“Before that vote is taken I want to say one word as a man to men,” shouted a delegate. “It's plain to be seen that that man standing there is a gentleman. We are sent here to attend a meeting for the good of our party. If, as delegates, we refuse to listen to a gentleman because we're in too much of a hurry, we'd ought to be ashamed of ourselves. If, on the other hand, we're _afraid_ to listen to him, whatever it is he wants to say, then God save this party of ours!” That was a sentiment which promptly struck fire in that assemblage. There before their eyes stood the subject of that challenge, stalwart, modest, appealing silently--the sort of appeal which won. The galleries broke into applause first. Then the delegates took up the demonstration in behalf of fair play. They beat their hands and pounded their feet. The applause from the galleries had more or less of rebuke in it, because it began while the challenger's voice still echoed in the great hall. The chairman's gavel thumped ferociously. Colonel Dodd cursed under his breath. He had been on the trail of that convention, its movements, its progress, as a hound dog would follow the trail of a fox. He had seen it safely headed for the corner where it would be run to earth. He detected sudden peril in this threat of a detour. “Good Jericho!” gasped a committeeman near him. “The chairman ain't letting this convention get away from him, is he?” It was natural alarm in the case of a man who feared to allow any expression in a convention except such as had been arranged for previously and had been passed upon by those in power. “This isn't the kind of convention that will get away!” hissed the colonel in reply, bolstering his own convictions that all was safely harnessed. “But I don't want any fooling.” He caught the eye of his nephew and summoned him with an impatient jerk of the head. Richard Dodd hastened across the platform and bent his ear close to his uncle's mouth--the colonel pulling him down. “If your man can stop that fool now--quick--for five hundred dollars, I'll pay.” Young Dodd gulped. He needed five thousand dollars! “He won't consider less than I told you.” “Well, let the idiot talk to us--he can't do any harm.” The colonel pushed his nephew away. In spite of that applause he still half expected that the convention would close the nominations. What else was there to do? “The vote is upon the motion to close the nominations for governor,” stated the chairman. “Those in favor will say 'Aye!'” Every delegate in that hall was looking at Farr. They were staring at him with curiosity and interest. But even curiosity does not always prompt politicians to open a convention to a person who may prove to be a bomb that will upset plans and precedent. Then Farr gave them that wonderful smile! The “Ayes” were scattered and sporadic! Men did not relish shutting off a chap who stood there and smiled upon them in that fashion.