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"Preside at town meetin', don't you?"
"My duty," said Kent.
"Calc'late to _do_ your duty?"
"Always done so."
"Comin' to see you do it," said Scattergood. He paused. "Next mornin'
we'll fix up the note. G'-by, Kent." During the fourteen days that followed Coldriver was happy; between politics and the forbidden horse race, it had such food for conversation that even cribbage under the barber shop languished, and one had to walk into the road to pa.s.s the crowd at the post office of evenings. As to the horse race, it resembled a boil. Daily it grew more painful. Like a boil, such a horse race as this must burst some day, and it was reaching the acute stage. But Town-marshal Pease was vigilant and spoke sternly of the majesty of the law.
As to the election, it grew even more dubious. Scattergood privately took stock of the situation. Marvin Towne and the Prohibitionists might count now on a vote or two more than fifty. Postmaster Pratt appeared certain of better than a hundred, and so did the opposing party. One or the other of them was certain to win as matters lay, and Marvin's case seemed hopeless. Marvin conceived it so and was for withdrawing, but Scattergood saw to it that he did not withdraw.
"Keep your votes together," he said. "Stiffen 'em." It was his first direct order. "Fetch 'em to the meetin' and be sure of every one."
On town-meeting day Coldriver filled with rigs from the surrounding township. Every rail and post was utilized for hitching, and Town-marshal Pease, his star displayed, patrolled the town to avert disorder. He patrolled until the meeting went into session, and then he took his chair just under the platform, and, as was his duty, guarded the sacredness of the ballot.
Scattergood was present, sitting in a corner under the overhang of the balcony, watching, but discouraging conversation. If one had studied his face during the early proceedings he would have read nothing except a genial interest, which was the thing Coldriver expected to see on Scattergood's face. Town questions were decided, matters of sidewalks, of road building, of schools, and every instance Marvin Towne's fifty-two voted as a unit, swinging from one side to the other as their peculiar interest dictated. On all minor questions it was Marvin Towne's Prohibitionists who decided, because they carried the volume of votes necessary to control. But when it came to major affairs, such as the election of officers, there would be a different story. Then they could join with neither party, but must stand alone as a unit, far outvoted.
So the regulars disregarded them, or if they gave them any attention it was jocular. Even Marvin viewed the day as lost, but Scattergood held him to the mark with a word pa.s.sed now and then. It came three o'clock of the afternoon before nominations for the high office of legislator were the order of proceeding. Jim Allen and Pazzy c.o.x were placed before the meeting as candidates amid the stimulated applause of their adherents. Marvin Towne's name was received with laughter and such jeers as the New England breed of farmer and townsman has rendered his own, and at which he is a genius surpa.s.sed by none.
Chairman Pilkinton arose, as befitted the moment.
"Feller townsmen, we will now proceed to cast our ballots for the office of representative in the legislature. The polls is open, and overlooked by Town-marshal Pease. The ballotin' will begin."
And then....
At that instant there was an uproar on the stairs. Pliny Pickett burst into the room, his hat missing, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
"It's a-comin' off. They've stole a march. Hoss race!... Hoss race!...
Ren Green and Wade Lumley's got their bosses up to Deacon Pettybone's and they're goin' to race to the dam. Everybody out. Hoss race!... Hoss race!..." He turned and ran frantically down the stairs, and on his heels followed the voters of Coldriver. But one or two remained; men too rheumatic to chance rapid movement, or those whose positions compelled them to consider as non-existent such a matter as a race between quadrupeds.
But no sooner had the hall cleared than men began to return, in couples, in squads, and to take their seats. Scattergood was standing up now, counting. Fifty-two he counted, and remained standing.
"Polls is open, Mr. Chairman," says he.
"They was declared so, but--er--the voters has gone. I hain't clear how to perceed."
"Do your duty, chairman, like you said. Town meetings don't calculate to take account of hoss races, do they? Eh?... None of your affair, is it?"
Pilkinton looked at Scattergood, who smiled genially and said: "Duty's duty, Pilkinton. If you was to fail in your duty as a public officer, folks might git to think you wasn't the sort of citizen that could be trusted. Might even affect sich things as credit and promissory notes."
Mr. Pilkinton no longer hesitated.
"The polls is open," he said.
The fifty-two, ballots ready in their hands, started for the box, but Town-marshal Pease, awakened from his astonishment, lifted his voice.
"I got to stop that hoss race. Stop the votin' till I git back. That hoss race has got to be stopped."
"Seems to me like votes was more important than hoss races," said Scattergood.
"The town marshal will stay right where he is, and guard the ballot box," said the chairman.
The voters moved to the front, and as they deposited their ballots, sounds from without, indicating excitement and delight, were carried through the windows to their ears. The fifty-two voted and returned to their seats.
"If everybody present and desirin' to vote has done so," said Scattergood, "I move you them polls be closed."
Mr. Pilkinton put the motion, and it was carried with enthusiasm.
"Tellers," suggested Scattergood.
As was the custom, the votes were counted immediately. The result stood, Marvin Towne: fifty-three votes; Jim Allen, two votes; Pazzy c.o.x, four votes.
"I declare Marvin Towne elected our representative to the legislature,"
said Chairman Pilkinton, weakly, and sat down, mopping his brow.
"That bein' the final business of this meetin'," said Scattergood, "I move we adjourn."
The story swept the state. Twenty-four hours later Lafe Siggins visited Coldriver and was driven to Scattergood Baines's hardware store.
Scattergood sat on the piazza, and as soon as the visitor was identified the male inhabitants of the village began to gather.
"Kin we talk in private?" said Mr. Siggins.
"Hain't got no need for privacy. Folks is welcome to listen to all I got to say."
Mr. Siggins frowned, but, being a politician and partially estimating the quality of his man, he did not protest.
"You beat us clever," said he.
"Calculated to," said Scattergood.
"In politics for good?"
"Calculate to be."
"What you aim to do?"
"Kind of look after the politics in Coldriver."
"Be you fur me or ag'in' me?"
"I'm fur you till my mind changes."
"How about this here Prohibition party?"
"Don't figger it's necessary after this."
"Guess we kin agree," said Siggins. "You can figger the party machinery's behind you. So fur's _we're_ concerned, _you're_ Coldriver."