“How dare you study the handwriting on my letters, sir!” “What’s the use of being postmaster? There ain’t no big money in it. I just take pride in the office,” said Sam genially. “That’s a new one, ain’t it?” Gaston looked at the letter incredulously. It was a new one,--a big square envelope with a seal on the back of it, addressed to him in the most delicate feminine hand, and postmarked “Independence.” “Great Scott, this is interesting,” he cried, breaking the seal. When the postmaster saw he was going to open it right there in the office, he stepped around in front and looking over his shoulder said, “What is it, Charlie?” “It’s an invitation from the Ladies’ Memorial Association to deliver the Memorial day oration at Independence the 10th of May. That’s great. No money in it, but scores of pretty girls, big speech, congratulations, the lion of the hour! Don’t you wish you were really a man of brains, Sam?” “No, no, I’m married. It would be a waste now.” “Sam, I ’ll be there. Got the biggest speech of my life all cocked and primed, full of pathos and eloquence,--been working on it at odd times for four years. They ’ll think it a sudden inspiration.” “What’s the name of it?” “The Message of the New South to the Glorious Old.” “That sounds bully, that ought to fetch ’em.” “It will, my boy, and when Dave Haley gets this postoffice away from you in the dark days coming, I ’ll publish that speech in a pamphlet, and you can peddle it at a quarter and make a good living for your children.” “Don’t talk like that, Gaston, that isn’t funny at all. You don’t think the Radicals have got any chance?” “Chance! Between you and me they ’ll win.” Sam went back to the desk without another word, a great fear suddenly darkening the future. McLeod had gotten off the same joke on him the day before. It sounded ominous coming from both sides like that. He took up his party paper, “The Old Timer’s Gazette” and read over again the sure prophecies of victory and felt better. Gaston accepted the invitation with feverish haste. He had it all ready to put in the office for the return mail to Independence. But he was ashamed to appear in such a hurry, so he held the letter over until the next day. He proudly showed the invitation to Mrs. Durham. “What do you think of that, Auntie?” “Immense. You will meet Miss Sallie sure. That letter is in her handwriting. She’s the Secretary of the Association and signed the Committee’s names.” “You don’t say that’s the great and only one’s handwriting!” “Couldn’t be mistaken. It has a delicate distinction about it. I’d know it anywhere.” “It is beautiful,” acknowledged Gaston looking thoughtfully at the letter. “I wish you had a new suit, Charlie.” “I wouldn’t mind it myself, if I had the money. But clothes don’t interest me much, just so I’m fairly decent.” “I ’ll loan you the money, if you will promise me to devote yourself faithfully to Sallie.”