"Leave him to me," exclaimed Milt, with an air of mystery; "there's no onehas more influence with Jack than me. No, he isn't with me just now,he's over with my brother Angus; but when he comes in to vote I'll bethere, and all I'll have to do is to lift my eyes like this" (he showedthem the way it would be done) "and he'll vote--right."

"How do you know he will come, though?" asked the Secretary, who hadlearned by much experience that many and devious are the bypaths whichlead away from the polls!

"Yer brother Angus will be sure to bring him in, won't he, Milt?" askedHarold Gray, the trusting one, who believed all men to be brothers.

There was a tense silence.

Milt took his pipe from his mouth. "My brother Angus," he began,dramatically, girding himself for the effort--for Milt was an orator ofTwelfth of July fame--"Angus Kennedy, my brother, bblack and reablack, andreablack and bblack, in the principles of Conservatism, as my poor very agedfather occasionally says, has gone over--has deserted our banners, has steepedhimself in the false teachings of the Grits. Angus, my brother," heconcluded, impressively, "is--not right!"