"Now, Luke," he invited, blandly, "let's go to a legislative district caucus. I haven't bothered to attend one for a good many years, but this one on the docket now gives signs of being interesting." They walked down the dusty road toward the village. The State chairman was silent, with the air of a man pondering matters he does not understand; but the Hon. Thelismer Thornton beamed upon all he met. Having a certainty to deal with, and a tangible enemy in sight, he seemed at ease. He felt like one who has recovered from dizzying blows and is on trail of the enemy who dealt them. He was himself again. A few of those he met he greeted with especial cordiality. To some he gave cigars, not with the air of one seeking favor, not with the cheap generosity of the professional politician, but with the manner of one taking paternal interest in the conduct of a good child. It was an act that seemed to go with his handclasp and smile. He caught the State chairman looking at him rather doubtfully on one of these occasions. "The folks understand this thing up here," he said. "When those chaps were young ones I used to give them a stick of candy. Now that they are grown up I hand 'em a cigar--got into the habit and can't stop. Or else I send 'em around to Aunt Charette's and have it put on my account. Wicked performance, I suppose, and so the old ladies tell me. But I was born in the old rum-and-molasses times, Luke, when the liquor thing sort of run itself, and didn't give so many cheap snoozers a job on one side or the other." "What's this Aunt Charette's you're talking about?" asked the chairman. "An institution!" The Duke enjoyed the puzzled stare the little man rolled up at him. "I reckon you think you've solved the liquor question in this prohibition State at that hotel bar of yours, Luke. I've solved it in my own way up here. Aunt Charette's is an institution that I've founded. Come and look at it." He led the way off the main street. There was a cottage at the end of a lane, tree-embowered, neat with fresh white paint and blinds of vivid green. An old man sat in an arm-chair under one of the trees. He wore gold earrings and an old-style coat with brass buttons. "Uncle Charette," explained the Duke, as they passed him. "Simply a lawn ornament." He led the way into the house without knocking. "And this is Aunt Charette," he volunteered. In the centre of the spotless fore-room a ponderous woman rocked in her huge chair and knitted placidly. She was a picture of peaceful prosperity in black silk gown and gold-bowed spectacles. "And here's the nature of Aunt Charette's institution." He pointed to an open cupboard in which there were many bottles. "Oh! your local liquor agency," hazarded the chairman.