While the picture was flashing on the screen, Wint watched the heads of the two. He could not help it; and when their heads, silhouetted against the light, leaned toward one another for a whispered word, he felt something boil within him. His reaction was to bend more attentively toward Agnes; and the gay little girl beside him responded to this new mood so that when the film was done and they filed out, she and Wint were the most obviously happy young couple in the house. They had ice cream together at the bakery next door, and walked home in comfortable comradeship, the girl’s hand on his arm. That night, Wint’s sleep was disturbed and wretched; and next day when he met Routt at the Post Office, he stiffened with resentment. But Routt caught his arm and drew him to one side. “See here, Wint,” he said, “Joan tells me you and she have quarreled.” Wint nodded. “You ought to go to her and make it up, Wint. I don’t know what it’s about, but you ought to make it up with her.” “I’ve nothing to make up.” “She’s a dandy girl.” “I’ve nothing against her.” “It makes her sore to have you chase around with Agnes.” “There’s no reason why it should,” Wint said stiffly. “She has no hold on me.” Routt hesitated. “Well, Wint,” he said uneasily, “if that’s so, you’ve no claim on her.” “Of course not.” “Then you don’t mind my--showing her some attention? I don’t want anything to come between us, Wint.” Wint laughed. “Go as far as you like, Jack,” he said cheerfully. “You can’t hurt my feelings.” Routt gripped his hand. “That’s great, Wint.” He looked about them, and then added slowly: “I think she likes me, Wint. I’m--in to win.” “Go as far as you like,” Wint repeated. They separated, and Wint went back to the house and remained in his room half the morning. He was tormented by angry pride and irresolution; he could not decide what to do. A recklessness took possession of him; he repented of his determination to stick, and fight out this fight to the end. He sought for some way out.... Muldoon had become a part of the Caretall household with Wint; and he looked out of the window now and saw the dog starting toward town at Agnes’ heels. He made a move to whistle Muldoon back, then thought better of it. Joan might see Muldoon with Agnes; he hoped she would, hoped it would make her miserable.... He wanted Joan to be unhappy. As the time for his inauguration as Mayor approached, Wint became more and more uneasy. He felt as though he were about to submit to bonds that would pin him fast; he felt as though he were on the steps of a prison. A fierce revolt began to brood in him and grow and boil. He broke out once, in a talk with Caretall. He would throw the whole thing over, leave town, go away, never to return.