“Yes, I give up. I’ll withdraw from the race if you’ll keep my secret.” “I’ll make no conditions with you sir; I mean to brand you a felon throughout the length and breadth of this land!” “Not if you’ve an ounce of manhood in you,” said the Carpetbagger with quiet dignity. “You can’t do it when I tell you the truth. Fifteen years ago I was an honoured minister of the gospel in Australia. An enemy of mine in England published against me an infamous slander. I returned to ask reparation. He not only refused to give it but insulted me by a dastardly blow in a public assembly. In a moment of insane rage I returned his blow with one which resulted in his death. Four months later I found myself, a man of culture, refinement and the highest order of social talents, a convict in prison garb serving a sentence for manslaughter. I emerged more dead than alive--it was late in life, but I lifted up my head, sought a new world and began all over again. Once more I’ve shown my power as a leader of men. It was born in me--a God-given birthright. My hair is white now with the frost of the grave; I’m alone and friendless. Put yourself in my place. It’s my last chance. You are twenty years younger. I ask your pity, your sympathy, your friendship. Come, Judge, you too are a soldier of fortune in conquered territory and have your own secrets. Fight me fair.” “I’ll fight you with every weapon in my power, fair or foul. You’re in my way; get out of it,” sneered the Judge. “You contemptible cur!” cried Larkin. “I could strangle you!” “No doubt,” sneered Butler. “If you dared!” “Take care, you cowardly dog!” leaped the threat from the lips of the Carpetbagger, with a sudden flash of incontrollable rage; and again his massive figure towered over the Judge’s slouching form. Butler’s shifting eyes blinked in terror as he spluttered: “I’ll keep your secret on one condition!” “What is it?” snapped Larkin. “You’re a man of genius. Use your talents for me, and we’ll be friends.” “You have told no one the facts you have discovered?” “No. Suggs knows only of the investigation as to your citizenship.” “I accept your terms,” was the quiet answer. The Convention ended in unexpected harmony, electing a solid Butler delegation. Larkin lingered in town for several days and, to the surprise and uneasiness of the Judge, stopped with Uncle Isaac in the little cottage by his gate. CHAPTER VII--THE REIGN OF FOLLY WITHIN two weeks Steve Hoyle’s new Klan was organised and in absolute control of the Piedmont Congressional District.