The black eyes snapped fiercely, and Eva Baldwin swept out of the room without giving her brother a chance to reply. He immediately summoned David home from Washington. The Congressman had often made peace between his brother and sister, but he found it impossible to patch up any kind of a truce this time. In vain he made promises. “You’ve made promises before, David Baldwin, and then you’ve let Zechariah cheat the workingmen out of their votes again, just the same as before. You’re standing before the country as the workingman’s friend, when really you are an impostor. Some day the country will find you out. The man who stands by and sees his workmen defrauded of the right to vote appropriations for their own homes, is just as big a villain as the man who does the dirty work himself.” These were Eva Baldwin’s plain words. Only one day was left of her week’s notice, and still no agreement. “You are not going to carry out your threat, are you Eva?” asked the Congressman. “It is not a threat. I am simply not going to be a partner in this iniquity any longer. If I sell out it will be to a man who thinks as I do about the workman’s rights. I’m ready to draw the papers.” “I think it is a bad move, both for you and for us,” was the brother’s reply; “but you have the advantage of us. Of course we cannot admit a stranger to ownership in the Baldwin Mills, so we make this proposition: Calling your interest two millions, we will give you the Liberty Mill, at one and one-half million dollars, and pay you the balance.” This offer was accepted and Eva Baldwin became owner of the Liberty Mill. Town-meeting day arrived. The movement for an evening session had apparently died. Back of the town-hall was the office of Ford Hulbert, auctioneer and real estate agent. On the morning of town-meeting Hulbert’s front entrance was closed, locked, and a curtain drawn. In the rear his office opened upon a long alley running back to an unfrequented street called Back Lane. Had anyone watched Back Lane that morning from daylight to ten o’clock, he would have seen an occasional lonely voter pass quietly along the street, up the long alley, and into the rear door of Hulbert’s office. They did not attract suspicion. One by one they passed in, like flies into a trap, but none of them came out. Ten o’clock came. In the town-hall less than twenty voters were present, mostly Baldwin sympathizers. Every word spoken was heard in Hulbert’s office. “The time has arrived for calling this meeting to order,” said the town clerk, who then read the warrant. “Prepare your ballots for a moderator,” commanded the Clerk. But now the rear door opened, and in filed forty voters from Hulbert’s office. After the choice of a moderator and a few minor town-officers, Mr. Hulbert arose and said:-- “I move that this meeting, except the balloting for town-officers, be adjourned to seven-thirty o’clock this evening.” “I second the motion,” said John Wycliff.