at the voting lists, nodded to Ed Howe, called a greeting to Jim Thomas and departed. Peter Gergue remained for a time, scratching the back of his head and talking with those who came to vote. Amos came back at noon, and as it happened, he met V. R. Kite at the voting place. Kite voted in this precinct, and he had just deposited his ballot when Amos arrived. The two men greeted each other amiably. Amos said: “Morning, Mr. Kite.” “Good morning, Congressman.” “Just voting?” “Yes. Overslept.” Amos winked. “I trust you voted right, V. R.” Kite nodded briskly. “Right as rain, Congressman. You too?” “Sure.” Jim Thomas listened with frank interest. Now he found an opening for his joke. “You’d better drop in a few votes here, Congressman. Chase is running strong.” Amos looked at him with interest. “You don’t say, Jim?” “Yes, I do.” “Well--how do you know, Jim?” Thomas became faintly confused. “Oh, I can tell.” “You ain’t been looking at the ballots, have you, Jim?” Jim blustered. “Look-a-here--who you accusing?” “You ain’t? Then you must be one of these mediums that can read a folded paper.” “Oh, sugar! You go....” Amos grinned. “Matter of fact, Jim, I wish I knowed you was right. I’m frank to say, Jim, that I got a bet on a horse named Chase to win.” Jim gasped, and Amos nodded soberly. “Yes, sir, Jim. You just hear me.” Jim took a plug of tobacco from his pocket and tore at it with his teeth and stuffed it away again. The operation restored his composure. “Well, Congressman, you’d ought not to bet--and you a lawmaker.” “It ain’t rightly a bet, Jim,” said Amos. “It’s a sure thing.” He turned toward the door. “Good aft’noon, Jim.” The voting, beginning slow, had picked up during the noon hour. A steady stream of men came in throughout that period and when this stream subsided, four-fifths of the registered voters had cast their ballots. Ed Howe suggested: “Might as well close up shop at four, hadn’t we, Jim?” “Sure,” said Jim. “They ain’t no real contest to-day anyway.” “I reckon that’s right,” Ed agreed. This was a quarter before two o’clock in the afternoon. At two o’clock, Caretall and Chase came face to face at the door of the voting room. They came in arm in arm; and Chase asked graciously: “Well, boys, how are things going?” Jim Thomas reported briskly, “Fine, Mr. Chase. Most of the votes in. Ed and me’s figuring to close at four.” Chase nodded. “I guess that’s safe. Don’t you think so, Amos?”